Buscemi plays out his usual quirkiness

Opening Friday, Feb. 12 at Hillcrest and La Jolla Village Cinemas, “Saint John of Las Vegas” proves to be a worthwhile, but not phenomenal, creation of director Hue Rhodes.
The film boasts a reputable cast, featuring the legendary Steve Buscemi, the strangely sexy and humorous Sarah Silverman, “Weeds” star Romany Malco and the reserve currency of many young men’s spank banks, “Entourage’s” Emmanuelle Chriqui.
The plot itself has more twists and turns than the creation a 10- year-old might bring to life while playing Roller Coaster Tycoon, but each and every one takes you to an unexpected and bizarre dimension along the likes of a drunken weekend outing with Mel Gibson in Jerusalem.  
“Saint” John, played by the quirky and jittery Buscemi is an enslaved member of textbook dead-end corporate America. As a voluntary inmate of USA’s prison camps, known as cubicles, Buscemi lives day in and day out processing auto insurance claims over his Britney Spears-esque headset and aspiring to one day return to the dark past which preceded him.
The viewer quickly learns that before John was domesticated into a JC Penny’s suit, he was a gambling junkie, quick to blow his funds on anything from convenience store scratchers to the high stakes tables of Vegas, and now seems to have fallen long and hard from the heavenly graces of the Nevada gaming gods.
John’s boss, Mr. Townsend, played by Peter Dinklage, calls him into the chambers of middle management for what John believes is a promotion pep talk, only to find a rare but attractive opportunity laid at his feet. Mr. Townsend wants John to team up with his number one soldier in the fraud department, Virgil (Romany Malco), and investigate a farfetched car accident in the outskirts of Las Vegas.
The claim was filed by a Ms. Tasty D Lite (Emmanuelle Chirqui), who’s calling card obviously reveals her profession as a supplier of eternal happiness for those with deep pocketfuls of singles.
The old saying that “a stripper is lying when either pair of her lips are moving” holds true as Ms. D Lite files her claim for almost $200,000 stating that her 1970s muscle car has been totaled after being rear ended by a compact Asian Sedan and, due to injuries sustained from the accident, she is unable to render her services to the upper echelon clientele that often frequent squalid strip clubs.
John accepts the assignment, but immediately complicates the plot by partaking in a quick fornication session with his co-worker Jill (Sarah Silverman) in a workplace bathroom stall before heading out on the open road and giving birth to an incredibly unorthodox relationship, further proving that the United States is in dire need of breeding restrictions. He quickly second guesses his adventurous affair with the fraud department after being exposed to the acute and outlandish mannerisms of Virgil during the initial venture into Las Vegas.     
Virgil is best understood when described as Dog the Bounty Hunter of fraud investigations. The man has a serious sense of post-prison trauma about him and smokes more cigarettes than Keith Richards, but knows the ins and outs of fraud investigations in a comparable fashion to Hugh Hefner’s knowledge of silicone. Their findings lead Virgil and John down many freakish alleys of the investigation, as they constantly find themselves stumbling into offbeat societal circumstances. From close encounters in vigilant nudist camps fully stocked with fire arms, to interviewing a tow truck driver/circus performer who has somehow mistakenly trapped himself in a flame retardant suit that engulfs itself in a blaze of fire every 30 seconds, the plot no doubt has any sense of dullness.
While I have grave suspicions that the picture will not make its way to the Oscars, it’s still a very recommendable piece of cinematography. Both the filmmakers and the cast do an excellent job of fusing all the bohemian characters with the bugged out plot line, creating a worthwhile piece definitely deserving of your attention during some idle time.