American Gangster

Written at the time of the film's release...

"That's What's Wrong with America. You can't Find the Heart of Anything to Stick the Knife In"

American Gangster tells the story of Frank Lucas, who, for a time in the 60's and 70's, ran the most successful narcotics operation in Harlem. The film is based on a "New York" magazine article from an interview with the real-life Lucas, so it must be based on fact, right?*

Ridley Scott's played fast and loose with facts before (1492, Black Hawk Down), so one should take the credit "Based on a True Story" with a kilo of salt (or a pound of cocaine). 

 

But, that aside, how is the movie?

It tells the parallel stories of Lucas' rise in power on the Harlem streets by "cutting out the middle-man" smuggling in raw opium from Thailand, and manufacturing a concoction called "Blue Magic" that had twice the potency, but at half the cost, with the story of the cop who eventually busted him, a down on his luck detective named Richie Roberts who's too honest to be trusted by the New York Police. 

While Lucas starts to make his version of the American Dream, Roberts continually has his legs knocked out from under him--his wife leaves him, takes his kid, he struggles with classes to better himself (public speaking, law), his partner turns junkie, and implicates him in a murder. The movie drips with irony at every turn, constantly showing the easy path of Crime and the tough road of Law Enforcement, that recalls that epitome of the thesis—"The French Connection."**

In a montage of Thanksgiving, Lucas is shown with his entire family at a stereotypical Thanksgiving spread (and in one of the more heavy-handed of Scott's directorial choices frames it like Norman Rockwell's "Freedom from Want" painting, while Roberts, makes a cold sandwich of canned turkey-spread and potato chips over the kitchen sink. But then the director re-ups it by showing junkies shooting up between their toes in grimy bathrooms, and a mother passed out in bed, while her child is screaming in the room. Whatever glamour Lucas may enjoy, Scott is particular about showing the cost in human misery. No one gets off "Scott"-free.

Washington takes aim at a rival...

...and it's Idris Elba!
Sometimes the tables are turned. Lucas occasionally has troubles in the operation, and however much he may espouse core-values of honesty and integrity, the very nature of his business starts to rot his dreams for his family. And the more Roberts investigates, the closer he comes to his target, the more his team of "Untouchables" gel, and his investigation and life begin to come into focus.

Ridley Scott misses as much as he hits. For every good film (The Duellists, Alien, Black Hawk Down, Thelma and Louise), there is a terrible one (Legend, 1492, Someone To Watch Over Me, G.I. Jane, Hannibal, A Good Year), and some that have just enough quality in them (Blade Runner, Gladiator, Matchstick Men) that his directorial brio can compensate for weaknesses and messy scripts. But here, he has a cracker-jack script by Steve Zaillian, no worries about creating "a world" out of whole cloth, and a stunning cast that includes Clarence Williams III (uncredited), Joe Morton, Armand Assante, Josh Brolin, Cuba Gooding, Jr., the magnificent Ruby Dee, Ted Levine, Roger Bart, Carla Gugino, Chiwetel Ejiofor, and top-lined by Russell Crowe, but especially Denzel Washington. When these two heavy-weights get together, their scenes crackle with invention. Everybody does incredibly lived-in work.

And nobody less than the director. This is Ridley Scott's best film in ages. At times the details get a bit murky, but Scott does so to keep a multi-faceted story moving at a brisk pace. And he pulls off some amazing little camera tricks that stun, and some of the most unpretentious action-sequences put to film. Those action sequences are rough stuff--the film begins with the immolation and point-blank gun-down of a mob rival--and the junkie sequences are harrowing, so one should be warned. But missing it would be missing a great film.

* Merely a casual glance at the internet will disprove a lot of myth from fact. Lucas did not work for crime boss "Bumpy" Johnson for 15 years, but five (he's been in prison before), he was not with him when he died, did not marry "Miss Puerto Rico," or own "Small's" nightclub. And that's just the start for Lucas. The real Roberts is a bit miffed that to attract Crowe, they beefed up his part by making him more of a loser. Lucas admits that the film is "about 20% true."

 

** The names "Eddie Egan" and "Sonny Grosso" are invoked early on, and Crowe's Roberts employs a foot-chase under the "El" that figured so prominently in the movie.

Zack Snyder's Justice League

Zack Snyder's Justice League (Zack Snyder, 2021) Buying the DVD of Zack Snyder's Justice League—his sanctioned "taking-back" of the Warner Brothers "studio-notes" theater version—cost as much as two months of HBOMax, and I must say, in comparison, it was a bargain. I have been reluctant to be swayed into buying into streaming services, maintaining that theaters will come back, and there are very few enticements for having them take money out of my accounts month after month, when the economic model necessitates other means of seeing them.

