It's not just that the movie appears to find Greene far more charming than he was in Porrello's book. It's that Kill the Irishman never brings either freshness or energy to its tale. In the end, even the many explosions seem tired.
The setting lacks the gritty feel of the mean streets of New York, Jersey or even Boston mob movies. It is, after all, Cleveland. The story, which gets bogged down in detail, often feels predictable and lacks spark.
The problem is that writer-director Jonathan Hensleigh doesn't do much beyond filling in the template; he's telling the specific, true-life tale of mob decline in 1970s Cleveland, but every character and setpiece feels like it fell off a truck.