The Mexican

The chemistry works in a baby way. She's more like his sister than a longtime girlfriend. They argue, she throws things, he pleads. She says he's selfish. He drives off.

He is accident prone. He doesn't pay attention. She worries the relationship, like a dog with sheep. She needs him to say the L-word. He says it. She needs him to say it again.

The point about these two is that they can't live together and can't live apart. Nothing new there. He says he'll never do another job for the Mob and will go to Las Vegas and marry her. The Mob boss says if he doesn't go to Mexico and bring back an antique pistol, he'll end up dead.

When he tells her this, she has a tantrum, flings his clothes into the street and behaves like a spoilt child. He goes to Mexico. She is kidnapped by a hitman (James Gandolfini) and escorted to Arizona.

Most of the film, they are apart. He's messing up south of the border. She's bonding with the hitman, who turns out to be gay. Meanwhile the plot takes a dive.

Capers without comedians can be less than funny. This is a play-thing. Brad Pitt oozes charm, as the idiot Jerry, who can't understand why nothing goes right for him. Julia Roberts, as Sam, who says she has the hands of a croupier, is on holiday after Erin Brockovich and having a good time.

Jerry behaves like a college boy on his first trip out of school. His gauchness becomes annoying, because no one can be this naive and live, especially when gangsters are involved. Sam can be hysterical and highly strung, as well as soft-hearted and sweet.

They are not sexy together, which is surprising, possibly because they're not taking it seriously. Gandolfini acts them both off the screen. Gore (Mousehunt) Verbinski treats the whole thing as a romp, which it is in a way, but not in another. He should take lessons from Jonathan Demme, whose Married To The Mob is a classic of the genre.