Edie (Samara Weaving), a former teen getaway driver, is unwillingly dragged back into the criminal underworld when her ex-boyfriend (Karl Glusman) finds himself three million dollars in debt to a local gangster (Andy Garcia). The only way out: a high-speed heist from a local casino.

Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction has a lot to answer for. Ever since that film revived the 1970s style of crime flick and popularised novelist Elmore Leonard’s patter style of dialogue, Hollywood has been awash with idiosyncratic little derivatives. The rate at which they have emerged may have slowed down, but they still continue to emerge from time to time. Eenie Meanie is just the latest example: the directorial debut of Shawn Simmons, with a cast that includes Weaving, Garcia, Steve Zahn, and Randall Park. A 20th Century Studios production, it has been released on Hulu and Disney+. Back in the day, this is what we would call “straight to video”.

Andy Garcia is a standout, giving local mob boss Nico a refreshingly light tone and suburban feel. Beyond that. much of the cast is stuck playing stock variations of overfamiliar characters. Karl Glusman’s John in particular feels like something audiences have seen many times before. It is nice to see Randall Park play against his usual type, but he is barely in the film.

Samara Weaving is great in the lead, and develops a strong, interesting character for herself. That said, the film’s screenplay does her few favours: she is, essentially, the only woman in a movie filled with men. Furthermore she is constantly defined by them. She only became a getaway driver because of her father’s actions. She only gets dragged back into a criminal enterprise because of her ex-boyfriend. Time and again her story is dictated by the actions of other rather than her own interests, and when she is the only significant female character that gets rather tiresome. Does she break from those patriarchal influences by the end? Perhaps, but it still feels she is doing so on a male character’s terms.

When the action hits, it is well framed and energetically choreographed, but such scenes come too infrequently to satisfy genre demands. Likewise, comedic moments come and go, and broadly work quite well, but do not do enough to balance the more dour and rote drama sequences. A tonal shift during the film’s third act does it no favours, as if it is trying to withdraw emotional depth from a bank with making any deposits during earlier scenes. It is also hopelessly derivative: scenes that do not feel cribbed from Tarantino feel inspired by Edgar Wright’s Baby Driver instead.

There is a watchable film here, and Shawn Simmons clearly demonstrates potential to be a solid genre filmmaker. It is broadly enjoyable in fits and starts, but there are certainly much better options out there for crime film enthusiasts. There is a need for new ideas, or even a more interesting interrogation of the old ones.