Sean Kirkpatrick's directorial debut quadruples down on its urban-chic crime conventions, leaving no---and we do mean no---indie-grit clich unmolested. A PTSD-scarred marine (Kerson) comes home to bond with his wife and kid (names: Faith and Hope), but the neighborhood mobster needs him to resume his old enforcer job. Meanwhile, a returning African-American soldier (Blagrove) deals with crack-slinging siblings; luckily, he can still play sax in the local jazz club. Performances barely meet a junior-collegiate theater-troupe level, the narration hits maxi-fromage heights ("Mur-dah...it puts your guts in a vise every time!"), and just when you think it can't get any more derivative, out comes a glowing suitcase la Pulp Fiction. Rock bottom has now been firmly established.
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