Overreaching from its title onward, Empire has a lot more ambition than ability to deliver on it. The film borrows liberally, though not skillfully, from Martin Scorsese's template for crime drama, and it owes a specific debt to Brian De Palma's Carlito's Way, with John Leguizamo substituting for Al Pacino as the Latino gangster trying to get out. To be fair, Empire does flirt with big ideas, and has real desire to give the mob movie a 21st century urban makeover. Its distinct chapters give it that epic quality, as the plot starts with the intense cauldron of gangland politics, then pulls off a radical shift in tone to the gangster's movements within yuppie society. Empire conjures both ends of Leguizamo's criminal spectrum with credibility, from legit street characters to a smartly seductive white savior (Peter Sarsgaard) dangling the carrot Leguizamo can't resist. The film even has the odd good sense to cast Isabella Rossellini as a matronly drug lord with acid in her veins -- one of several inspired supporting performances. It's Leguizamo, himself usually a supporting actor, who weakens under the weight of the movie, much as he did trying to carry Spike Lee's sprawling Summer of Sam. But he can't be blamed for the movie's hasty third-act collapse, which shrinks director Franc Reyes' deliberate build-up into a scant, single-scene payoff. The climactic clash between the financial world and the underworld -- a focal point of the film's ad campaign -- gets swept under the rug, and a stillborn epic whimpers to a finish at a miniscule 85 minutes.