In "Pain Hustlers," director David Yates endeavors to present a riveting take on the opioid crisis through the lens of Liza Drake (Emily Blunt). Liza is a resilient single mother whose marketing strategies inadvertently initiate a devastating epidemic. Through a blend of quasi-documentary elements and lavish party sequences, Yates hopes to merge the vibes of “Erin Brockovich” and “The Wolf of Wall Street." Yet, the film hesitates, not fully embracing either path.

Opening in a dramatized black-and-white documentary style, the audience meets Pete Brenner (Chris Evans), expressing his shock over Liza's apparent betrayal. She's painted as an enigma, a mother with limited formal education who upends an empire. As the narrative unfolds, we discover Liza struggling in her sister's basement, managing her daughter Phoebe's (Chloe Coleman) health issues while moonlighting as a dancer.

Wells Tower's screenplay underscores Liza's desperation. Phoebe's dire health conditions and their eviction amplify the urgency. Liza's fortunes change when Pete, captivated by her tenacity, offers her a job at a startup helmed by Jack Neel (Andy Garcia). Their product? Fentanyl. Marketed as a non-addictive painkiller superior to existing treatments, its potential is hindered by rival pharmaceuticals.

It's Blunt's portrayal of Liza that emerges as the film's highlight. She's caught in a complex web: personally driven by her daughter's health and professionally navigating the ethics of her job. Yet, creative missteps, like sporadic voiceovers and freeze frames, hamper her performance. Her character's arc, albeit a bit simplistic, sees her maneuvering doctors to prescribe fentanyl, reaping rewards both for her and the company. Liza's rise, fueled by a belief in her work, is evident as she upgrades her life and even employs her mother.

The supporting cast, however, falters. Chris Evans, previously celebrated for his nuanced roles, feels redundant and underused as Pete. Similarly, Garcia's character remains underdeveloped, while O’Hara seems trapped in a thankless role. The ensemble's synergy is noticeably absent.

Visually, the film struggles. Yates' attempt at portraying hedonistic montages of excess lacks the finesse seen in Scorsese's work. Instead of reflecting the tantalizing allure of wealth, the scenes appear forced and contrived.

Yet, "Pain Hustlers" has moments of genuine emotional resonance. Scenes capturing the harrowing consequences of addiction and its victims resonate deeply, showcasing the film's potential for genuine empathy. Regrettably, these moments are too few. Yates appears torn between condemning the startup's ethics and being entranced by its extravagance.