Showing posts with label police genre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label police genre. Show all posts

Friday, August 31, 2012

Dirty Harry (1971)

Forty years on “Dirty Harry” still packs a massive sucker punch with Clint Eastwood as Det. Harry Callahan tearing through San Francisco hunting down a serial killer named Scorpio, a bloody rip-off of the infamous real-life Zodiac killer. I can’t imagine the wake this film made when it landed, focusing on a policeman who shoots first, despises authority, and proudly stands as an equal opportunity offender. Yet, with Zodiac never caught, it must have served as cathartic fantasy. It still does. Directed by Don Siegel, the film’s anger at failed authorities, red tape laws that coddle criminals, and crime itself sure as hell resonates now. Every police thriller since has cribbed, stolen, and downloaded the attitude and violence of “Harry,” and every guy has at some point recited Eastwood’s “punk” speech as he stares down killers, bosses, the camera, and the audience alike. It’s one of the seminal performances of film, a modern day Western, with a sheriff who tosses his badge to lay down the law. Also classic: A rocket fast pace, an absolute refusal to show any story outside of the hero’s work, and a seriously frightening villain (Andy Robinson) with no motive other than to kill. A+

Thursday, November 24, 2011

The Other Guys (2010)

In every testosterone-filled cops and their partners flick, there’s always the barely in-focus fellow detectives, no name extras taking up space. No one cares if they die by gunfire. Unlikely partners in every way (casting, too) Will Ferrell and Mark Wahlberg are those men, one a paperwork nerd, the other a hot-headed dunce, in “The Other Guys.” When the cliché super cop heroes – played hilariously by Samuel L. Jackson and Dwayne Johnson – die not pulling off a stunt every movie cop pulls off, our “Guys” enter the fray. In a red Prius. Director/co-writer Adam McKay gleefully throws one of those impossible-to-follow coincidence plots at us as a greedy Wall Street tycoon (Steve Coogan) runs amok. Explosions and car chases abound, all sickly ridiculous, and yet not out of place in any “Lethal Weapon” movie. McKay ridicules mega-masculinity, the hot wife syndrome in every guy flick, and the economy. The bad guys get a bailout. Talk about realism. Ferrell is genius uncorking rage, and Wahlberg is a good straight man, although clearly uncomfortable yelling “I’m a peacock!” Still, great laughs. B+