Clay Pigeons

Clay Pigeons is another queasy concoction from the post-film-school blender: Mix equal parts Tarantino, Coen brothers, and ”Strangers on a Train,” then puree until tasteless. Vaughn does a creepy dry run for ”Psycho,” and Garofalo nearly saves the film as a dryly exasperated FBI agent, but it’s hard to care for the plight of prairie Everygeek Phoenix as the bodies pile up around him. Not with director David Dobkin indulging in snottily obvious camp like setting scenes of slaughter to Elvis tunes. Return to sender, please.