 

So...(I hear you ask) "is it better?" Yup. And by a wide margin. My initial review of the theatrical version of Justice League was somewhat laudatory—more concerned with knee-jerk backlash towards it—but, in seeing it again a couple times one could see the pacing issues, grating inconsistencies of tone, a certain desperation in the product to compress the content gracelessly and be winsomely attractive. "The Snyder Cut" takes more chances and takes a lot more time doing it. The Warner mandate to cut Snyder's intended two-part 4 1/2 hour opus into a single 2 hour film must have seemed an impossible feat to accomplish (and one must give kudo's to Joss Whedon for even attempting it and managing to meet their specs despite the ham-fisted result), especially when the evidence shows just how much of Snyder's film wasn't in the theatrical version (which we'll simply call "Josstice League"). The story is basically the same, but, good Lord, there are whole completely different versions of scenes throughout the thing, with nary a line repeated. There are bits and pieces in the story-line—the first Earth-war with Apokolips, the Gordon scenes, the confrontation at the "Superman memorial"—but for the most part the shot choices and dialogue are unique to this version. There are far fewer "oh, yeah..." moments than "that's new" moments. And, for me, there weren't any "I miss that" moments...at all.

The length is daunting, which is why I think it was never, ever intended to be one film (that and Snyder has a tendency to make super-hero films that are already prepping for sequels). Still, the overall experience of watching it feels much more organic than the cropped mess of the "Josstice League." Segments progress naturally—they "feel" right. And more importantly, the big action set-pieces—like the fight under the Gotham harbor—finally "work" in how they're shot and edited in sequence—they have geography and you see how things are playing out among all parties and how the stakes rise and fall as they intensify.

What's more, the film hinges on the characters given short-shrift in "Josstice League"—those being Jason Momoa's Aquaman, Ezra Miller's Flash, and especially Ray Fisher's Cyborg. Sure, there's plenty of scenes with Gal Gadot's Wonder Woman and a lot more with the Amazon's, a couple of tid-bits with Ben Affleck's Batman (with even more taken out), less haggling among the heroes, more of Alfred (Jeremy Irons), more of Joe Morton's Silas Stone and his co-hort at StarLabs, Ryan Choi (Ryan Zheng)—these are all improvements utilizing good actors—and you get representations from Jack Kirby's gallery of "Fourth World" villains (most prominently, Kirby's "Big Bad Guy" Darkseid), and a considerable "Steppenwolf" upgrade.

It's the three heroes-in-hiding from Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice, that get a lot more coverage and a bit more respect. Momoa's Aquaman has a lot more scenes with Mera (Amber Heard) and now, also Vulko (Willem Dafoe) and there's a bit of a continuity gaff in that here, nobody can talk underwater as in the Aquaman stand-alone film (they have to make air-bubbles to communicate). The Flash is given more background including a rescue of young Iris West (Kiersey Clemons) and the character's annoying geeking is toned down substantially and slightly matured. But, it's the story of Victor Stone/Cyborg that is the most expanded and the most from which the film benefits. Fisher is given much more chance to shine as he goes from bitter accident victim to reluctant super-paraplegic to confident team member.

But, it's not all roses. This version is rated "R" for a reason. There are a couple of prominent "f"-bombs* that may be earned but won't impress the parents of young superhero fans. And the level of carnage is greater with prominent blood spatters (that would have been digitally removed for theaters) and the final disposition of Steppenwolf by Wonder Woman (she is an sword-wielding Amazon, after all) that is far more MPAA-adverse than just letting the bad guy be dispatched by his own minions off-screen. Edgier, but not the way parents, censors (or even the Comics Code Authority) would like. One is always aware that in the movie-world, the film creators are always less concerned with body-counts than the comics-heroes (as dictated in the comics by parental watch-groups) would be.

This prompts the question for whom film-makers are making movies, even though, in this special case, Snyder has had the supported mandate to please himself. With the content far more unconstrained than the behavior displayed in the four-color versions, are they making it for themselves, for the fans, or for the studio? One would say the first, less the second, with the third being the cranky arbitrator between the two. Snyder makes them for himself—what he'd like to see—and for that imagined film audience that wants more realistic, mature versions of childhood heroes (ala the Christopher Nolan model—Nolan is still the exec. producer of this one)** It's interesting to think about, given the many hands involved.

So, I was pleased with what I saw, tarnished slightly by the fact that I'd seen a bastardized version before.*** But, what a difference it does make to have a singular vision, whatever issues one might have with it, rather than an elephant made by committee. In a subtle way the film makes that point, and one hopes that Warner learns it, and that Marvel takes the lesson as a cautionary tale.

 

* One was deliberately added by Snyder in his "new footage" shot for the Snyder version. If he doesn't have to fight over it with the studio, I suppose he said "why the fuck not?" So, Batman says it. And Cyborg says the other one at the height of his bitterness.

** Nolan has been working exclusively with Warner for almost two decades, but the recent rifts over the super-hero movies he and his wife have shepherded there (and the studio's insistence on simultaneous streaming) have had a consequence—Nolan's next film (involving J. Robert Oppenheimer) is being made with Universal. Warner wasn't even being negotiated with.

*** One curiosity I had was the way the theatrical version photographed Gadot's Wonder Woman—it's more sexualized, seeming to concentrate on her posterior than apparent when Snyder and director Patty Jenkins called the shots. And, yes, Snyder had no such prurience in his cut.

Batman gets Frank Miller's goofy Bat-tank.