'Lord of War' relies on tired tale to overindulge in arms discussion

It's obvious that "Lord of War," the darkly satiric chronicle of an arms dealer's career, is eager to discuss important topics and make thought-provoking points — such as its protagonist's assertion that AK-47s, not nuclear or biological weapons, are the weapons of mass destruction that the world should worry about controlling.

Lions Gate Films 'Lord of War' 2 out of 5 stars Director: Andrew Niccol Starring: Nicolas Cage, Jared Leto, Bridget Moynahan, Ian Holm, Eamonn Walker Run time: 122 minutes Release date: September 16, 2005 Rating: R for strong violence, drug use, language and sexuality. See showtimes On the web Official movie site View the trailer    Trailers require Quicktime Rate "Lord of War"   Go see it   Make it a matinee   Wait to rent   Don't bother Voter Limit: Once per Hour View Poll Results

Unfortunately, good intentions and occasional strengths aren't the only things that are obvious in this film, which rarely misses an opportunity to bludgeon viewers over the head. If the screen shows us greed, the speakers will throb with "Money (That's What I Want)." When the arms business collides with the drug trade, you can bet you'll hear Eric Clapton singing about "Cocaine." If star Nicolas Cage's dialogue hasn't made it clear how he feels about supplying the world's war zones, the filmmakers will replace a machine-gun's rat-a-tat with a cash register's "ka-ching."

Cage plays Yuri Orlov, a child of immigrants who stumbles into the arms trade in the early '80s and rises to the top in a progression of self-narrated scenes that, if you substituted dime-bags for rounds of ammo, could be any of a dozen "Goodfellas" knockoffs from the past 10 years.

The too-familiar arc is peppered with Ethan Hawke as the cop who's always one step behind Orlov and Eamonn Walker as an African dictator whose enthusiastic patronage Orlov would be better off without. Cage, with an intentionally flat, just-the-facts delivery, doesn't deliver the familiar vicarious thrills of the drug-dealer flick. Instead he's showing how one thing simply progresses from another; how being good at something bad — and being good at rationalizing away its consequences — ensures that you'll do it even when it isn't in your best interest.

In the end, writer/director Andrew Niccol takes a shot at turning this into a smart comment on America's off-the-books foreign policy; unfortunately, he lacks the finesse to pull it off.