After The Sunset Review

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Pierce Brosnan and Salma Hayek play retired jewel thieves sunning themselves in the Bahamas, where the temptation of one last heist proves too much.


If he's achieved nothing else with After The Sunset, helmer Brett Ratner has at least turned out something that'll salve the agony for anyone lamenting the demise of Baywatch. Assisted by a string of itsy-bitsy bikinis, Salma Hayek's cleavage is arguably more spectacular than the crystal-clear waters and toothpaste-white beaches of the Bahamas, where this was filmed - and doesn't Ratner know it. Certainly the blokes in the audience seemed to think so. To quote the whooping, hollering bozo behind Empire: "Man, she's hot!"

But Ratner is an equal-opportunities director, so Pierce Brosnan and Woody Harrelson also spend much of their time on screen with shirts off. And they make a rather nifty comedy duo, too, getting laughs with some predictable, but nonetheless enjoyable, set-ups: ending up in bed together (there's nowhere else for them to sleep, you understand), and landing a shark on a boozy fishing trip in one of the best scenes in the movie.

With its one-last-job storyline, After The Sunset dumps us in very familiar - albeit picturesque - territory. But the cast keep things snappy and sexy enough to stop you from caring.

As guilty pleasures go, this is as good as three rum punches on a hot afternoon at a beach bar. It won't do you any good, but hey, it's a lot of fun.