Bruce Willis does some mighty moustache acting in this one. He grows a big one—like one of those NYC cop babies—and walks around drunk to display despondency. While his facial hair is mighty, as is his hairpiece, the film around him is sort of a drag. Willis’ cop is told to transport a convict (Mos Def) to court to deliver testimony. When somebody tries to shoot his ass in transit, dirty cops become the thrust of the story. Willis is weary and, thus, really boring, while Mos Def employs a whiny accent that sounds like the voice Howard Stern used in Private Parts for his “Kill the white man!” joke. (Yes, it’s an obscure reference, but I assure you, I’m right on). Richard Donner directs what starts out as a realistic look at a life gone bad, but then things get too nutty to believe. Oh, and Mos Def’s character is a baker who wants to someday own his own shop; I think this was supposed to make him cute and endearing and perhaps distract us from the mighty Willis moustache. Didn’t work.