DATELINE: Foxx Fones in Performance
Noise, car chases, unremitting violence, do not make this film distinctive from a plethora of faint-hearted copies. It too wants to be a franchise “cops in Las Vegas” series with Jamie Foxx. It’s optimistically called Sleepless. Not to be confused with Sleeper.
Foxx has worked hard to achieve a status as a solid actor of intelligent films, but like so many other stars, he must pay the rent. This film is a lease on his new, multi-million-dollar penthouse condo in Vegas.
How bad is this movie? Well, Foxx is stabbed in the gut early on in the film, bleeds profusely, but can still fight, run, and lift heavy bags of drugs with nary a squint in his demeanor.
When his clothes are blood-soaked, he finds a hotel casino laundry where he can immediately locate a tailored suit with white shirt (all the better for blood, you know) with henchmen hot on his trail.
His entire family becomes involved with the mob family. There is no joke hidden here—as the mob kidnaps his son, thinking Foxx is a bad guy who stole their drugs, when he is of course merely undercover, trying to find the mule, or jackass, in the police who is the real culprit.
Oh, is that a spoiler? Well, try this: he steals a show car in the casino and drives around inside, knocking over civilians and bad guys alike. You’d almost think this was a terrorist attack, but no—it is merely criminal enterprise at work. Viva Las Vegas.
The movie would be over in 45 minutes if not for a complication in which an overeager Internal Affairs officer steals the drugs, creating another endless chase.
When the big shoot-out occurs in the underground parking garage of the casino, Foxx’s wife happens to drive through with her gun in the glove box. (She’s a nurse, what did you expect? A first aid kit?)
If you have confused this movie mess with The Big Sleep, you don’t have narcolepsy, a habit of liking narcs, or need a sleep aid. Yes, this is Sleepless. Almost as funny as Sleepless in Seattle.