What a disappointing vehicle this is for Games of Thrones star Lena Headey: a ropey, derivative thriller squandering all her onscreen smoulder and that dangerous smile that, as Cersei Lannister, had them quaking in terror. Here she plays a stripper called Gypsy who hates kids but goes on the run from the mob with an orphan. It’s a film that serves up undercooked chunks of Tarantino with a splat of John Cassavetes’ Gloria on the side.
Nine Bullets begins on the night Gypsy retires from exotic dancing – so just in time for a good perv of her wearing gold nipple covers. Gypsy has written a memoir about her life as a stripper and landed a life-changing publishing deal. But just as she’s about to drive off into a new life, gangsters bump off her neighbour Ralph (Zachary Mooren), a mob accountant who’s been fiddling the books. The only survivor is Ralph’s young son Sam (Dean Scott Vazquez), who Gypsy reluctantly agrees to drive to an uncle in South Dakota, a trio of goons on their tail. It’s a road trip of second chances, redemption and some clunky plotting.
By miraculous coincidence, it turns out that Gypsy once dated the psychopathic gang boss who wiped out little Sam’s family. This is Jack, played by Sam Worthington giving the role as much energy he would a chiropodist appointment to get a verruca frozen off. There’s a spectacularly naff sex scene when Gypsy arrives at his soulless mansion to persuade him to call off his heavies.
Nine Bullets is unfocused to the point where you might want to scream with frustration. And for film with a running time bang on 90 minutes it feels torturously slow. Headey is never less than watchable, but what a wasted opportunity.
• Nine Bullets is available on 6 June on digital platforms.
