Alan Rudolph's mannered style seems best suited to low-key character studies where the members of an ensemble can reinforce each other's strengths. The film noir baggage of this odd little amalgam, however, keeps Trixie's talented players from turning out another Rudolph classic. Trixie finds the writer/director exploring his perennial themes -- alienation, lust, boredom, neurosis, and the surrealism of our hidden, inner lives -- through a framework of self-aware gumshoe clichés. Unfortunately, though, Rudolph gets too caught up in the genre gimmicks he's toying with to capture the elusive spirit of human connection. Instead, we get lots of individually amusing moments that don't quite add up to an emotional whole. On the plus side, Emily Watson finally displays some self-mocking humor as she portrays another of her off-kilter, not-of-this-world heroines. Spouting truly funny and strangely acute malapropisms and constantly misunderstanding the world around her, she's an existential everywoman with a heart of gold. Unfortunately, though, Trixie's sweet center provides the only emotional entry point into the film as Rudolph juggles too many lurid plot threads and red herrings: sex scandals, hapless goons, wacky shootouts, and shocking denouements. Amidst all the confusion, Nathan Lane has a lot of fun as a witty lounge singer with a cynic's heart and a playwright's ear, while Dermot Mulroney manages to uncover something touching in the character of good-time guy Dex Lang. Unfortunately, though, Leslie Ann Warren and Nick Nolte, both highly capable Rudolph veterans, don't get the chance to connect completely. Warren barely gets enough screen time to register, while Nolte's cartoonish senator is a bawdy clown who provides comic relief and drives the plot but displays little inner life. Ultimately, it's this emphasis on wacky plot and zany characters over emotional interiors that marks Trixie as a lesser effort.