Director Rod Blackhurst makes a credible attempt at a sharply scripted noir about a travelling salesman turned drug runner

Giving heavy credence to blokes of a certain age – and likely targeted at them too – this noir thriller lands squarely in Coen brothers territory and does a creditable job holding its own there. Set in the mid-90s and starring character actor Scoot McNairy as veteran salesman Cliff, flogging defibrillators on the north-western stretch of the Interstate 90, it packs just enough of a sociological load in the chamber to break open the American sternum.

Cliff’s cardiological gig flatlines when his buyers catch wind of his involvement in a scam at a previous job which resulted in the suicide of an accomplice. Unable to find more work, he falls back in with running buddy Ricky (Kit Harington, sporting a fearsome handlebar ’tache), who recruits him for the local cocaine racket. Read the exacting T&C with his face pressed to a table by kingpin John (Josh Lucas) and chaperoned by one of his goons, Cliff is charged with running a few bricks of dope down the highway and returning with the cash.