A sub-major-league version of a sport posited as a purer incarnation of the game? A pairing of two comically bickering sportsmen? An aging athlete (or two) yearning for one more moment of glory? A beautiful, smart, free-spirited woman whose every action is nonetheless determined by her love of a sport and those who play it? Contemporary blues music used as a dramatic counterpoint? This must be a Ron Shelton movie. There's nothing inherently wrong with that, of course. The problem with Play It To The Bone isn't that it's written and directed by Shelton (Bull Durham, White Men Can't Jump), who, Tin Cup excepted, has done some fine work. It's that Shelton never lets you forget it, piling his offbeat sports-movie trademarks (or, by now, clichés) on top of one another. The product of creative frustration due to Shelton's inability to find a backer for a Bob Marley biopic, Play It To The Bone reportedly traveled from inception to release in less than a year. Too bad it feels that way, too. Woody Harrelson and Antonio Banderas star as best friends and nearly over-the-hill welterweights tapped by a sleazy promoter (Tom Sizemore) to fill the undercard of a Tyson bout when various misadventures force the previously scheduled contenders to bow out. Recruiting Lolita Davidovich, at various times in the past a lover to both, as a driver, Harrelson and Banderas hit the road for Vegas. Unfortunately, they seem to have thrown out the script somewhere along the way. After a promising start filled with Shelton's patented smart-jock dialogue (particularly evident in a three-way exchange concerning Banderas' sex life), Play It To The Bone heads into a black hole of familiarity, losing it altogether in the torturously extended boxing finale. (Which, unlike this month's other boxing movie, at least doesn't rip off Raging Bull in every shot.) All three leads remain likable enough, and the film's breezy tone doesn't hurt, but Shelton never hides the fact that he's running in place, however quickly he might be doing so.