Paul Levesque's over-the-top acting may be ideal for the larger-than-life world of WWE, where he grapples and grunts under the nom de ring Triple H. Forced to mime grappling with demons more internal than external, however, the ex--wrestling champ proves disastrously out of his league. Not that this would-be epic of loyalty, murder and betrayal starring His H-ness as an ex-con trying to go straight would have soared with a more expressive actor; the crime film's increasingly twist-heavy plotting (cigarette smuggling! parental revelations! the Louisiana tax board!) would still be as bloated as its star's pectoral muscles and as lastingly resonant as any random episode of SmackDown.
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