In 2005, Steven Spielberg was in somewhat of a funk. It had been 7 years since
Saving Private Ryan, and in the meantime he was in a popcorn picture phase. He finished the Kubrick project (
A.I.), worked with Tom Cruise twice (
Minority Report and
War of the Worlds), got by with
The Terminal, and in the middle made a little gem called
Catch Me If You Can. But where was another “important Spielberg” film? Enter
Munich. The exhilarating true story of globetrotting Israel-backed assassin assassins looked like it was lifted out of the mid-70s and proved that Spielberg still cared.
Until March, David Fincher was a director known for creeping out audiences in contemporary settings with the help of Brad Pitt. Then he released
Zodiac, a meticulous and thoroughly engaging chronicle of the San Francisco citizens obsessively affected by the mysterious titular killer. The Vietnam-era period piece, arguably the best film of the year so far, is his strongest to date and broadened Fincher’s credibility beyond merely a shock director.
And then there’s Ridley Scott. Easily mistaken for a technical action director like his brother Tony, he too had an interesting start to the 2000s. After his magnum opus
Gladiator came the disgusting, awful
Hannibal and the so-so
Black Hawk Down. Next was the refreshing change of pace
Matchstick Men, the visually stunning but poorly timed
Kingdom of Heaven (
The Lord of the Rings already had those battle scenes), and
A Good Year, a film where few knew what he and Russell Crowe were thinking. But then he signed on to make a project that had been in developmental purgatory for nearly a decade, called
American Gangster.
As with the above talented directors, Sir Ridley’s career has received a spark courtesy of the appealing grit and glory of the 1970s.
Gangster, featuring the long anticipated second teaming of Crowe and Denzel Washington, is not Scott’s ultimate work, but like Spielberg with
Munich, it is tantalizing evidence that a top filmmaker can still enthrall audiences on multiple levels.
Washington’s Frank Lucas aims to go where no black businessman has gone before, cutting out all the middlemen in the heroin game to guarantee the best product for half the cost. With his mission, Lucas transcends race, playing ignorant society for the fool it is by living fearless, practically invisible, and in complete control. His rewards are immense, and true to the pioneering brand of kingpin that he is, he shares all with his family, his most important thing...next to himself. In typical gangster success fashion, Lucas’ ego creates a blind spot in a once perfect plan, and as a result his rise can only last so long, as can his anonymity to the law.
In the shadow of Lucas’ reign of dominance, the true driving force behind the film’s first half, Crowe’s Det. Richie Roberts and his team of hard nosed do-good cops have slowly been piecing together an investigation to uncover the mystery discount drug lord. Trails run cold and apparent sure bets crumble, negating months of work. But then keeping watch at the Ali-Frazier fight, Roberts notices an anomaly: a black man in full chinchilla get-up with amazing seats who is greeted by both boxers. It is Lucas, betrayed by the societal limitations of his race that he tried so hard to overcome, and suddenly the case ignites.
The action throughout plays out as if two heavyweight fighters are training for a blind date fight with one another. Washington’s acting stands out for its Training Day lite flamboyance, but Crowe’s is impressive for its subtlety and control. When they meet, the titanic game of chess begins, and then it is over far too soon. The brief union is the cinematic equivalent of tracks featuring both Nas and Jay-Z: the fire is there, but we want a whole album’s worth.
Scott’s direction brings together all of the strengths from his previous works. The epic-feeling dialogue between the leper King Baldwin and Balian in
Kingdom of Heaven meets the seemingly impossible elevated action of
Gladiator and the strength-in-numbers of
Thelma and Louise. The result is a tall, diverse, and eloquent film, reminiscent of early Francis Ford Coppola. Scott always had this work in him, but it took a convergence of giants on all ends to make it the vibrant success that it is.
But back to the setting. The clothes, the cars, the music, and the general feel are all so remarkably authentic that it is a wonder such a time can be recreated today. Careful attention to the decade has worked wonders for Spielberg, Fincher, and now Scott, and it is with greater expectations that pleasantly surprised audiences await each filmmaker’s next scaffolded work.