Sex & Bullets (1999) – Ruben Pruess.

Sex & Bullets wears its navel-gazing 90s-ness much like a patchouli oil-soaked hippie sporting a greasy CND badge, and a battered copy of Yes Relayer tucked conspicuously into his reeking armpit. During one eventful evening, the chat-centric narrative finds 6 disparate characters becoming fatefully intertwined by a series of increasingly far-fetched scenarios. And I mean no disrespect, Sex & Bullets is absolutely watchable, but it would be remembered sans google search if it had featured Jason Mewes and Steve Buscemi. As Goombah comedies go, this one's a mostly chucklesome affair, an engaging ensemble piece, wherein the performances are on-point, with, perhaps, Seymour Cassel's homosexual hitman coming off best, proving more charismatic than Judd Nelson's noisome, pussy-happy trigger-man. It's undeniably slick, yet occasionally feels a mite contrived, but in its enormous favour, the sparky script provides choice banter, and moments of genuine levity, keeping my noggin engaged until the stressy, kiss-kiss, bang-banged climax. In conclusion, I kinda dug Sex & Bullets, and it may well have been a 1^st time watch, plus the exceptionally fine score, and mirthsome epilogue proved winning.