The wife of a man who nearly died of an opioid overdose comes bursting into the office of the sleazy doctor who prescribed it, wrongly, in exchange for personal gain. She slugs the doctor, in her agony.
The scene comes deep into the new Netflix film and it feels bracingly real and tragic.
If only the rest of the movie, the latest in a string of opioid-themed films, felt the same. Instead, despite a high-powered cast featuring a reliably solid Emily Blunt, an expertly low-life Chris Evans and the gifted Catherine O鈥橦ara, the film tries too hard to be something it isn鈥檛, or shouldn鈥檛 be: slick and breezy and too clever for its own good, filled with mockumentary interviews, wild montages, and other tricks used to more disciplined effect in more accomplished films.
Not that Blunt isn鈥檛 an effective presence here as Liza Drake, a struggling, single Florida mom who works at a strip club but wants to move up in life 鈥� to be treated with respect, and to support her ailing teen daughter and her flighty mother. Indeed, Blunt carries the film with her intelligent and likable presence.
But that speaks precisely to the other big problem with the film, which is directed by 鈥淗arry Potter鈥� vet David Yates and inspired by the article and book by Evan Hughes, telling the real-life tale of an opioid startup that intentionally mis-marketed a fentanyl spray meant for severe cancer pain. Here, the bare bones are the same, but Yates and screenwriter Wells Tower invent their own corrupt company and their own characters.
And the filmmakers seem determined to make their protagonist likable. In giving Liza a fairly ironclad excuse for her actions 鈥� her sweet, plucky daughter needs costly brain surgery 鈥� they take an easy way out. Not to mention that through most of the film, Liza believes (unbelievably, really, given her smarts) that she鈥檚 merely helping patients get the right drug. Wouldn鈥檛 it have been more interesting to see Blunt play a character who knew exactly what she was doing?
Instead, Liza claims at the start, looking back: 鈥淚 did it for the right reasons.鈥� And here鈥檚 sales rep Pete, her unscrupulous colleague: 鈥淭his was 2011. Strictly speaking, we were not part of the opioid crisis.鈥� Evans, leaning into the sleaze, is fun to watch throughout, though the filmmakers care oddly little about his backstory.
Then there鈥檚 Jackie, Liza鈥檚 mom, wacky but also steely, and, in the hands of a wonderful comic actor like O鈥橦ara, vivid in everything she does. Lest you think Mom doesn鈥檛 approve of Liza's slippery new career, heck, she joins her at the company, and even makes moves on the boss 鈥� but we鈥檙e getting ahead of ourselves.
When we first meet Liza, she鈥檚 living in her sister鈥檚 garage. At the strip club, she meets Pete, who, mid-flirtation, suggests she come work for him, promising $100k in commissions in one year.
Liza鈥檚 daughter, Phoebe (Chloe Coleman, in a lovely performance) gets in trouble at high school, engaging in what one might call, um, arson. We also learn she suffers from epilepsy. She requires a stable environment, the doctor says. And then Liza and daughter get kicked out of the garage and move into a cheap motel, eating instant noodles. Liza reconsiders that job offer.
Outfitted with a fake resume 鈥� Pete, with a quick edit, gives her a biochem degree 鈥� Liza gets hired by Zanna, the company run by eccentric billionaire doctor Jack Neel (Andy Garcia, efficiently creepy) and proves a quick study. Against all odds, she finds a doctor (Brian D鈥橝rcy James, playing against type as a sleazeball pain doc in need of a hair transplant) to write a prescription for Lonafen, a sublingual fentanyl spray. Soon she鈥檚 corralled him into a 鈥渟peakers program鈥� designed to bribe more doctors.
Moving quickly from sundresses to color-blocked power ensembles, Liza starts raking in commissions, and she and Pete hire a team of hungry salespeople. Pete likens what they鈥檙e doing to driving a few miles over the speed limit 鈥� technically illegal, but everybody does it. Meanwhile, Liza鈥檚 suddenly able to afford a condo fit for a king, buy Mom a car, and enroll Phoebe in private school.
Zanna, named for Neel鈥檚 own late wife, goes public, and is the industry鈥檚 new kid on the block. The company鈥檚 celebratory slogan, shouted at decadent parties: 鈥淲e Own Cancer!鈥�
But things start getting uncomfortable. Neel, increasingly paranoid, rejects Liza鈥檚 proposed compliance plan. Then, he decides the best way to improve flat sales is to market Lonafen off-label 鈥� for any kind of pain, even headaches.
Liza is aghast 鈥� Pete, not so much 鈥� but her daughter's condition worsens, and Medicaid won鈥檛 cover the operation. She needs cash. Then, patients start overdosing. The look one man鈥檚 widow gives a weeping Liza, wordless, is chilling.
The pace picks up as the law starts bearing down. But ultimately, 鈥淧ain Hustlers鈥� feels like a retreading of the same ground covered in other recent works, bringing nothing especially new to the table and, in splitting the stylistic difference between slick/breezy and poignant/authentic, succeeding fully at neither.
鈥淧ain Hustlers,鈥� a Netflix release that begins streaming Friday, has been rated R by the Motion Picture Association 鈥渇or language throughout, some sexual content, nudity and drug use." Running time: 122 minutes. Two stars out of four.
Jocelyn Noveck, The Associated Press
