“Outcome” is about a 56-year old, two-time Oscar-winning action star named Reef Hawk (Keanu Reeves) who’s been a celebrity ever since he danced and sang on “The Tonight Show” back when Johnny Carson was the host, and has the personal baggage to prove it. When we first meet him, he’s been out of the spotlight and off the screen for five years, trying to put his addictions behind him. Heroin, cocaine, alcohol; you name it, Reef did it every day and twice on Sunday. He’s secure about his recovery and poised to start his acting comeback when he learns that a stranger has a video of him that he refuses to describe in detail, but guarantees is a career-ender, and will release it unless Reef pays him $15 million.

Directed and co-written by Jonah Hill, who co-stars as Reef’s obnoxious “crisis lawyer” Ira Slitz, “Outcome” is a comedy, a drama, and a character study. It is also, in theory, a satire about show business, social media, and the major and minor hazards of stardom, topics done to death by other movies as well as some classic TV series set in the tonier parts of Los Angeles. It alternates “Hollywood is a mecca for narcissists” scenes, which are seemingly intended as outrageous and hilarious but aren’t, and understated, moving scenes where Reef visits someone to whom he owes an apology and listens as they tell him how he hurt them.

The near-incompatibility between the film’s two main types of scenes creates tonal whiplash. And it prevents ”Outcome” from accumulating the quietly devastating power that it should have when Reef finally watches the tape – a power that is plainly within the movie’s grasp, given the generally high quality of the crew and cast, and a script (cowritten with Ezra Woods) that sensitively presents addiction and rehab and gives all of its principal actors at least one scene that lets them show what they can do when they’re cast against type. 

It’s in these “showpiece” scenes that “Outcome” nails a specific and possibly unique vibe. Perhaps not coincidentally, these are often scenes that don’t have a score telling you how to feel, and make do with environmental sound or perhaps a song issuing softly from speakers somewhere in the room. Reeves, whose “John Wick” series cast him as a lethal nomad who rarely spoke, has become a deeper, simpler, more resonant actor as he’s aged. He’s the perfect person to play a man who’s on a spiritual and moral journey that’s mainly internal and nonverbal. His silent reactions are so eloquent that words would be superfluous. 

Cameron Diaz and Matt Bomer, seasoned actors who seem to be having a lot more fun now that they don’t have to be the lead, are believably glib yet raw as childhood friends who have been Reef’s two-person entourage and support system since high school. Susan Lucci has a firecracker of a scene as Reef’s mom, Dinah, an influencer and reality show star who demands her son say whatever it is he has to say on the set of her streaming talk show while cameras roll. 

Welker White, the babysitter-drug mule in “Goodfellas” who wouldn’t fly without her lucky hat, has a heartbreaking scene as an ex-girlfriend of Reef’s who now realises how awful he was to her, and has concluded that the five years she spent with him were time wasted. Speaking of “Goodfellas”: Martin Scorsese has two scenes in this movie as Reef’s first manager, Red Rodriguez, a small-timer whose day job was owning and managing a bowling alley (and still is). Scorsese’s acting is so thoughtful, exact, easygoing, and confident that he not only rises to the level of his most accomplished costars but should be considered the main reason to see “Outcome.” It’s right up there with his chilling performance as the president of Geritol in “Quiz Show” and his one scene as the bigoted, homicidal psycho in “Taxi Driver.”

Unfortunately, every few minutes, Hill will cut from a lovely scene of emotionally injured people being vulnerable to Ira strutting around an office or conference room at his law firm, shouting digressive, abrasive nonsense at employees and colleagues while the background music tries to trick you into finding it all harmlessly kooky rather than loathsome. That Hill the director often lets Hill the actor hijack the movie makes the experience even more dispiriting. Still, there’s no denying Hill’s instinct for identifying the heart of a dramatic scene and turning the volume of the storytelling down low enough for us to hear it beating.