Blood Work's hook is so tasty that, for a half-hour or so, one barely notices how limp the film hanging on it is. Clint Eastwood--also directing--plays aging ex-FBI agent McCaleb. He receives a transplanted ticker after having a heart attack tracking down a generic serial menace whose eventual identity will not surprise you. A hottie (Wanda De Jesús) asks McCaleb to investigate her sister's death. He can't resist, as it's the dead sister's heart that's keeping him alive. The second-hand organ isn't milked for eeriness or ethical conundrums--it just gives McCaleb A Job to Do. Eastwood eschews the mythic tone of Unforgiven for the hard-guy minimalism of his auteurial mentor, Don Siegel (Dirty Harry). The result is an inert exercise in policier classicism, entirely reliant on its star's iconic power to negate the idea that anything at all has happened in the last 30 years of cop-movie history.