By Jason Osiason

Easy’s Waltz feels like what would happen if Casino crashed into A Star Is Born but the Lady Gaga role is now Vince Vaughn doing all his own singing as a washed-up Vegas act turned viral. He belts out everything from Edge of Seventeen to The Little Drummer Boy, wobbling between sincere and surreal. Shane Gillis and Shania Twain pop in for blink-and-you-miss-it cameos, just to underline how unhinged this thing really is. Al Pacino shows up as Mickey Albano, a ruthless old-school casino talent booker, part Las Vegas villain, part Jackson Maine, slurring through monologues like he’s halfway between genius and stroke.

Vaughn plays Easy, a fading lounge singer chasing one last shot at relevance. His brother Sam, played by Simon Rex, manages him badly, enabling every delusion. The moment that defines the movie comes when Mickey orders Easy to humiliate a restaurant manager, played by Fred Melamed, who once fired him. It’s meant to be a power play but lands as something uglier—a glimpse of how desperation curdles into cruelty. You watch Pacino sneer and Vaughn hesitate, and the scene just hangs there, weirdly hypnotic and embarrassing all at once.

The filmmaking swings big but keeps tripping over its own ambition. Nic Pizzolatto directs like he’s trying to blend Scorsese spectacle with country-rock sincerity, but the mix never fully gels. The camera loves the neon rot of Vegas, the sweat on Vaughn’s face, the illusion of glamour that keeps rotting under stage lights. Yet every emotional beat feels off-tempo. The music numbers have enthusiasm but no rhythm, the editing swells and collapses like the director can’t decide if he’s making a satire or a tragedy.

Still, there’s something magnetic about the chaos. Vaughn throws himself into it, equal parts sad and swaggering, singing badly but meaning every note. Pacino is a fever dream of a performance—half parody, half ghost of his former brilliance. Havana Rose Liu, as Ruthie, the musician girlfriend trying to hold Easy together, gives the movie its only genuine pulse. She feels like she wandered in from a better film, grounding all the noise with actual emotion.

Easy’s Waltz is a total mess. It is overwritten, miscut, and often painfully off-key, but it’s never dull. It’s one of those entertaining movies you can’t quite believe exists, made with conviction but no control. An unholy blend of ego, music, and misplaced sincerity. Entertaining, badly made, and absolutely unforgettable in the strangest way. [C]