Neither captivating nor repulsive, clever nor idiotic, technically stylized nor banal, writer-director Myles Connell's indie-noir The Opportunists comes about as close as a movie can to willing itself into existence without the guiding force of its creator. There's a measure of intelligence and ability on both sides of the camera, yet the film's practiced restraint is oddly regrettable, more a sign of artistic complacency than a butterfly touch. Well-established as it is, the crime genre, with its inherent conflicts and reliable tropes, serves as both the engine and the driver, coasting along without being wrenched down a more urgent or unpredictable course. In a finely calibrated performance, Christopher Walken plays the familiar role of a reformed crook drawn back into a life of crime. A renowned safecracker in his day, Walken has a tenuous grip on blue-collar contentment, with a steady girlfriend (Cyndi Lauper), a renewed closeness with his once-estranged daughter (Vera Farmiga), and a modest business as a car mechanic. But mounting bills and the influence of enigmatic Irish cousin Peter McDonald lead him into one last scheme to rob a securities outfit. Walken's character and occupation are probably meant as a nod to Jacques Tourneur's classic Out Of The Past, which starred Robert Mitchum as a charismatic grease monkey who can't go straight. The one interesting wrinkle in Connell's version is that his hero's sense of honor and dignity is misplaced: Rather than humbling himself by accepting a simple loan from his girlfriend, he risks losing everything in a heist because at least he's working for the money. It's a clever idea, almost better suited to comedy than noir, but it's also one of many conceits and relationships Connell doesn't bother to flesh out. Only Tom Noonan, in a nicely wired cameo as Walken's old partner in crime, makes any lasting impression. For every Out Of The Past, there are a dozens of rote exercises in the same genre, and The Opportunists, for all its integrity and smarts, is one of them.