“Smokin’ Aces,” Joe Carnahan’s follow-up to his 2002 hit, “Narc,” and 1998 film, “Blood, Guts, Bullets & Octane,” produced quite a bit of smoke, but unfortunately no fire. Better storylines and character development have been executed in well-made music videos, and though cinematic shout-outs to Ritchie, Tarantino and Rodriguez were present, “Smokin’ Aces” could have been done as a short film with a big budget.

Primo Sparazza, a highly influential and deathly ill mob boss, places a hit on Buddy Israel, a gangster wannabe played by Jeremy Piven, who has made a deal with the Feds in order to save himself. Piven’s coke-snorting, gun wielding, card-maneuvering performance is potent as his character falls from self-proclaimed innocence, but it’s not a far stretch from Ari Gold on a bad day.

The $1M hit is heard ‘round the world, and numerous bounty hunters descend upon Lake Tahoe, where Israel is holed up in a penthouse suite with his thugs. The outrageous nature of the various hit men, including a neo-Nazi redneck band of brothers, an ambiguously gay duo of hit women (including Alicia Keys, who was one of the movie’s saving graces), a face-altering Russian and a Spaniard who chewed off his finger tips in jail, were cartoonish, and their caricatures were more fatuous than cool or intimidating.

The Feds trying to thwart the hit, played by a resurrected Ray Liotta, a mis-cast Ryan Reynolds and an unimpressive Andy Garcia – who should go back to the “Ocean’s 11” franchise if he wants to appear in an ensemble piece – get caught up in the gratuitously bloody war that erupts at the hotel.

The movie’s second (and final) saving grace is the cameos that appear throughout the film. Jason Bateman steals the show as an alcoholic, cross-dressing lawyer (with a bad case of herpes), and it is fun to watch Matthew Fox play an anti-hero and see Ben Affleck die.

The twist at the end of the movie is silly and unimportant. Carnahan, who also wrote the script, should have spent more time on story development and less time thinking of neat ways for people to get killed. The tragedy montage at the end is itself a tragedy, and when the movie finished, nobody really cares. Basically, “Smokin’ Aces” could have been called “Blood, Guts, Bullets & Octane 2.”