What’s in the bag? It doesn’t really matter

Inside “The Bag Man’s” titular bag and requisite MacGuffin is a human head that once belonged to John Cusack’s fiancée. Robert De Niro killed her well before the events in the film occur. His reasons for murdering this poor woman, stuffing her head in a bag and forcing Cusack to protect said bag from all sorts of potential thieves are encapsulated by this one simple phrase: because why not.

Because why not is an exceptional way of summarizing the logic for the events that take place in “The Bag Man.” Why doesn't Cusack look in the bag himself despite how many people try to kill him for it? Because why not. Why does De Niro have a hotel rigged with explosions? Because why not. Why would the characters drive around a metropolitan area in a vehicle linked to multiple homicides and a building explosion? Because why not. Why does De Niro hire Rebecca Da Costa to mess with Cusack's head? Because why not. Why does the miscast Rebecca Da Costa have second billing in this banal slice of disaster? Because why not.

Many, many other questions popped as time slogged by, but I would have known what I was getting into had I checked the film's IMDB page prior to sitting through almost two hours of nonsense. A quick glimpse at writer/director David Grovic's entry reveals a schmuck with no writing or directing credits and very small acting roles in two films, although one of them did have Rebecca Da Costa as the female lead. Grovic's writing partner, Paul Conway, has a few writing and acting roles under his belt, including second billing on a film he wrote, “L.A., I Hate You,” that also happens to feature Rebecca Da Costa (so there’s one question answered).

Continuing down the rabbit hole, “The Bag Man's” premise comes from a different screenplay by James Russo, best known for his role as Mikey Tandino in “Beverley Hills Cop.” Russo does have a slew of acting roles under his belt and one other writing credit, although the fact that “The Bag Man” is based on Russo's “original screenplay” indicates a lack of involvement on his end. It's also a rather disconcerting tidbit because who the hell adapts a film from a different screenplay instead of rewriting the one that already exists?

Again, all of this was available before I sat down to watch this thing, and yet I sided with my naïveté and partook in 148 minutes of faux-intellectual crap. “The Bag Man” is the kind of film that tries really, really hard to craft a Lynchian atmosphere without understanding what that entails beyond the casting of a slightly creepy little person. It's the kind of film whose clever repartee between characters includes the line “you don't know Jack” uttered by a character whose name is, yes, Jack. It's the kind of film that just chucks ideas, ones that don’t qualify as half-baked, against the proverbial wall while hoping and praying something is interpreted as smart and befitting old school film noir. Alas, the blind hog didn't stumble upon a nut this time.

“The Bag Man” is a leaden, stiff, undereducated, boring, dry, insulting, painful, ponderous, pretentious, lazy, miserable movie. It's a really bad movie, and not even in a manner that at least offers a little entertainment as seen in films like “Showgirls,” “The Room,” “Troll 2” and “The Wicker Man” (the Nicolas Cage version). No, “The Bag Man” is an abjectly awful film with no redeeming qualities despite the presence of a stable of actors – Cusack, De Niro and Crispin Glover – who are overqualified for their roles.

No one, however, can escape the vortex of suck that is “The Bag Man.” This thing strips away Cusack's charisma and energy, dulls Crispin's inherent and dangerous oddity, and brings out the worst in De Niro. His performance is a potent blend of overacting and insouciance – otherwise known as pay-me mode – he’ll pull out in films “Rock & Bullwinkle” and the “Focker” films.

All of that is an explanation for why I opted against inserting a token spoiler alert before revealing the film’s big twist. The answer, quite simply, is that I don't feel as if I ruined anyone's viewing experience by revealing the twist, as it's difficult to spoil something that lacks value. Which reminds me, “The Bag Man” ends with Cusack and Da Costa riding off into the sunset $5 million, because, again, why not.

Rating: One-half out of Five Stars 

Ask Away
Target audience: I wish I had an answer.

Take the whole family?: That “R” rating is well earned given how many people Lloyd Dobler kills in less than two hours.

Theater or Netflix?: Don't touch it with a 10-foot pole; read a good book or go for a walk instead.

Anything else you want to insult?: A shout out goes to whoever approved the movie poster. I hate to judge a film by its cover, but a poorly designed poster is a good indicator for a wretched film.

Watch this instead?: Just go rent/stream “Grosse Pointe Blank”: it's charming, clever and features John Cusack shooting many people, albeit in a more logical manner.

Rating: R

Run time: 108 minutes (One hour and 48 minutes)

Genre: Suspense