It's difficult to discuss The D Train without revealing its central plot element: a sex scene, non-graphic but unflinching, that involves…no, I can't. (Hang on till, oh, this afternoon, by which time it'll be common knowledge.) It's not a scene that's been rigged up for showy exploitation—it triggers everything that follows, very little of which is what you might expect. The picture starts out as a sort of bro-com, but it soon creeps over to the dark side, where some fine performances and an array of implausibilities await.
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