Two dirtbags (Ryan Phillippe and Benicio Del Toro) kidnap a surrogate mother (Juliette Lewis), only to discover that the fat cat paying for the baby (Scott Wilson) is as nefarious as they come. In fact, it's impossible to trust -- or root for -- anyone in Christopher McQuarrie's post-Tarantino, Western-inflected noir, and at first the snaky, near nihilistic tale intrigues. McQuarrie (who won a screenwriting Oscar for 1995's The Usual Suspects) wields an eye for detached absurdity (one scene uniting shrimp and an ultrasound video is especially inspired), and he spikes the requisite car chase with admirably fresh turns. Yet forget about a Keyser Soze-esque sweetener: lacking the cerebral satisfaction of Suspects, this overcooked experiment in violent realism and anti-heroism lags into blood-soaked torpidity. By the time the inevitable, if blisteringly staged, fusillade of bullets erupts, it's a relief to see the bodies crumple.