Musicians who have attained a huge level of commercial success tend to use their clout in different ways. Frank Sinatra was an active supporter of the presidential campaigns of John F. Kennedy and later Richard Nixon. Michael Stipe used his prestige to help get Todd Haynes' masterful Velvet Goldmine made. Adam Yauch has used his status as a multi-platinum artist to help raise awareness of civil-rights abuses in Tibet. Master P, having scaled the heights of his chosen profession, has wisely chosen to use his wealth and fame to direct a Gary Daniels vehicle. The charisma-impaired Daniels, star of such memorable fare as Hawk's Vengeance and Bloodfist 4: Die Trying, stars in No Tomorrow as a mysterious secret-agent man sent to infiltrate the inner sanctum of an eccentric crime kingpin (a scenery-chomping Gary Busey, who looks here like he's off the life and high on drugs again). Second-billed Master P has a surprisingly small role in his third directorial effort, playing a rowdy-and-'bout-it weapons dealer who, in the film's most inexplicable action setpiece, lounges about the No Limit studio with Silkk The Shocker and C-Murder shortly before slaughtering half the cast in a scene that serves no purpose other than to get in plugs for P's rhyming siblings while letting him blow shit up. P is only in a handful of scenes, but it really says something about how boring and arbitrary No Tomorrow is that it actually picks up considerably during his violent appearances, and sags whenever it focuses on the bland Daniels and his tedious romance with a savvy prostitute. Lacking even the over-the-top weirdness of awful-but-fascinating earlier P epics, No Tomorrow is so hackneyed and familiar that it's likely to appeal only to the most easy-to-please No Limit soldiers.