Sporting a gold chain, a sleazy moustache, and an unfortunate haircut, Pierce Brosnan is amusingly weird as professional assassin Julian Noble. But all the eccentricities in the world can't save this preposterous pseudo-comedy.
A hit man who's slowly losing his cool, Julian lives a friendless existence and spends his time fraternizing with a variety of international hookers. At a hotel bar in Mexico City, he happens upon Danny Wright (Greg Kinnear), a genuinely kind, dopey businessman trying to put a string of hard luck behind him. The two strike up one of those unlikely friendships where, according to the wisdom of Hollywood producers, hilarious comic situations should ensue.
Danny is a schlump who wears an aqua-colored polo shirt when he's trying to let loose. He finds himself drawn to his mysterious, crude friend, who turns him on to bullfighting and the finer points of bumping people off. Alas, Danny is so relentlessly square and average that Kinnear (who possesses the comedic talents of Dick Cheney) seems entirely disoriented. Paired with Brosnan's seedy charm, Kinnear might have been more effective if he were an even bigger goober. Instead, he's perky and irritating. Also trapped in a thankless role is Hope Davis as Danny's adoring and equally bland wife.
Brosnan, on the other hand, clearly relishes playing the tacky opposite of his urbane James Bond. When Julian waltzes through the lobby of a hotel in a Euro-style, butt-hugging bathing suit or makes a filthy comment about underage girls, Brosnan couldn't be more likable. The movie's only other selling point is a nicely shot bullfighting scene.