Stealing, in an altered form, a line from Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues" is just the beginning of I Shot A Man In Vegas' shameless pilfering from superior material, most notably Reservoir Dogs and Akira Kurosawa's Rashomon. As in the latter film, a crime is committed and various people—in this instance four bar-hopping friends—give accounts of what has occurred. However, unlike Rashomon, which used the subjectivity of each character's conflicting account to profoundly illustrate a point about the elusive nature of truth, I Shot A Man In Vegas simply uses repetitive, non-conflicting accounts to pad out the running time of an unpleasant movie. As it is, at least half of the film consists of unhappy people yelling at each other while driving around with a dead body in the trunk—a trunk that naturally lends itself to a point-of-view shot, a la Quentin Tarantino. References to "new" Elvis stamps and Grateful Dead concerts place this within the first wave of Tarantino knockoffs, as do heated discussions about pop culture and the otherwise inexplicable presence of then-struggling Janeane Garofalo. Actually driving around with unhappy people in a corpse-carrying car would likely offer more entertainment than watching such a tediously poor depiction of the same.