Insurance investigator Grant Canyon has a distinctly impaired short-term memory. Maybe it’s all those punches to the head he takes for sassing back at interrogators—or maybe it’s his outlandish dirty-blonde toupee.

Writers Ryan Gladstone and Bruce Horak have a blast playing with the clichés of 1970s PI movies, and the convoluted plot grows ever more outlandish as Canyon tries to piece together his memories of drug cartels, stolen jewels, and missing kidneys.

The script is silly, the hero is outrageous (“Either I’ve had a girl in here or that mattress is gonna need counselling,” observes Canyon when he wakes up in a hotel room littered with condom wrappers), and the production polished. You’ll be singing Drew Jurecka’s two-note refrain of “Can-yon” all the way home.