With the release of such box office clunkers as the cute-but-flawed Trixie and the woefully unwatchable Shadow Hours, film noir has taken a beating, leaving some critics to suggest the genre — with its slinky exploration of everyday life's seedy underbelly — has become obsolete, a victim of a voyeuristic culture whose citizens' every move is watched on cameras in ATMs and bathrooms.

The Woman Chaser, director Robinson Devor's debut film, puts that notion to bed. Consistently funny and frequently hilarious, The Woman Chaser stands out because it mines its humor by deftly weaving early '60s cool with the pathos and neuroses of the late '90s.

Set in Los Angeles, the low-budget, black-and-white flick stars Patrick Warburton as Richard Hudson, a con man, used car dealer and womanizer on the verge of an artistic epiphany.

The film opens with Richard purchasing a used car lot, mainly because he's bored and wants to make some money. Devor quickly establishes his protagonist's selfish cruelty — Richard makes a man who has never held a non-military job name his salary and has his salesmen dress up in Santa Claus suits even though it's sweltering in August. Add to that some callous voiceover narration about sexual conquests, and Devor has the basis for an intriguing character who is both compelling and morally repugnant at the same time.

Warburton, best known for his portrayal of Elaine's boyfriend "Puddy" on "Seinfeld," is the perfect noir anti-hero. His deadpan voiceover describing Richard's psychotic behavior is a killer complement to the movie's surreal goings-on.

It's not long before boredom strikes Richard once again. He decides the solution to his summertime blues is to do something creative. Never mind that he has no experience in the arts. Or so it seems.

"I knew what movies were all about. I had seen thousands," says Richard of his filmmaking qualifications, shortly before he enlists the aid of his failed movie producer stepfather, Leo (Paul Malevitz).

So Richard and Leo sell off their assets, empty their pockets and borrow some money from a studio. The $200,000 they scrape together will be the budget for The Man Who Got Away, written and directed by Richard Hudson.

From this point on, Devor's film takes on a Waiting for Guffman feel, as we watch Richard craft his masterpiece with the brand of actors, equipment and staging one normally gets with a budget of $200,000.

But outshining Richard's loveable cast of losers is the slick score that accompanies Devor's stunning visuals. From the swinging exotica of Martin Denny to the loungy Latin of Tito Puente, The Woman Chaser does for the exotica scene what Pulp Fiction did for surf rock.

But Devor likes a bit of futurism with his retro, and smartly takes his cues from oddball auteurs like David Lynch and the Cohen Brothers. Take, for example, Richard's Oedipal relationship with his mother (Lynette Bennett), a retired ballet dancer. A scene in which Warburton pays a visit to her studio is one of the film's most comedically bizarre moments.

"I knew you would come to dance with me today," Mother says, gazing lovingly into Richard's eyes. Before you quite know what's happening, the burly Warburton has whipped off his shirt and is capering — hairy, barrel chest and all — after his mother. The scene gives the bowling dance sequence from the Coen Brothers' The Big Lebowski a run for its money.

Warburton brilliantly colors in the lines handed to him by the screenplay. Indeed, the film's lone fault is that it doesn't quite give its star enough to work with. We never find out, for example, what motivates Richard to behave like such an extreme asshole. It's easy to overlook this, however, simply because Warburton is so adept at rendering — through voiceover, gesture and dialog — Richard's cruel, anti-humanist take on life.

But as much as the film owes a lot to its rising star, its direction and casting deserve equal praise.

Devor's black-and-white cinematography is breathtaking, with images so crisp you can almost see the particles hanging in the air when Richard exhales a cloud of cigarette smoke. A rehearsal scene from The Man Who Got Away shows Richard giving his child star a demonstration on how to properly lead her dog on a romp through the countryside. The camerawork here is elegant, sweeping slow motion, a surreal homage to feminine hygiene commercials of the '80s.

And unlike the fictional, low-budget The Man Who Got Away, The Woman Chaser does more with its dollar than you might think possible. Produced for $800,000, Devor's film employs the talents of a slew of unknown actors whose experience prior to this film consisted mainly of bit parts on television and minor stints in the theater. One actor, Malevitz, a pianist and suicide hotline volunteer, appears on screen for the first time but does an excellent turn as the constantly worrying, down-on-himself film producer Leo.

That The Woman Chaser doesn't suffer the same fate as The Man Who Got Away is its greatest success. Look forward to Devor's next project with enthusiasm. This is one to watch.

— Eric Wittmershaus (eric@flakmag.com)