[4.7/10] I think I’m done with Shane Black. I’ve seen his work as a writer in *Lethal Weapon*. I’ve seen his work as a director on *Iron Man 3*. And now I’ve seen the sweaty, cliched disappointment that is *Kiss Kiss Bang Bang*. The cumulative effect of those three movies is a firm confirmation that he and I are just not on the same wavelength, so I should spend my cinematic time elsewhere.

Let’s start with the easiest way that this movie in particular and I aren’t on the same page. The level of casual sexism at play here would be shocking if it weren’t sadly common a mere decade and a half ago (and hasn’t exactly gone away either). One of our protagonist’s “likable” traits is supposed to be his constant policing of female sexuality, in a character trait so miscalibrated it becomes utterly baffling.

Then there’s the fact that the film is ridiculously male gaze-y, putting fellow lead Michelle Monaghan and basically every other woman in the film in skimpy clothing and panning and zooming in on them in an objectifying way. I’m no prude, but there’s a clear dichotomy between the male and female characters in terms of who gets to be a character and who’s supposed to be a trophy and/or eye candy.

Then there’s the equally causal homophobia with respect to “Gay Perry” (which, in fairness, is a solid pun, at least). Even if you want to excuse the indiscriminate dropping of gay slurs as a product of the time, the film spends plenty of Perry’s moments on screen using his sexuality as fodder for the laziest of jokes in a way that quickly becomes cringeworthy.

That said, credit where credit is due, *Kiss Kiss Bang Bang* makes Perry the most competent and enjoyable character in the film. Much of that owes to the performance by Val Kilmer who pulls off the relaxed, capable, comfortable-in-my-own-skin vibe extraordinarily well and elevates a character and writing that even the likes of Robert Downey Jr. and Michelle Monaghan are otherwise sunk by.

That especially comes through in the dialogue, which plays as overly cutesy and eye roll-worthy when it’s aiming to be charming and witty. This is a fratty version of the sort of motor-mouthed script penned by the likes of Amy Sherman-Palladino or Joss Whedon, where everyone’s full of rapid-fire quips and references, only here, Black’s take on the same patter is to toss in the aforementioned demeaning shtick and otherwise fail to the conversations that ring that sets truly great dialogue apart.

The film’s also full of unavailing post-modern touches in a crime film that make it feel like a lesser version of what Martin McDonaugh would later pull off in *Seven Psychopaths* (starring Harry’s erstwhile rival, Colin Farrel). Harry spends much of the movie not only talking directly to the audience via voiceover, but yakking about the conventions of Hollywood movies and the way these action-mysteries tell their stories even as he’s in one. It plays as cheesy and too cute by half rather than a genuinely clever device to get a bit meta.

The conceit generates a smattering of laughs here and there (mostly just Abraham Lincoln coming in with the parade of not-quite-dead cast members at the end), but mainly just contributes to the fingers-crossed, “What is even the point here?” vibe of the whole picture. The same goes for how Black and his characters use a hackneyed series of mystery novels to poke at its own deployment of those same tropes. It doesn’t come off as smart or self-aware, just “too cool for school” detached.

It also results in an overly winking method for *Kiss Kiss Bang Bang* to telegraph its own unavailing mystery. There’s one decent, well-motivated twist here, namely the reveal of what really happened with Harmony’s sister that plausibly accounts for her suicide and justifies the inclusion of the pink-haired woman. But beyond that, everything else in the mystery veers between the plainly obvious and the convoluted/contrived. This isn’t one of those clockwork mysteries where everything snaps into place. Instead, it’s a whodunnit that just makes the various occurrences seem more random and a matter of good/bad luck than good schemes or better detective work.

That sense of contrivedness extends to the way our heroes get into and out of tight scrapes. Nigh-magical headbutts, corpse arms that can support the weight of a human body while the action hero type is able to simultaneously dangle and blast away the bad guys, and tons of people getting shot and ending up little worse for wear all let the film descend into the action flick cliché festival it otherwise wants to make fun of. These scenes aren’t plausibly staged and lack real tension or suspense given the playacting vibe of the whole piece.

Some of this could be forgiven or excused if you wanted to spend more time with any of these characters besides Perry. Our protagonist is all but unlikable, seemingly blowing off his friend’s death after the opening scene and having little more than a stock “I always cut and run; I’ve gotta see this through” speech to give him any depth beyond his quirks. Harmony is a prime candidate for “men writing women” collections to be scorned. There’s just nothing here other than an hour and forty-five minutes of self-satisfied suck.

Which is all to say that Shane Black’s vibe just doesn’t work for me. There’s a try-hard quirkiness at the core of his works that always seems to be holding the audience at arm’s length at the same time it tries to wink at us. There’s no humanity or soul to these pictures, instead just a bundle of smart remarks, metatextual nods, and contrived scenarios. Throw in the unexamined, oft-condescending takes on women and gay people, and you have an ostensible auteur whose visions just don’t resonate with yours truly. There’s better crime stories, better RDJ vehicles, and better fourth wall-nudging movies out there than anything Black, or *Kiss Kiss Bang Bang* can offer.