Swerve

As it zigs and zags, its plot unravels rather than tightens, and its curveball of an ending is bound to leave audiences feeling as double-crossed as some of the characters.

You've got your duplicitous blonde, a briefcase full of money, the hapless patsy, the angry cop, the loose cannon and the speeding train. Everything's so in order that you could doze off and catch up with the plot within seconds of reawakening.

It's enjoyable enough, but low on novelty, beyond the stark beauty of the sun-bleached Outback landscape.

As the title of "Swerve" suggests, there's a lot of driving, and cars and characters veer, though never far enough for either to arrive at some place, some narrative, that's remotely new.

The story is uninspired, Lyons looks lost, and Booth makes for a bland femme fatale.

The more narrative wrenches this modern-day noir throws at its characters-notably several literally physics-defying leaps of logic-the less involving it becomes. There are a few too many twists on this highway.

If you can grin and bear the fact something always comes up to replace the previous problem just solved, there is entertainment to be had.

Swerve plays out like a down under version of No Country for Old Men, sapped of any sense of tension, logic or charm.

A series of winding roads lead nowhere in this low-budget Australian thriller.

But for the most part, the most shocking thing about Swerve is how utterly straightforward it is.

Almost all the parts of Swerve -- the predictable storyline, thin cast and flaccid action -- feel worn-out and second-hand. They still work, but they're not much fun to watch.

A watchable genre exercise.