John Cusack and Robert De Niro have spent so much swimming at the bottom it was inevitable they'd bump into one another. At least De Niro occasionally pops his head up to remind us how great he can be when given the proper motivation, but Cusack has taken the likable hangdog persona we love him for and frittered it away in one lousy thriller after another, and The Bag Man is just the latest. A cheapie neo-noir that seems to be inspired by Tarantino and Lynch, the film boasts a small army of bizarre characters tediously buzzing around one giant MacGuffin in a duffle bag, but we're never really given a reason to care about what's inside. Kind of sums up The Bag Man in a nutshell, really.
The film opens promisingly enough; with a conversation between De Niro and Cusack that makes up in tension what it lacks in wit. De Niro, sporting a ridiculous pomp of hair that would have been more fitting in American Hustle, is Dragna, an old school crime boss; while Cusack is Jack, his seemingly-reliable hit man. Cusack's clearly riffing on his old Grosse Pointe Blank deal here, and at least initially it works. We see him, recognize the role, and immediately hope the best for Jack....and by extension for the film as a whole. But that expectation and hopefulness soon becomes deadweight when the reality of just how mediocre The Bag Man is in every way. Dragna approaches Jack with a simple task: pick up a duffle bag, take it to this really shoddy motel (the film's original title was Motel), and wait for further orders. Simple enough, right? The only rule is that nobody is to open the bag. Period. The script co-written by director David Grovic banks everything on our supposed interest about the bag's contents, but wizened filmgoers know it doesn't matter. A MacGuffin can be spotted from ten miles away, and merely having other characters show an interest in the bag isn't enough to carry this leaden plot.

While we may have the best time hanging with De Niro, it's the flat back-and-forth between Cusack and De Costa we're forced to endure the longest. Cusack is especially sleepy and uninspired, while Da Costa breathlessly tries to find reason for her character to exist. For his debut feature, Grovic's muddy direction fits the dank and nasty atmosphere. You'll feel like a shower is needed afterwards, that's for sure. The Bag Man doesn't offer much else, but it does make you wonder how John Cusack could have fallen so far.