Movie review: American Gangster

by John P. Meyer

Derivative? You bet. So thank God Denzel delivers.

Ridley Scott just hates to make a movie without Russell Crowe in the lead (Gladiator, A Good Year, the forthcoming Body of Lies) - almost as much as his brother Tony hates to make one without star Denzel Washington (Crimson Tide, Man On Fire, Deja Vu).

As for Mr. Washington, he had signed on in 2004 for the originally-planned production of American Gangster when Antoine Fuqua was set to direct and Benicio Del Toro was slated to fill Crowe's heavily-squeezed shoes in the role of detective Richie Roberts. Under the terms of their contracts, both Denzel and Benicio scored their salaries for that aborted iteration of the production when Universal canceled the shoot citing budgetary concerns. This is what Hollywood calls a "pay or play" deal, struck with the understanding that the stars blocked out their valuable time for the project (turning down other jobs in the process) and are thus deserving of their pay whether they act or not. In Denzel's case, this amounted to $20 million; he received an additional salary of $20 million for the Ridley Scott production that actually got made, coming away with (if I'm doing my math correctly... carry the eight...) $40 extra-large for his multi-year association with the script.

(After consulting heavily with the real Frank Lucas during preparation for filming, Denzel bestowed upon the ex-gangster ex-con a new Rolls Royce as a sign of his gratitude. Who says crime doesn't pay?)

So, the question begs to be asked: does Denzel earn his $40 million?

Sheesh - that's kind of like asking whether Tony Romo deserves $67 million over the term of his recently-signed six-year contract. In both cases it's about image and persona in addition to talent and performance. Intangibles aside, however, my answer to the Denzel question would be an unhesitating "yes."

In fact, without Denzel's commanding presence there's no telling what kind of vibe this Oscar-fabricating engine might have generated. The story, while based on a unique set of "true events," composites a slew of cinematic antecedents to include The Godfather, Superfly, Scarface, Serpico and The Untouchables - and this list springs spontaneously from the imaginus mundi without resort to reference materials.

Denzel plays Frank Lucas, who emerged from the late-60's/early 70's Harlem street crime scene to become one of the highest-volume (and wealthiest) drug enterprisers in modern history. He succeeded in this undertaking (at least initially) by adhering to an ethos that demanded honesty, integrity and family loyalty in a business that preyed upon the weaknesses and vulnerabilities of his 116th Street customer base. Another key element to Lucas' extended success was his insistence on keeping a low profile; one of the few times he diverged from this self-imposed restriction (at least, according to the movie version) was when he wore a chinchilla hat and coat to ringside seats at a Muhammad Ali boxing match, thereby attracting the attention of Pentax-wielding anti-drug task force investigator Richie Roberts.

Mr. Roberts - as played by Mr. Crowe - gumshoes the other side of Frank Lucas' street with similar ethical shadings: he's a cop who refuses to play by standard cop-of-the-day rules. In other words, he's honest beyond all practicality. When Richie and his partner stumble upon a car trunk filled with almost a million bucks cash, Richie insists on turning the money in instead of keeping it (or at least a part of it) - thereby marking himself (and his reluctantly-cooperative partner) as "untrustworthy" cops (i.e., cops who might potentially squeal on fellow cops on the take). Thus - Serpico-like - when tight situations come up on patrol that demand backup from fellow officers, Richie receives replies to his radio pleas to the effect that "there are no units available in your area." Right.

Having learned much from his old boss Bumpy Johnson, Frank Lucas sees an opportunity for greatness spread before him in the power vacuum that follows Bumpy's death. While most of the local players (such as the self-indulgent and insensitive Tango, played by Idris Elba) are content to skim the low-fat milk derived from Bumpy's mob-based drug connection, Frank decides to bypass the middle men (and the drug cutters) by dealing directly with the source. He solicits the help of his brother-in-law, operator of a nightclub in Bangkok where war-weary Vietnam-assigned G.I.s spend their R&R indulging in both fleshly and phantasmagoric delights. Not content to buy from substance adulteraters even this close to the source, Frank treks to the hinterland font where growers milk poppies to manufacture the raw white powder worth more per gram than gold.

Frank's journey into the jungle forges a metaphor for the level of personal sacrifice he's willing to endure in order to achieve success (think Heart of Darkness by way of Apocalypse Now). As he demands complete commitment on his own part, so he expects it of his associates and family members. It should come as no surprise that Frank is a stern disciplinarian when it comes to those who fail to live up to his standards: God help them (because Frank won't).

What transpires over the course of the movie's 2 1/2-hour run-time is a mostly-fascinating case study in power corrupting, as Frank slides into the trap of believing in his own invulnerability and the absolute trustworthiness of his lieutenants (the ranks of which are composed primarily of blood relations). Set in counterpoint are the exploits of detective Richie Roberts as he and his elite task force of offbeat incorruptible cops struggle to finger the source of the insidious "blue magic" heroin product, sold on the streets for the same price as regular H but many times more potent (because it's pure).

While Detective Roberts' detecting activities are indeed compelling and appropriate subject matter, the filmmakers' efforts to flesh out his private life (involving the de rigeur troubled marriage and strained attempts to maintain parental rights to his young son) extend perhaps beyond the realm of advisability. It's almost as if scripter Steven Zaillian were straining to proffer equal narrative weight to the Crowe character when the play is clearly more about the Washington one. (After all, it's not called "American Gangster and the Incorruptible Cop Who Brings Him Down.")

For his part, Crowe underplays the role of a socially-inept street cop who insists on doing the right thing even when it might be wrong in terms of his (and his family's) continued well being. He (Crowe) dissolves into Richie Roberts until we almost forget there's a movie star involved in the transaction. Which is the best outcome that could have been expected.

Numerous supporting players add welcome a depth to the undertaking, including the beautiful Lymari Nadal (as Frank's Puerto Rican wife, Eva); Ruby Dee as Frank's loving (and conveniently un-inquisitive) mom; Armand Assante as cosmopolitan mob boss Dominic Cattano; and - perhaps most effectively - Josh Brolin as the slimy, despicable and ruthless NYC Detective Trupo, whose corruption and sense of self-entitlement recognize no moral or ethical boundaries.

While there are plenty of on-screen reminders that drugs are a dirty and deplorable business - and that Frank himself is in essence a flawed and violent man - it is difficult to think of him (in terms of this portrayal) as evil. As Frank himself points out to Roberts over the course of Frank's post-arrest interview, he was simply fulfilling a role that would be taken up by someone (given social realities and the demand for the illegal substance), and doing so in an organized and unobtrusive way. Forget the fact that the potency of his product led to the overdose deaths of scores who were not expecting it; and that he smuggled in his powder hidden inside caskets occupied by the bodies of soldiers returning from Vietnam. (Go ahead and forget it. I dare you.) As typical in these urban Robin Hood anti-establishment tales, there are plenty of gray moral shadings to go around.

The action is accompanied by a sly and sinister score courtesy of Marc Streitenfeld and peppered with the music of the times.

MOST MEMORABLE SCENE: Frank's object lesson to his brothers, delivered over lunch with a Browning High-Nine.

IT'S GOOD TO BE SANTA: "They look at me like it's Christmas, and I'm Santa Claus." - Frank to Eva, re. mafia boss Dominic Cattano and his wife

WANNA BUY A POWER VACUUM?: "Forget it, Frank - there's no one in charge." - Bumpy Johnson's dying words to Frank, delivered in the impersonal confines of a discount electronics store

WORDS TO THE WISE FROM A WISE GUY: "We can be successful and have enemies - or unsuccessful and have friends." - Dominic Cattano to Frank