Review: St. John of Las Vegas

Albuquerque insurance company owner Mr. Townsend (Peter Dinklage) sends claims adjuster John (Steve Buscemi) and fraud investigator Virgil (Romany Malco) to Las Vegas to prove that stripper Tasty D-Lite (Emmanuelle Chriqui) was not rear-ended in her 1970 Buick and suffered a neck injury. Citing Dante Alighieri and William Eggleston as inspirations, writer-director Hue Rhodes accessorizes this on-the-road comedy with Sundance-stale quirk. John originally relocated to New Mexico to beat his gambling jones, so his return to Nevada on business suggests a relapse is in the cards. Most of the story is structured as a flashback from the night he attempts to buy $1,000 worth of lottery tickets at a convenience store in the desert. His voiceovers and dream sequences add few laughs. In the adjoining cubicle, there’s Jill (Sarah Silverman) with smiley-faced fingernails who wants to play footsie. Random local color is supplied by an angry, heavily armed nudist and a despondent sideshow act who’s trapped in his “Human Torch” suit by a busted on/off switch, waiting for his fuel supply to run out. Buscemi’s signature persona was the known quantity attached for baiting out-of-state gamblers to bankroll this made-to-order indie. “This is your opportunity to become a true industry insider,” invites the internet site of IndieVest Pictures. Although pitched as “a managed-risk opportunity,” “St. John of Las Vegas” pays out few dividends for the audience. Rhodes only manages to diminish the marquee value of his bankable cast. There’s no tie-in with a new edition of “The Inferno.” With Isabel Archuleta, Tim Blake Nelson, Jesse Garcia, John Cho, Aviva. 85m. (Bill Stamets)