Starring: Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek, Johnny Depp, Willem Dafoe

7.5 out of 10 stars

"Are you a Mexi-can, or a Mexi-can't?" sneers cagey and slightly crazy CIA agent Sands (Johnny Depp) to Cucuy (Danny Trejo), a tough guy with a face like a cragged mountainside, who's balked at following one of the gringo's orders. Towering far above the somewhat slight Sands, with a presence that brings to mind the definition of "immovable object, " Cucuy is obviously not a man whom to slur lightly. Giving the agent a level, solid gaze tinged with the slightest hint of resentment and a larger hint of menace, he delivers his response in a flat sneer:

"I'm a Mexi-can."

In the hands of filmmaker Robert Rodriguez, this tiny little exchange becomes a comedic gem in the long string of bloody, brawling, and ultimately brilliant jewels that makes up Once Upon a Time in Mexico. A rag-tag sequel to Rodriguez's 1995 Desperado (which in turn was a quasi-remake of his 1992 El Mariachi), Once Upon a Time is a most welcome return to form for the filmmaker, who's spent the past three years tickling the family film funny bone with the Spy Kids trilogy. Falling ill to the symptoms that befall almost all sequels – increasing budgets yielding diminishing creative returns – the Spy Kids flicks were nice distractions, but after the third installment, the question hung in the air as to whether Rodriguez would ever pick up his fine filmmaking guns again. Fortunately, he has, and even more fortunately, he's come out blazing.

Whereas Rodriguez's pre-Spy Kids outings – The Faculty and From Dusk Till Down – showed a hearty enthusiasm married to wavering filmmaking that coasted high on style but never quite soared for more than brief spurts, Once Upon a Time is steered with a steady hand that revels in its gunfights and acknowledges its guerilla-filmmaking roots, but serenely rises above them as well. With its obvious debts to Peckinpah and Leone, among others, it's a romp for anyone who loves a good shoot-em-up, but it's Rodriguez's sly humor with his story, his actors and his camerawork that puts this in mini-cult status from the get-go. When a filmmaker credits himself as having "shot, chopped and edited" his own flick, and makes you empathize with cream-puff stars like Eva Mendes and Enrique Iglesias, not to mention a nearly misshapen Mickey Rourke, you know you're in the presence of someone who loves to toy with genius.

Resurrecting Antonio Banderas from Desperado, Once Upon a Time once again finds the guitar-and-gun wielding El Mariachi (known also simply as "El") as the most wanted man in Mexico, for good and for bad. Forced out of solitude by the corrupt Sands, El is recruited for an assassination plot against the president of Mexico – or rather, to foil said plot. Hatched by the eeeevil drug lord Barillo (Willem Dafoe, slicked with bronzer), the assassination is meant to be nothing short of an attempted coup and takeover of Mexico. Barillo's hired man is General Marquez, with whom El has a hefty score to settle, one that involves the beautiful Carolina (Salma Hayek). CIA Agent Sands knows all this, and isn't above a little blackmail and double and triple-crossing to get what he wants done. He may be in it for the money, but El is in it for Mexico itself.

Straightforward enough, but Rodriguez has even more characters and machinations up his sleeve, including a comely government agent (Mendes), a retired FBI agent with his own score to settle (Ruben Blades), a Chihuahua-toting henchman (Rourke) with a colorful past, El's two mariachi backup guys (Iglesias and Marco Leonardi), and, it seems, the entire Mexican population, who ain't gonna take a corrupt coup lying down. Filling in the lines with all these colorful elements, Rodriguez plays fast and loose with the storytelling, starting with the re-enactment of a tall tale starring El and Carolina that sets the bloody-funny tone to the bullet-riddled finale, in which not only is most everyone bullet-ridden but apparently shot into the air with a cannon as well. Imagine a piñata stuffed with blood, guts, bullets and octane that's been hit with a flying torch and you have an idea of the riotous explosion that results. Not only is the content of the movie breathtaking, but so is Rodriguez's nimble manipulation of everything – the adrenaline rush comes not only from the movie itself but the anticipation of watching Rodriguez keep everything going with the momentum he's built up. Though the movie does slow in a couple places, it's never less than thrilling and compelling.

And the most thrilling and compelling thing about the movie is Johnny Depp, who's the nastiest little bit of business you ever wanted to pick up and put in your pocket for safekeeping. Though Banderas is a solid leading man (and one of those men who just keeps getting more attractive the older he gets) and Hayek is a sizzling screen presence (she gets to let loose after the angst of Frida, but alas only for a glorified cameo), it's Depp who walks away with this movie, even when he's coated with special make-up effects that seem to come direct from Hershey's Chocolate (trust me, once you see it you'll understand). Upping the ante on his Captain Jack from Pirates of the Caribbean, he's nasty, slimy, corrupt, amoral, slightly greasy, more than slightly psychotic…. and absolutely adorable. Sporting a fake third arm and dialogue that must have been created on the fly (if not, higher kudos to Rodriguez), Depp is the amazing charismatic center of the film, whether he's baiting Banderas or flirting with Mendes (after she throws a gunshot at him: "Are you trying to give me a hard-on?"). It's during the film's riotous climax, though, that he truly ascends to amazing heights, with an assist from a local urchin and a gunslinger outfit that must have passed through Bob Mackie's sewing machine. If you weren't convinced with Pirates, you will be with this movie: Depp is dope.