Pretty thin: "The Ice Harvest"

This may sound trite, since I know I've seen more than one critic slam a movie in this way. But a few minutes into "The Ice Harvest," I felt like I had come into the story halfway through. In other words, there seemed to be a lot missing up front, like maybe a half-hour of explanation for why the heck these people were doing what they were doing.

It's too bad, too, because I still like John Cusack and Billy Bob Thornton, despite their various missteps. Alas, they clearly shouldn't be in movies together. "Pushing Tin" pretty much blew, but I think it was better than this mess.

Our story, as it were, has Cusack as a lawyer and Thornton as a pornographer in Wichita, Kansas. (Why Wichita? Why not?) As nasty winter weather rages, the two apparently are finishing off the embezzlement/robbery of a local mobster. The big question is whether then can get away before the bad guy's henchmen catch them. Along the way, we watch Cusack interact with a comely strip club owner, his buddy/ex-wife's husband and other assorted oddballs.

The biggest problem with this movie, other than asking us to accept the muddled plot -- i.e., how these guys fell into cahoots, who the mobster is, what the relationship is between Cusack and the strip club owner -- is that it's not sure what it should be. Black comedy? Film noir? Heist film? It tries a little of each and succeeds at none, leaving us to watch Cusack mope around town.

Thornton has some mildly amusing moments here and there, and Oliver Platt -- as Cusack's drunk buddy -- provides some comic relief. But by the end -- which mercifully comes in less than 90 minutes -- I was left disappointed and a little pissed, since the people involved in this are capable of much better. Not only the two lead actors, but also director Harold Ramis. Sure, he's older now, but this is the guy who gave us "Caddyshack," "Vacation" and "Groundhog Day." Stick to funny, Harry.