Lucky Numbers Movie Review

The tagline for this movie reads, "When they put their heads together... it's a no-brainer." I'd say that about sums it up, but I feel obliged to add that this witticism might aptly be suited not only to the film, but to the entire cast and crew of Lucky Numbers.

This is the story of two lovers. Well, except that they don't really love each other, but isn't that always the way? Russ Richards (John Travolta) and Crystal Latroy (Lisa Kudrow) are two self-absorbed local television celebrities looking for a little respect. And money. You see, Richards is more than just a locally renowned weatherman with his own private booth at Denny's. He's also a snowmobile dealer. Or would be, if only it would snow.

But when the bank forecloses on his dealership, his house of cards collapses and the only thing that could possibly save him is the state lottery. Therefore, at the advice of local gentleman's club owner Gig (Tim Roth) and with the help of his fair-weather lover Crystal, Russ sets out rig the drawing in his favor -- and winds up owing favors all around.

It's amazing how little a collection of some of Hollywood's hottest stars can accomplish when they really put their minds to it. This is one of the finest casts ever brought together for the creation of such a third-rate film. Except for Travolta, whose small, whiny voice makes him delicately suited to only a few grown-up roles, this cast really shimmers. Even Friends star Kudrow manages to put a little acting into it. Roth, though obviously typecast from his Pulp Fiction limey thug persona, is clever and endearing as the creepy and conspiratorial club owner. And Bill Pullman is subtly hilarious as the sleazy, slack-off anti-hero cop.

This movie sports some truly funny moments, mostly surrounding the climax of events, but it's just not enough to carry it off. The set-up takes far too long, and most of the story is plainly obvious starting with the end of scene two, after which time we endure a predictably shallow slide into the action of the film.

Fundamental to this flick's flaws is the lack of character depth. Russ Richards and Crystal Latroy are so primally empty that they never become interesting. Not that shallow characters can't be interesting, but these ones just aren't. There is no emotional investment in their plight, no reason to care for them, because they so clearly care nothing for either themselves or each other. So we just watch them duly perform their little antics, stooges in THX. And when the lights come on, we have experienced nothing.



Her Number was up.