It's movies like After the Sunset that make me realize just how old movies like The Sting, Goldfinger, and Ocean's Eleven are. Those movies weren't all great, or even good, but they had one crucial thing in common—they were all cool. Now, when I say "cool," I don't mean the modern-day slack-jawed teenager's definition, I mean the real cool, the kind you could only achieve through style, charm, and most of all, attitude. Think Brando, think Sinatra, think James Bond—they were cool because they acted a certain way, not because they drove nice cars and had lots of money (although, that never hurt them). Modern day movies, especially action movies, thrillers, and heist films, have totally lost the definition of cool (and it's not like coolness has changed—the fashions may be different, but in terms of attitude, we're still humming the same tune). After the Sunset, despite boasting definite style and affluence, has no idea what cool is. Beneath the Gucci suits, pretty girls and fast cars, After the Sunset is a hollow, uncool void, an insubstantial commercial for the wants and wares of the rich and famous.

After the Sunset is a heist film/buddy comedy directed by veteran bad movie maker, Brett Ratner. It is a story of two extremely sexy jewel thieves, Max Burdett (Pierce Brosnan) and Lola Cirillo (Salma Hayek), who are business partners and lovers on the side. After stealing more than their wallets can bear, Max and Lola decide it's high time to retire. They move to a beautiful Caribbean island where they can live out their days as normal wealthy snobs. However, there's one man who doesn't believe that Max and Lola are in retirement. His name is Agent Stan Lloyd (Woody Harrelson), an FBI agent who has been trying to bust Max for many years without any success. Stan plans to keep a close watch on Max and Lola, especially since their new island home also happens to house a giant cruise ship, where the Third Napoleon Diamond—the only one Max hasn't stolen—is on display. Lola is perfectly happy with retirement, but when Max sees that diamond, the old itch comes back. Now it's a matter of getting around Lola and Agent Lloyd to make one last big score.

A good thirty minutes of the movie is devoted to Max's heist, but the rest of it, strangely, is set for a buddy comedy starring Max and Agent Lloyd. While the incompetent Agent Lloyd tries to stay one step ahead of Max's plan, various idiotic circumstances force them into supposedly funny situations. There's a running joke about the pair being gay (touché!), which culminates with the obligatory bedroom scene where the two men wake up in each other's arms and make loud "yuck" noises when they realize someone could be watching. And lemme tell ya, it's not nearly as funny as it was when the joke first originated, about fifteen years ago. This is the same movie that wants the audience to think it's cool? For shame.

But hold on, let's talk about that. After the Sunset, when it isn't giggling about implied homosexuality, tries on its best Sinatra impression, but it doesn't have the same swagger. Brett Ratner made damn sure that his movie had all the accessories—the James Bond-esque gadgets, the cool cars, the objectified women—but nothing feels cool about After the Sunset. It's just a boring, attitude-less retread of so many other heist movies. There's never any reason to get excited about After the Sunset because it's essentially about absolutely nothing.

Well, okay there is one thing to get excited about. If After the Sunset is about anything, it's the staggering sexiness of its stars, Pierce Brosnan and Salma Hayek. For the ladies in the audience, there's plenty of shots of Brosnan walking in the sunset's glow without a shirt, and for the men, Salma Hayek literally does nothing but saunter around in skimpy clothes. The men will probably be happier than the women, since Hayek only stops her little tease to deliver a line of sour dialogue or to bend over toward the camera, revealing her impressive cleavage. Let me be the first to say that I do not object to this. After the Sunset is a great peep show. But, give me a break—Pierce Brosnan and Salma Hayek are both very good actors and can be counted among the coolest of the cool in Hollywood. Why, then, should they sacrifice their style to be the flesh toys of a perverted audience? You can make Brosnan and Hayek sexy and still honor their talents. Has Ratner ever seen GoldenEye or Frida?

And let's not even mention Woody Harrelson, who's so nerve-grating as Agent Lloyd that you just want to hit him. So, to sum up, After the Sunset is not cool, and it's not funny or fun. It isn't really anything. So, it's your choice—you can see After the Sunset for $9.50 or buy a copy of Maxim magazine for $5.00. Same effect, but the latter is cheaper.