This naff comedy-romance has McDermott's escaped con pitch up in Vegas looking for his heist loot and his beloved (Travis). The news is poor. Torch singer Travis is shacked up with Belushi's casino boss, and partner-in-crime LeGros explains his empty pockets with an incredible yarn. Cue a flashback to Tarantino's Johnny Destiny rising like Neptune from the hotel swimming pool, naked amidst thunderbolts and flashing neon light. No wonder he lost consciousness! And there's more. The guy who stole the booty was the same guy who gave McDermott a lift into Vegas. It's sad when deliberately self-mocking films backfire. This whimsical morass is a genuine trip to Palookaville. McDermott is no romantic hero, and the script is a woeful hash of Bus Stop, Repo Man and the musical sequences of The Fabulous Baker Boys.