The performances delivered by Blanchett, Thornton, and Willis are not remarkable individually or in themselves. Willis gives a typical turn (stoic but wry), Blanchett fails to excite, and Thornton does an obsessive-compulsive routine that, somewhere between Dustin Hoffman and Jack Nicholson, has lost its flair. But together, the three actors truly light up the screen. With a little help from the Harley Peyton (Keys to Tulsa and Heaven's Prisoners) script, and perhaps more than a little free reign from director Levinson, they never fail to deliver scenes that keep the movie light, enjoyable, and in their candor, become memorable.

      Audiences probably won't remember too much of the movie itself, because the plot, as it transpires on-screen, is disjointed and uninspired (sort of like writer Peyton's other work). Willis and Thornton play the Sleepover Bandits, whose status as America's most successful bank-robbing duo can be attributed to their unusual if ingenious plan: Having selected a bank, they'll kidnap the manager the night before, take him in the next morning before the bank opens, and clean out the vault without having to worry about customers, guards, or alarms. It's a seemingly foolproof plan that goes awry when they decide to take on a "long-term hostage" (Blanchett) and end up getting torn apart because of her.

      The film progresses in short bursts -- the bank robberies, the getaways, and the mandatory two weeks between robberies that our heroes insist upon. Luckily, there's always something to keep the audience entertained, and it's director Levinson (Wag the Dog)'s tact behind the camera that deserves credit. Despite turning out a number of stinkers during his career, he generally has a sense of what he's doing -- or at least what the viewer will want to see.

      In the case of Bandits, what the viewer wants to see are the three top-billed stars running loose across the screen, and Levinson delivers (often enough, anyway). Thornton is perhaps the best of the three, capable of generating a good scene with either of his costars. He and Willis have the always-enjoyable buddy act down pat, and he somehow manages to make a neurotic romance with Blanchett seem charming.

      The script does have a good stock of banter like that. Despite leaving much to be desired as a storyteller, Peyton has a knack for dialogue, as well as believably putting it in the mouths of Hollywood's hottest stars. There's something extremely enjoyable about hearing Billy Bob Thornton talk about spaghetti sauce, or Cate Blanchett doing kitchen karaoke to the greatest hits of Bonnie Tyler.

      Despite the film's healthy supply of one-liners (and there are a few real hummers, including Billy Bob Thornton's complaint about being the brains of the operation), it's hard to overlook the gaps in the narrative, or the tentative style in which it unfolds. Peyton makes use of an obsequious narrator for exposition, and wraps the film up in a clever -- if somewhat obvious -- fashion (but Hollywood's aversion to the downbeat denouement should give most informed viewers a sense of where things are headed).

      Luckily there are the stars, and this is clearly a picture that they had fun making. The raw footage that didn't make the final product but can be seen during the end credits is evidence of this, and producers should never underestimate the power of a cast having fun at their jobs. It's contagious enough to rub off on the audience, and in the case of Bandits, so much so that they might forgive it for being an otherwise forgettable movie.

Craig Roush, 2001