I knew before pushing play of 3 certainties:

1)   That Philip Seymour Hoffman was going to give a lights out performance

2)   Ethan Hawke would be typecasted as the typical passive, melodramatic, puppy-dog-eyed pansy role he's made us all accustomed to over the years    &

3)   My love for Marisa Tomei would be rekindled (i'd spend an entire afternoon pouring salt all over her glorious naked body, and spend the rest of the evening with her, a couple limes and a bottle of Patron Silver)  

In fact,  the mild porn introduction made me want to run to the store and pick up a new jigger and shot glass set...   fearing my Chess board shot glass set would not be enough to impress Ms.Tomei.      It also stated aloud that Sidney Lumet has entered your mindset and you're merely along for the ride.   ('Serpico' anyone?  'Dog Day Afternoon?)    This time around he takes you for a trip down a desperate highway,  a route where money, lies, sex/stupidity and betrayal is in the fast lane...   leaving the viewer with both hands tightly on the wheel and a look similar of those driving by the scene of a horrible car crash,  15 mph below the speed limit.

( ...  to be continued )