A modern dusty Western, a twisty Hitchcock-ian thriller, a Cormac McCarthy-esque existentialist meditation on man, his internal crisis, an exploration of the price of fame and artistry, a slasher-like revenge picture, and even at times a black comedy, William Monahan’s ambitious, but overstuffed sophomore directorial effort, “Mojave,” wants to be several movies at once. While it has trouble working out which kind of movie it exactly is (answer: all of the above), its disparate elements do intermittently and effectively work. However, a shallow premise, pompously overwrought dialogue, and hit-and-miss execution makes for an occasionally enjoyable, but not entirely convincing effort.
It’s difficult to engender audience sympathy by opening a movie with a white, wealthy, spoiled 20-something star, who is full of angst, complains about being famous since he was 18, and is in the midst of an experiential crisis at being on top of the mountain and achieving everything goal he’s ever...
