The bank robber is one of the few icons of American culture that hasn’t shifted much in the modern era. Since the dawn of the Wild West and the mythos of midnight stagecoach holdups, our country has been obsessed with robbers as the ultimate antiheroes. John Hillcoat’s Triple 9 attempts to play with that fetishization and the moral conflicts that result. It’s an ambitious picture, boasting a tremendous ensemble cast and moments of stunning tension. But with a script that can’t quite balance all of the characters at play, Triple 9 fails to break free from the genre mold.

The film follows a team of robbers as they engage in contract work for the Russian mafia. Among them are a pair of dirty cops, who play the game from both sides of the table. When they’re called upon to pull off an impossible job, they conspire to stage a “triple nine” (police code for the death of an officer) as a vital distraction. But like any good heist, personal relationships and elevating stakes complicate the matter.

There’s an impressive roster of talent in Triple 9, including Chiwetel Ejiofor, Casey Affleck, Anthony Mackie, Woody Harrelson, Aaron Paul, Kate Winslet, Gal Gadot, and Norman Reedus. It’s a tremendous cast in both size and profile. Yet nearly every one of these A-list actors turns in a woefully forgettable performance. The sole exception is Winslet as Irina Vlaslov, a Russian mob boss who holds the team’s feet to the fire. Even with limited screen time, she leaves a distinct impression by applying subtle nuance to a character that could otherwise be painted in broad strokes.

Part of why these actors are squandered is the bloated script. Triple 9 attempts not just to follow the paths of the five robbers but also a pair of police officers on the right side of the law. All of these story lines are given equal weight, resulting in a film that has to make serious sacrifices in order to fit a two-hour run time. We’re not given enough time to get a proper read on any of the major players to this story or properly believe the relationships they form with one another. This leaves behind an otherwise standard cops & robbers drama, occasionally painted with personal perspectives. In an ambitious undertaking to tell many unique stories, Triple 9 fails to tell even one.

It’s a shame, because moments of Triple 9 come off as startlingly beautiful. A perfectly executed robbery opens the film and produces chills through sharp coordination between the camera, actors, and score. Bullets whiz by in a realistic gang firefight, brewing a palpable tension that rivals the best cop thrillers of the past decade. Dread and anxiety rule over quiet meetings. Bold colors give an unsettling glamour to grim Atlanta streets. When Triple 9 is good, it’s excellent. But those moments are few and far between.

Follow Chris Berg on Twitter, @ChrisBerg25