Snow plays a gal who has come back to her old 'hood to show off her new boyfriend. Unfortunately, she arrives just as Texas and other Southern states decide to form their own sovereign nation and launch a siege of Brooklyn. She must then spend most of the movie trying to save herself and her loved ones. Luckily, she's assisted by Dave Bautista's tortured, former Marine medic, who knows how to whup ass and how to keep limbs from bleeding all over the place.
Bushwick really wants to be the Birdman (or Irreversible, if you prefer) of nihilistic action thrillers. It's a series of hysterical, obviously spliced long takes, which directors Jonathan Milott and Cary Murnion have attempted to assemble into a stream of batshit-crazy set pieces. They constantly drag the audience forward along with Snow and Bautista's characters, as men, women and dogs fall around them.
Unfortunately, as much as you might want to be impressed by its gritty, kamikaze visual ingenuity, Bushwick is a hollow, ultimately unsatisfying exercise in organized chaos. It's most effective trick turns out to be the haunted, understated performance of executive producer Bautista, yet another former WWE superstar who can rivet the hell out of you in a movie.