A potentially compelling film noir story delivered in an irritatingly bright and overzealous package, Cleaner has two very excellent things going for it -- and their names are Samuel L. Jackson and Ed Harris. If you're a serious fan of either actor (and if you're not, you should be), then you'll definitely want to rent Cleaner once it (eventually) pops up in your local theater video store. Beyond the contributions from Jackson and Harris, however, there's very little worth talking about where Cleaner is concerned.

We start off with a potentially juicy concept: Sam Jackson plays a 'hazardous waste cleaner' who gets framed for a murder he (probably) didn't commit. And when I say 'hazardous waste cleaner' I mean that this is the guy who'd come to your house to eliminate the gore if someone happened to have their brains blown out in your living room. So things look pretty promising at the outset: We've got a great actor playing a strange role and doing a fine job of it -- and then the plot kicks in.

Seems that our "cleaner" has just cleaned up a murder that the police know nothing about. And even if they DID have a clue, they'd probably be thrilled about it because the victim was a stool pigeon who was about to blow the lid off some serious police corruption charges. So when Cleaner guy realizes that he forgot to return the house key, he's distressed to learn that The Wife (Eva Mendes) knows nothing about any bloodshed in her living room. But, oddly enough, her husband has just gone missing. (dun dun dunnnnn)