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October 3, 2007

One's Company

There are two fronts in my mind regarding Ridley Scott’s new film, American Gangster.  On one side, there is the side that is blown away by the work of a truly skilled filmmaker, some excellent actors – many of whom are wasted in tiny roles - a great story, and a 70s spirit of filmmaking that is a pleasure to see on the big screen in 2007.

On the other side, there is this movie about the Scarface/Godfather of Harlem in the 70s drug trade who kept a remarkable emotional distance from the dark side of his actions that would end up making him dangerous in ways that no one could imagine.  And then there is this white guy who ended up catching him, kind of.

The problem is not that I don’t like or admire American Gangster.  The problem for me is that one of the very best gangster epics of all time is sitting there, unfolding before our eyes… and suddenly we are stuck in the middle of Russell Crowe’s character’s custody fight.  And really, what the hell does that have to do with this American Gangster?  Not a whole hell of a lot.

Again, it’s not that the Russell Crowe sections aren’t well made or well acted.  I would argue that Crowe is better here than he is in 3:10 To Yuma.  But you can feel this massive imbalance in the storytelling every time we shift to him… the guy whose story really isn’t relevant to the evolution of the story.  And when we finally do find a turn that makes his presence more relevant, that section of the story is fast-forwarded through.

Perhaps in the earlier incarnation, with Antoine Fuqua directing and Benicio del Toro in the role of the cop chasing the Godfather, it felt more balanced.  For one thing, as a person of color, the parallels with Benicio might have felt more interesting and complex.  Perhaps more importantly, there would be much less of a compulsion to shift over to the cop’s story for significant portions of the film. 

It would be unfair to tar the whole film with the process of getting the picture financed by Universal.   But from the outside looking in, the film looks like a clear case of “we can’t make an $80 million-plus film with just Denzel Washington driving box office when with the exception of Déjà Vu, none of his films without a major white co-star have grossed over $137 million worldwide.”  The best case scenario within those boundaries is about $160 million in net revenue all in, with an $80 million budget and worldwide publicity of at least $70 million, it’s not a great bet.  But add Russell Crowe and… who knows?

And here is why all that business chatter means something to me…

Watching American Gangster, I feel like it should have been one of the great movies of the last decade.  Ridley Scott is in top form.  Denzel is mesmerizing.  The supporting characters are interesting and colorful, primarily Frank Lucas’ family.  That is where this becomes operatic, elegant, powerful, tragic. 

But it seems like every time the Frank Lucas story should be tense and uncomfortable and putting you right on the edge of your seat, we are cutting away to more adventures with good guy cop Richie Roberts, played by Crowe.  And again, it’s not like the material with Richie isn’t smart and compelling and good filmmaking.  It’s just not an important part of the epic opera that the Frank Lucas story offers.

It’s Harris Savides' first time out with Ridley Scott and the relationship’s a gold mine for both of them.  It’s Savides' second photographic masterwork this year, after making the precision of David Fincher’s Zodiac zing.  (If there is an Oscar nomination to come from that film, it should be for Savides.)  And he does pretty damned well by Noah Baumbach as well, with Margot At The Wedding.  It’s one of the great years for any cinematographer in movie history.

Arthur Max, the production designer, who has worked exclusively for Ridley Scott and David Fincher, does great work here, as does Art Director Nicholas Lundy and Set Decorators Sonja Klaus, Leslie E. Rollins, Beth A. Rubino. The 70s are flawless, but not calling attention to the style, as Zodiac did.  Also doing great work is Costume Designer Janty Yates.

People inhabit a movie universe and Scott got some of the best actors around to play them in support.  From frame one, we get Clarence Williams III as Bumpy Johnson… cool, smooth, and sweating dangerous power.  Ruby Dee is a powerhouse as Frank’s mother.  Armand Assante fronts the mafia with chaps and elbow patches in an unusually understated performance.  And one of my favorites, John Ortiz, sports some seriously funky hair and sideburns, but still makes you sweat every hyperactive moment with him. 

You also get the comeback player of the year, Josh Brolin.  Back in 1996, Brolin was loaded with promise in Flirting With Disaster… and then he got cast in a lot of mediocrity and its hard to tell whether a guy can act in a bunch of iffy movies.  Then, all of a sudden, he was amongst an acting A-Team in The Dead Girl last year, followed by this and No Country For Old Men… and a star is born.  Hell, he was even fun in Planet Terror!

And you get Cuba Gooding, Jr in a smaller than expected role as Nicky Barnes, a rival to Frank Lucas back in the day.  Interestingly, veteran documentarian Marc Levin has made an excellent documentary on Barnes – Mr. Untouchable - that is also due out at the end of this month from Magnolia.   And a lot of what Frank Lucas does in American Gangster, Nikki Barnes takes and is given credit for in the doc.  Moreover, when you start looking at the competing stories - Lucas profiled by New York Magazine and Barnes, a star for The New York Times – you can get a bit of whiplash trying to figure out which one did what.  For instance, in Mr. Untouchable, Barnes mentions Frank Lucas as a country bumpkin who spoke crudely and always sounded like a farmhand.  To the contrary, in American Gangster, Frank Lucas is consummately low-key and smooth and makes the mistake of wearing a fur once.  Both men are given credit for giving out turkeys at Thanksgiving, as Bumpy Johnson had before them. 

After seeing both films, if you see one, you should definitely see the other.  For myself, I expect to do a lot more research on the stories when I find some time.  Having two such outsized personalities on the same turf, one buying from the mob and the other selling to the mob, is fascinating.  And neither film really deals in any depth with the relationship to the opposite number. 

But I digress…

American Gangster is a classic tale of the American dream on drugs.  Like Scarface, Frank Lucas comes from nowhere, trains with the top man in the (poppy) field, and finds a way to do him one better.  What is so different about this story is that it’s not a story about a small man who is endlessly trying to make himself bigger.  Frank Lucas is a strong, thoughtful man.  His lives by his sense of his own honor.   He lovingly brings his family into his circle, never thinking of the danger that is always just around the corner.  It’s that kind of tale, writ large on the landscape of America’s drug culture. 

It’s just not the undeniable classic I felt throughout was trying to emerge.  And in some ways, that is more frustrating than a bad movie.  And in some ways, it is not.

E ME


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