Despite its catchy title, this is an excruciatingly long, violent, despairing journey into the heart of darkness - without a paddle. Going "from Rat Pack to fat pack," it's International Elvis Week in Las Vegas when Kurt Russell, Kevin Costner, Christian Slater, David Arquette, and Bokeem Woodbine - clad in glitzy jumpsuits and sideburns - stage an explosive, blood-splattered $3.2 million heist at the Riviera Hotel & Casino. After the excessive carnage clears, it's obvious that Costner wants all the cash for himself, so Russell grabs the loot and sets out to launder the marked currency, hooking up with a sexy grifter, Courteney ox, and her bratty, kleptomaniac kid (David Kaye) with two bumbling Feds (Kevin Pollak, Thomas Haden Church) in pursuit. Writer Richard Recco and director Demian Lichtenstein concocted senseless, humorless banter that passes for dialogue and a banal murder & mayhem plot in which not one participant is either likable or sympathetic. Rather than bother with character development, they fixate on deafening gunfire, fiery explosions, fighting scorpions and car stunts, often involving an eye-catching fire-engine red '50 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. Russell plays a cliche bad guy-with-a-conscience, while Costner is a one-dimensional, nasty, sinister mercenary who thinks he's Elvis's illegitimate son. As a despicable mother who abandons her son, Cox is not only shrill but so skinny that, clad in tight pants, she looks like a stork. In the final credits, Russell, who got an Emmy nomination for the TV movie "This is Elvis" (1979), finally does his impression of the King. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "3,000 Miles to Graceland" is an ominous 1. It's an ineptly edited, tedious trip to nowhere that is deservedly R-rated for strong violence, sexuality and language.