Film Noir - I am beginning to suspect that this term is alienating casual moviegoers who think this is an artsy-fartsy term for some type of (grit your teeth!) art film. This is the only way I can accept the lukewarm box office numbers for L.A.Confidential, easily one of the best pictures of the year. Well, folks, that four-letter French word just means "dark," and, whatever its origins, film noir is a most American form of movie. Humphrey Bogart in "Maltese Falcon," Robert Mitchum in "Night of the Hunter," Orson Welles in "Touch of Evil," Jack Nicholson in "Chinatown".. have I got any takers yet? The darkness is the menace, or evil that threatens to overtake our protagonists, who frequently have a darkness all their own to justify their plight. Coupled with many dark night scenes, such movies portray seamy lives, on the edge. The main character is usually a private detective or criminal, but the heavy drama works just as well for cops, and so it is in L.A. Confidential.
The movie takes place a very movie-style Los Angeles, when the initials LA still had the periods for punctuation. The LA cops in this post-war, pre-Miranda world were not corrupted by money, but they had little use for civil rights. As the film opens, crime boss Mickey Cohen is being sent up for the same tax dodge that nailed Capone. This creates a vacuum in the underworld leadership, and hoods are getting bumped off regularly. Squads of LAPD muscle intercept any new gangsters, beat them up, and send them back East. Our story swirls around four policemen.
Captain Dudley Smith (James Cromwell) is father figure to three officers: Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey) loves the media attention from his technical adviser role on Dragnet, and his pot bust of Robert Mitchum. All his celebrity arrests are written up (and staged) by a sleazeball reporter played by Danny DeVito. Bud White (Russel Crowe, Virtuosity) is your basic thug with a badge. He only roughs up real criminals, so the captain appreciates his `adherence to violence as an adjunct to the job.' With 50 pounds less muscle, we have Ed Exley (Guy Pearce), a Dudley-Doright with wire-rimmed glasses. He's due for promotion to lieutenant, but Smith cautions him against his ambition to become a detective. "Are you willing to create evidence to convict a man you know is guilty? Will you give false testimony to put him away?" he asks. "If not, you haven't got what it takes for detective work, boy-o." Early on, Exley breaks the code of silence and testifies against White's partner, throwing him off the force. These two who had nothing in common now have a grudge. Exley survives the snub of his peers by displaying a political savvy that exceeds that of his admiring captain.
When a botched holdup leaves an all-night diner stacked with bodies, things get interesting. One of the victims was White's disgraced partner, and another was a high-class hooker he had encountered. Exley becomes a hero when he finds the suspects, gets their confessions, and, after they escape, hunts them down and wins the shootout. Even though he's accepted again, Exley has doubts about the whole case, and so does White, for different reasons. Vincennes finds his own tie-in, and the improbable trio independently do some digging. They all find puzzling resistance, but they keep their resolve by re-examining their motives for joining the force in the first place. The truth that comes out lays bare the corrupt underbelly of LA, much as Chinatown did.
Although L.A. Confidential doesn't borrow from that script, the cinematography owes it something. Many brilliant sunwashed scenes contrast not only with the night, but also to the dark reality that awaits. Director Curtis Hanson keeps things moving right along, and just when it promises to get heavy, he throws in a small mistaken identity scene to give everybody a good chuckle. Kevin Spacey is as smarmy and watchable as ever, being interesting without really stealing any scenes. James Cromwell was ready to quit acting a couple of years back, but Babe and First Contact have him back on the short list, and he delivers again here. Kim Basinger has one of her best roles, as a hooker with dubious connections to the investigation. The always-underappreciated David Strathairn plays her boss, running a stable of celebrity lookalike escorts. The breakout stars, however, are Australians Guy Pearce and Russel Crowe. Our unfamiliarity with them makes it easier to get involved in their plight, in a way we couldn't with, say, Tom Cruise and Bruce Willis. Both give compelling performances that should stick in your memory.
Another thing I should mention about film noir -- no computer graphics, no big explosions. The producers fall back on that old dodge of good actors and a good script. No wonder we don't see more film noir.
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