"I wish these people die in Hell. I hope they're all in the same streetcar, and it blows up," filmmaker Abel Ferrara was quoted as saying at the 2008 Cannes Film Festival with regards to the rumored Werner Herzog-Nicolas Cage remake of 1992's notorious "Bad Lieutenant." (Herzog's priceless reaction one month later? "I have no idea who [Ferrara] is.") Now that the finished product is finally in theaters, though, it's unclear what Ferrara actually thinks of "Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans." Truthfully, when the two films don't share characters, settings, or even plots, what's more of a mystery is why it's even called "Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans."

On vacation from his day job as action-flick whore, Cage stars as Crescent City cop Terrence McDonagh, who is neither bad nor a lieutenant when we first meet him as he taunts, then rescues an inmate up to his neck in Hurricane Katrina. His heroism earns him both a promotion and a spinal injury, the latter leading to a drug dependency that sends him down the proverbial rabbit hole. "Whatever I take's prescription... except for the heroin," McDonagh says, perhaps forgetting about the marijuana and the blow. His equally strung-out prostitute girlfriend (Eva Mendes) doesn't seem to mind his habits, but McDonagh's wanton substance abuse is clearly interfering with his first big case, the execution-style murders of Senegalese immigrants that leads to drug kingpin Big Fate (Alvin Joiner, better known as Xzibit).

Like its inspiration, "Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans" essentially observes as an increasingly desperate man waltzes with his demons, couching his potential redemption in justice for those he had sworn to serve and protect. The allure of this is plain: sure, we like seeing criminals get their comeuppance, but we cannot resist the sick kick of a trainwreck, the vicarious thrill of watching someone do every deplorable thing we're too smart/chicken to even try. And few performers unleash their id with more confident abandon than Cage, whose artistic choices often make you forget that he has an Oscar.

While Harvey Keitel's NC-17 bad lieutenant was probably badder (and definitely naked-er), Cage is more, well, fun as he lurches around the Big Easy under the influence, at one point in his downward spiral randomly sounding like a cross between Marlon Brando and Ed Sullivan. Of course it helps when your director is as indulgent as you are. Nearly 50 years into his filmmaking career, Herzog might be the last of the true mavericks, a stubborn, prickly auteur whose late-career shapeshifting has been entertaining to behold. But coming off the straightforward Antarctica documentary "Encounters at the End of the World" may have left Herzog jonesing for a little abstraction; how else to explain two hallucinatory iguanas and one breakdancing soul?

Standouts from the stellar supporting cast include Brad Dourif (Doc from "Deadwood") as a patient bookie, "Revolutionary Road" Oscar nominee Michael Shannon, as well as a nearly unrecognizable Jennifer Coolidge, coming a long way from playing Stifler's mom to establish herself as one of our most versatile character actors. I haven't even mentioned that Val Kilmer co-stars as Cage's partner, so in case you're the type to skip to the end of a review, all you really need to know is that when Val Kilmer is the subtle one in a movie, then the filmmaker might be doing something wrong. Or maybe I mean right.