Right away, hindsight emerges as the key theme of Poker Night — namely, its inherent benefit to sizing up one’s condition and circumstance … albeit well after needed. It’s an apt topic because I suspect the plot of Greg Francis’ twisty crime thriller wouldn’t hold up to the scrutiny of a second viewing.

But why worry about that when the first ride is fun?

Baby-faced police detective Jeter (Beau Mirchoff, The Grudge 3) recalls the advice of older, wiser cops when he’s caught in a sticky situation after trying to rescue a pretty girl (Halston Sage, 2014’s Neighbors): He’s Tasered, drugged and handcuffed by a psychopath hiding behind a reptilian mask in part sewn with dirty shoelaces. As deep as slogans on motivational posters sold at office supply stores, the words of wisdom were dispensed to Jeter during regular card games attended by fellow officers to whom he is subordinate.

Among them are Ron Perlman (Hellboy), Titus Welliver (Argo) and Super 8’s Ron Eldard (whose hair makes him look like he’s ready for trick-or-treating as Gerard Depardieu). When each cop shares his dick-measuring (metaphorically speaking) anecdote of life in the line of duty, we see it played out in full, making Poker Night a quasi-anthology of crime. Through each vignette, Jeter gleans a nugget of gumption to gain the upper hand against his crazed captor (Michael Eklund, Nurse 3D).

Since the entire movie is essentially a flashback — hindsight, ’member? — Francis shows off by continuing to dig as his characters’ recollections beget further recollections, often dipping a level or two deeper than necessary; at a couple of spots, I think we had a flashback within a flashback within a flashback within a flashback, but I can’t be 100 percent certain, and certainly you can see why. Responsible for both the script and direction, Francis is always on the move, which keeps Poker Night from becoming boring. It also makes it feel original, even though it’s not, borrowing openly from Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs and Joe Carnahan’s Smokin’ Aces, wicked sense of humor included.

Viewers may be worn out by the time the Night comes to a close, and if not, perhaps the multiple endings will expend your eyeballs’ last bit of energy for you. Francis’ flick is all over the board and as crazy as the Krazy Glue with which Jeter’s nearly nude body is affixed to the wall. But in a good way, hindsight and all. —Rod Lott

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