Street Kings

Testosterone filled and brimming with bizarre casting choices, nothing feels unified or especially authentic in David Ayer’s Street Kings, a movie that would be much better if any of the characters (save Hugh Laurie, of course) could occasionally resort to some means of problem solving other than gun violence. Not that the gun violence is uninvolving. Mr. Ayer, the man who punched Denzel Washington’s ticket for Oscar gold with his script for Training Day, was last seen directing Christian Bale as a war veteran run amok in Harsh Times and knows how to construct a visceral action sequence. Add to that a James Ellroy script and original story, and you start to think that this thing can’t go completely wrong. Even if this is no LA Confidential, that assumption proves to be correct; Street Kings has several entertaining passages and some bravura slumming by actors who have been far more interesting elsewhere, but the entire project, distributed by Fox’s indie wing Searchlight, reeks of studio mediocrity.

I could watch Forest Whitaker spit, yell, and scream most of the afternoon, and Keanu Reeves is built to play quiet, methodical, damaged men such as this film’s Tom Ludlow, ace vice squad fixer being doubled-crossed by his equally shady brothers in blue, However, corrupt-cop movies are a dime a dozen, and it takes a real auteur (Michael Mann anyone) to make them sing. Mr. Ayer may one day get there, even if he keeps casting rappers in roles they’re clearly not up for, but he’s got a way to go before he makes his Heat.

                                                              Brandon Harris