Imagine an average, 30-something man with a collection of DVDs representing his favorite films of the 1990s, the movies he watched a hundred times and endlessly entertained his friends by periodically spouting random lines from--PULP FICTION, DAZED AND CONFUSED, FRIDAY, THE USUAL SUSPECTS, BELLY, and TRAINSPOTTING. If, one enchanted night, those films got together and practiced the art of romance, their spawn would look a lot like NEXT DAY AIR. The plot revolves around a misdelivered package of drugs, and the resultant scramble by one side to retrieve the product, as the other side tries to unload it before the mistake is realized. All the stylistic flourishes of the Tarantino brood are here: the confused opening scene that will later be repeated with context; the fractured chronology of the story; the flashbacks featuring overexposed, vibrant colors; the use of subtitles to interpret drug code; the sadistic removal of an important body part with a big blade; and the apocalyptic hail of bullets as an exclamation point. There is a dazzling air of enthusiastic confusion blowing throughout the film as it tries to decide whether it is a comedy or a gangster film. But rather than simply alternating scenes of laughter with scenes of violence, director Benny Boom mixes these two volatile ingredients, so that moments of high tension are suddenly diffused as the characters themselves seem to realize the absurd gravity of the situation and begin to cower. At other times, playful exchanges inexorably elevate into heated conflicts so subtly that no one can quite remember where the shift occurred. Mos Def has a hilarious turn as a mumbling, thieving delivery man in this film where everybody has a hustle, from the drug kingpins to the chump managing the storage shed where they hide their loot.