Grade: D

Verdict: The King would not be amused.

Details: Starring Kurt Russell, Kevin Costner, Courteney Cox. Rated R for strong violence, sexuality and language. Two hours, 5 minutes.

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Review: With “3000 Miles to Graceland,” Warner Bros. is trying to pull the ol' bait-and-switch. Based on the movie's trailers, you'd expect a lighthearted, Las Vegas caper involving casino robbers disguised as Elvis impersonators. What you get instead is a bloody, tedious mess. Somewhere, in that great Seven-11 in the sky, The King is probably wondering if his estate's executors can get his name and likeness removed from this tired, formulaic piece of nada.

We leave Las Vegas after the first half hour, following an over-the-top shoot-out at the Riviera, led by Murphy (Kevin Costner), head of the five-man robbery crew. The bunch, who get away with $3.2 million, also includes Christian Slater and David Arquette, but don't get too attached: They disappear early as the flick turns into a long-distance cat-and-mouse game between Murphy and Michael (Kurt Russell). Though we never get to know much about these guys, Michael is, by default, the movie's hero because, unlike Murphy, he doesn't shoot innocent bystanders.

Joining in on the would-be fun is Cybil (Courteney Cox), doing her shiny-smily “Friends” routine in a role that calls for something completely different. She's supposed to be a single mom who beds Michael, then makes him wonder whose side she's really on. Sorry, Courteney, you're just not mole material.

Anyway, the stolen loot keeps changing hands, people wind up tied in trunks, more innocent bystanders die. Lacking any whiff of plausibility, Richard Recco's script relies on extreme coincidences, and throws in big explosions that seem designed to distract us from the gaping plot holes. Director Demian Lichtenstein's work plays like a series of show-reels from his music-video days; it's all slo-mo, quick cuts and exaggerated angles. And at over two hours, this stylistic hyperactivity gets real old real fast.

The only good thing about “Graceland” is that it gives you a guilt-free chance to hate Costner. But if you had to sit through “The Postman,” you already know what that feels like.

— Steve Murray, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution