It doesn't sound too promising -- Woody Harrelson as a veteran of the LAPD who once shot a date rapist and now, years later, seems to be scapegoated by the division because of an unfolding scandal. Somebody has to go and Internal Affairs is out to see that somebody does.
It sounds like another LAPD shoot-'em-up with a bloodbath every ten minutes but it's not. No shots have been fired, and no explosions have occurred. There's not even a high speed pursuit by cars, planes, boats, trains, or bicycles.
Instead Harrelson, in a very nicely textured performance, his head stylishly shaved bald, is presented as a tough and embittered cop whose social life is a fetid swamp of pathos. He appears to have two wives (or girl friends or sisters) or maybe three. Each makes an occasional appearance in his life but he screws up the bond one way or another.
One of the ways is that he extorts over-the-counter leapers and sleepers from a pharmacist. Another way is that he seems to sip from a pint of booze as he drives around the city alone in his black-and-white. He makes absurd demands of people and when they don't play his game he becomes furious.
All of the performances are good, particularly those whose relationship with Harrelson is ambivalent, and who find themselves trapped in an approach/avoidance conflict.
But Harrelson, hung over, sweaty, falling down drunk, could probably carry the film by himself.
He's given a great deal of help by the director Oren Moverman who lends the images a slightly arty effect, sometimes a little too arty. Woody drives in despair through the night and the camera gives us a nice close up of his ear, silhouetted by the headlights of the cars behind him. Oh, yes -- his left ear. But at other time he trusts the viewer enough to figure out what's happening off screen. The location shooting is fine too, capturing the shimmering heat of Los Angeles' streets, the sunshine and smog.
There is no redemption at the end, either, and I kind of liked that. It's a good evocation of despair. The screenplay originated with James Ellroy, whose values you may or may not like. I don't. He's said in interviews that the police should be given free rein on the streets and not interfered with by the suits. His sympathies probably lay with this Dirty Harry character rather than with the division's attempt to clean itself up.
It sounds like another LAPD shoot-'em-up with a bloodbath every ten minutes but it's not. No shots have been fired, and no explosions have occurred. There's not even a high speed pursuit by cars, planes, boats, trains, or bicycles.
Instead Harrelson, in a very nicely textured performance, his head stylishly shaved bald, is presented as a tough and embittered cop whose social life is a fetid swamp of pathos. He appears to have two wives (or girl friends or sisters) or maybe three. Each makes an occasional appearance in his life but he screws up the bond one way or another.
One of the ways is that he extorts over-the-counter leapers and sleepers from a pharmacist. Another way is that he seems to sip from a pint of booze as he drives around the city alone in his black-and-white. He makes absurd demands of people and when they don't play his game he becomes furious.
All of the performances are good, particularly those whose relationship with Harrelson is ambivalent, and who find themselves trapped in an approach/avoidance conflict.
But Harrelson, hung over, sweaty, falling down drunk, could probably carry the film by himself.
He's given a great deal of help by the director Oren Moverman who lends the images a slightly arty effect, sometimes a little too arty. Woody drives in despair through the night and the camera gives us a nice close up of his ear, silhouetted by the headlights of the cars behind him. Oh, yes -- his left ear. But at other time he trusts the viewer enough to figure out what's happening off screen. The location shooting is fine too, capturing the shimmering heat of Los Angeles' streets, the sunshine and smog.
There is no redemption at the end, either, and I kind of liked that. It's a good evocation of despair. The screenplay originated with James Ellroy, whose values you may or may not like. I don't. He's said in interviews that the police should be given free rein on the streets and not interfered with by the suits. His sympathies probably lay with this Dirty Harry character rather than with the division's attempt to clean itself up.