October 16, 2007

We Own the Night
A Phoenix rises from the ashes of almost mediocrity

Jon Taylor l managing editor
jtaylor@smcvt.edu

I’m convinced that the powerful critics of Hollywood have annual secret gatherings where they dress up in robes and randomly decide which films and what actors will be the ‘next big thing.’  Most of the time, these faceless writers find some common ground with the movie-going folk of America.  Case in point: 2004’s sleeper hit Sideways, equally lauded by critics and seen by audiences across the country.  Same goes for 40-Year-Old Virgin star Steve Carrell, equally overrated by everyone (critics included) across the nation.

I used to feel the same way about Joaquin Phoenix as I do about Carrell.  Phoenix made his first significant imprint on the silver screen in Gladiator as a jerk emperor and went on to star as the legendary folk singer Johnny Cash in the so-so biopic Walk the Line.  Now these performances from Phoenix were all fine-and-good (if overdone), but in between these roles, he lost his way, providing support in such goop-fests as Ladder 49 and Signs.

All of this being said, Phoenix nails his portrayal of drug-using club manager Bobby Green in writer/director James Gray’s We Own the Night.  Bobby, son of New York Police Department Deputy Chief Burt Grusinsky (Robert Duvall, stranded in a quagmire of a role) and brother of star Police Lieutenant Joseph (Mark Wahlberg), gets caught up in the late heroin surge of 1988 Brooklyn.  After his family members become targets of drug lord and frequent club visitor Vadim Nezhinski, Bobby must decide how to balance allegiance to family versus the potentially dangerous world of drug trafficking.

This Cain-and-Abel-style tale of revenge is tried-and-true territory in crime drama, but finds major assistance in Phoenix’s empathetic depiction of a man on the edge of two different worlds and alliances.  Bobby’s struggle is seen in Phoenix’s eyes and heard in his voice as he weaves in between parallel roles as drug enabler and police informant.  Phoenix should be nominated for an Oscar for his work in We Own the Night, but won’t be. Why, you ask?  It’s simple: where Phoenix succeeds, the script fails.

Gray loads up the pages with stereotypical Russian mobsters, atrocious dialogue, strained 1980’s visuals, and a generic brother v. brother storyline.  We get it, dude:  Russians are bad, policemen ALWAYS have a pocket full of one-liners, the 80s were decadent times, and Cain and Abel had some serious issues.  The only reason this film got made is because of its major stars, notably Duvall and Wahlberg.  Unfortunately, Gray finds a way to give both actors extensive screen time with little to no payoff for their amazing talent.  For shame, Mr. Gray.

The only other notable performance in We Own the Night comes from the remarkably beautiful Eva Mendes, who plays wonderfully opposite Phoenix as his girlfriend Amada, torn between supporting Bobby and protecting her mother.  Mendes makes the audience sympathize with Amada’s plight, all while looking absolutely incredible.  This is no easy task, particularly when Gray’s script gives her little to work with besides her good looks.

In a genre where films have gone the way of overused clichés, We Own the Night finds a comfortable spot between the melodrama and the tension.  This is mostly due to Phoenix’s dark, stunning performance, which adds depth and creativity to an otherwise typical period crime drama. 

We Own the Night actually makes me believe that the critics of the world may, in fact, be credible.

Sometimes.

GPA: 3.3