Once Upon a Time in Mexico there were some fireworks

El Mariachi asks: "?Qu?© quieres en la vida?" or "What do you want in life?" I want a movie that doesn't try to answer this question while blowing up military tanks with flame-throwers hidden in guitar cases. And yet, Once Upon A Time in Mexico, the latest installment in the El Mariachi saga, painfully attempts to do just that. Directed by Robert Rodriguez, the filmmaker famous for creating the original El Mariachi on a micro-indie budget of $7,000, Once Upon A Time in Mexico completes the action trilogy about the infamous gun-totting troubadour El Mariachi with Antonio Banderas as the title role.

The first film, El Mariachi, was a tongue-in-cheek action adventure reminiscent of the old "spaghetti westerns" and it never took itself too seriously. Once Upon A Time in Mexico appears to be in constant limbo trying to balance almost farcical dialogue with mega-budget special effects and minimal substance.

Meanwhile Desperado heralded the return of a great heroic action character and helped launch the careers of both Antonio Banderas and Salma Hayek in the United States. Rodriguez's original lack of funding forced him to use his resources sparsely and economically, a technique that enhanced the film by packing a great amount of drama into even the smallest scene. Mexico, however, with its multi-million dollar budget, appears to be an overblown attempt by Hollywood to squeeze the last drop of profit from an underrated action series.

The story this time around is filled with so much angst and revenge as to drive even the mildest mannered musician to wild acts of raging violence. El Mariachi's newest adventure is filled with double-crossing henchmen, corrupt American civil servants, power-crazed drug lords and army generals, guitar wielding assassins, and not a single original plot line amongst the bunch.

After living a relatively secluded existence, the troubled Mariachi is thrown back into action. Still haunted by a mysterious past, he is forced out of hiding by the corrupt CIA agent Sands (Johnny Depp) in order to sabotage an assassination attempt on the president of Mexico. El Mariachi finds himself pitted against yet another amoral drug kingpin, Barillo (Willem Dafoe). Enlisting the aid of two additional (if not ridiculously random) mariachis for the job, Lorenzo (Enrique Iglesias) and Fideo (Marco Leonardi) the trio sets out on a convoluted mission of salvation for the president and all of Mexico.

While no previous knowledge of El Mariachi or Desperado is required to understand the basic plotlines of Mexico, the film actually falters by basing chunks of the movie on flashbacks that try to explain the original storyline to new audiences. Strangely enough, while Salma Hayek is prominently displayed on all posters and throughout the trailer, her character technically does not make a real appearance in Mexico except in these flashbacks.

The main character of Mexico may be the haunted Mariachi of Antonio Banderas, but Johnny Depp's Sands steals the show by bringing an enjoyable blend of smarmy treachery and self-aware humor to the otherwise dull and stoic assortment of cookie-cutter characters. Everything Sands does from cashing in on rigged bullfights to waging some of the most inspired gun fights in recent memory are carried out with Depp's characteristic fervor.

Banderas and Dafoe both deliver less impressive performances. When not showering his enemies with bullets or "surfing" down stairs on guitar cases, Banderas' Mariachi displays little more than perpetual brooding, a tedious development that diverges from the original humorously unsuspecting and fatefully na??ve character. The Mariachi of the first film, then played by Carlos Gallardo, was truly an accidental hero. Banderas seems to have lost that sense of oedipal powerlessness that is necessary to drive his character forward.

Dafoe, on the other hand, is not given enough real material to create a memorable character as he did in films such as Platoon, Boondock Saints and even Spider-Man. His Barillo is the clich?© drug lord: cold, calculating, and, of course one, who eventually undergoes plastic surgery.

The other minor characters suffer the same horribly underwritten fate as Barillo. As a case and point, Enrique Iglesias seems to be in this film for no other reason than a 30 second guitar solo and song. I felt compelled to jump into the film and whisper sweetly into his ear, "Mi amor, PLEASE don't ever try acting again. Just stand there and look pretty".

As a side note, please do not equate this film with the rich and intense world of actual Mexican cinema. Most films and filmmakers coming out of Mexico today have emerged as leaders and revolutionaries in global cinema. So to get the real "sabor" of Mexican cinema check out films like Amores Perros, El Crimen del Padre Amaro, Y T?? Mama Tambi?©n, and La Ley de Herodes.

. In a movie set in a colonial Mexican town and supposedly about a Mexican hero, an actual Mexican is far out of sight. Besides the limited presence of Salma Hayek, there is not a single actual Mexican in the whole film. While there appears to be a plethora of Spanish actors (i.e. Banderas and Iglesias) I feel it safe to assume that the only Mexicans here are half-hidden extras. Not that there is an apparent lack of Mexican talent (i.e. Gael Garc?­a Bernal and Diego Luna), but Hollywood often seems to thoughtlessly substitute one group of people for another. Granted, this is a separate issue, but it is still worth noting.

It's almost tragic that with such a talented director and cinema legacy, meaningless action and random, sloppy, Spanglish dialogue all combine to make this a more or less "cero" of a movie. Apart from a few rowdy action sequences, explosions, gun battles, and a seriously twisted performance by Johnny Depp (which might make the movie worth seeing only on video), Once Upon A Time In Mexico delivers little else than one would expect from the utterly average end of summer blockbusters.