William H. Macy is one of the best character actors working today, his presence enhancing everything from Boogie Nights to Fargo to E.R. Unfortunately, there aren't many films written specifically for middle-aged men with average-guy looks, which might explain Macy's attraction to The Con, a direct-to-video feature that gives him a rare starring role as a soft-spoken, apparently simpleminded Southern handyman who's unaware that he's due to inherit a fortune. However, as co-writer with director Steven Schachter, Macy can only be granted so much forgiveness for this slow-paced, mush-headed movie. Seeking to pay off a mob debt, big-city hustler Rebecca De Mornay drifts into Macy's life with the intention of marrying him, taking his money, and moving on. With all the skill of a grifter whose education comes solely from skimming through Jim Thompson paperbacks, De Mornay passes herself off as a Georgia schoolteacher with an enthusiasm for swamp boating—an interest that, along with dresses designed to raise eyebrows, captures Macy's attention. Things get complicated, however, when she finds herself developing an attachment to the overalls-and-Coke-bottle-glasses-clad Macy shortly before the mob shows up in their sleepy Mississippi town. Macy's film feels like third-rate David Mamet with a transfusion of TV-movie sentiment. It's not exactly unpleasant to watch, but Macy has written himself material so pat and predictable that even he is unable to elevate it. Maybe someday someone will write him the starring vehicle he deserves, but until then, Macy is better off lending valuable support from the sidelines.