What a drag. I’ve always had a secret soft spot for Julia Roberts, and I like Clive Owen, and the plot line here seemed to promise a simple and stylish little romp — a little Ocean’s Eleven, a little His Girl Friday, lots of pretty location shots to look at in Rome, London, New York, Dubai, Miami, etc. — but clunk clunk clunk. The grifter bits are hackneyed and predictable, the sex is robotic, and there were more laughs in two minutes of the 30 Rock episode I watched afterward to lift my dispirits than there are in this entire eight-reeler. Feh.