'Desperado' times call for 'Desperado' sequels

Being an avid fan of both Desperado and its multi-faceted director Robert Rodriguez, I very much wanted to walk into the theater and be blown out of my seat by Once Upon a Time in Mexico. Alas, it just wasn't meant to be. That's not to say the flick is meritless, it's just that the sum of its parts don't add up to a cohesive whole. Also, when dubbing one's film "Once Upon a Time…," you better come with the grandiose goods à la other, better exploits in the West, America and China. Rodriguez has essentially shot himself in the foot.\nOUATIM follows the further adventures of El Mariachi (a noticeably aging Antonio Banderas), who in a series of cyclical revenge machinations has amassed a laundry list of enemies as well as a mythic reputation. Enter corrupt CIA Agent Sands (an inspired Johnny Depp), who looks to employ the Mariachi as a hired gun in assassinating Barrillo (a slumming Willem Dafoe) -- a vicious drug kingpin with political ambitions. Double, triple and yes, even quadruple-crosses ensue in a muddled narrative akin to some weird crossbreed of Oliver Stone and Michael Bay, only with a Latino bent and with half the entertainment. Rumors abound that Rodriguez wrote OUATIM in three weeks -- it shows.\nRodriguez paints his cinematic palette in equal parts epic and moronic. The film, which was shot on newfangled digital cartridges, captures the Mexican villages and vistas beautifully, though the flick often looks too clean and lacks the sumptuous colors 35-mm afforded Desperado. Sadly, much of his cast (Dafoe, Rodriguez regulars Danny Trejo and Cheech Marin, lovely ladies Salma Hayek and Eva Mendes and seasoned character actor Rubén Blades) is squandered in favor of giving Enrique Iglesias more screen time. And I'm supposed to buy this Latin lame-o as a hardass? I think not.\nWhat saves OUATIM from being a complete and utter wash are a few inspired action sequences (Banderas' motorcycle/machine gun romp and Depp's final showdown come to mind). Acting props must go out to Mickey Rourke, as Barrillo's Chihuahua-toting lackey (strangely, the dog looks an awful lot like Dafoe), but the film belongs to Depp. Sporting cheesy '80s shades, "I'm with Stupid" threads, a pot leaf-emblazoned belt buckle, a hankering for crappy Mexican pork and the most tweaked of sunny dispositions you're ever likely to see; he's the real deal, unlike Once Upon a Time in Mexico.