Killers

Editorial

Killers wears its $75million budget on its sleeve like a flashy, oversized Rolex. Sweeping views of Nice and the French coastline, designer threads and an expensive cast all look the part, on paper at least. But there's not a shred of substance beneath all the bling.

Kutcher's hit man role is beyond the pale, as are his stabs at playing romantic lead to Heigl, who does well as the daggy, newly single Jen (but whose roaring Knocked Up success now seems like a dim and distant memory).

Veterans Selleck and O'Hara are always watchable, regardless of the material, and both escape unscathed here as a result — although O'Hara's half-arsed alcoholic-mum gags fall embarrassingly flat.

Which is, in effect, what's so very wrong with Killers: it's horribly underdeveloped, coming off like a first draft of some vague, random idea. When the rinky-dink neighbours suddenly turn on Kutcher's Spencer with guns blazing, it's hardly a shock.

Ed Gibbs