Walrus Comix DVD Review: American Gangster

          It’s been a long time since someone in Hollywood, much less a leading man, has been so damn good at being so damn bad. Whether channeling the righteous fury of his characters in movies like Man on Fire and Glory or simply taking a metaphorical sledgehammer to his moral compass in Training Day, Denzel Washington has emerged as one of our most compelling cinematic performers capable of lending his unique brand of charisma to depictions of spectacularly flawed men. In his latest collaboration with director Ridley Scott, the aptly titled American Gangster, Washington once again explores murky moral terrain as real-life drug magnate Frank Lucas, a man who ushered in a new age of drug trafficking in Vietnam era Harlem. Throughout his ascension to the underworld throne, Lucas was viewed as equal parts sinner and saint, a man who brought his neighborhood and family an economic vitality built upon the self-destructive tendencies of the same people who alternately revered and feared him in his native borough. Buoyed by the alpha male convergence of Washington and costar Russell Crowe, American Gangster is an entertaining if imperfect look at a man for whom ambition was a means to its own end.

Though gangster tales always feature ample doses of those most illustrious cinematic standards, namely sex and violence, the organized crime genre at its corrupt heart frequently offers ruminations on the importance of family, albeit most often terribly dysfunctional families. American Gangster follows in the familial footsteps of gangster forbears like The Godfather and The Sopranos in highlighting the ways in which family trees can be as hard to navigate as the darkest back alley. Frank Lucas emerges on the New York crime scene as an understudy and confidante of notorious Harlem rainmaker Ellsworth “Bumpy” Johnson (Clarence Williams III). Born and raised in rural North Carolina, Lucas carries with him a healthy distaste for authority and a desire for the kind of unilateral autonomy that will enable him to not only improve his own standing but position him as the head of a family with whom he can place a certain amount of measured trust. Having observed the criminal exploits perpetrated both by homegrown Harlem crime lords as well as various elements of the Italian mafia, Lucas sees a niche for the purest form of heroin to hit stateside courtesy of the jungles around Bangkok. As Lucas visits Thailand personally to ascertain the viability of transporting said product, he very nearly revolutionizes the drug trade back home by essentially cutting out the middle man and dealing directly with his supplier. His ingenuity lands him on the radar of both a mafia Don (Armand Assante, who alternately admires and abhors Lucas’ ability to control a market the Italians look to dominate) and a detective (Richie Roberts, played by Crowe) recently charged with a task force designed to take down high profile crime figures.

Lucas views his enterprise as a corporation capable of supplying a superior product at a lower price than his various competitors. As the country outwardly struggles with the Vietnam War on both fronts, it inwardly finds itself in the throes of a burgeoning drug epidemic that Lucas finds ripe for exploiting. Washington expertly captures the dichotomy of a man willing to sell out his surroundings even as he brings his inner circle into the fray as if driven by some kind of altruism gone awry. His Lucas is played behind the eyes, as Washington meshes his trademark smile with a predatory stare that suggests a propensity for violence held at bay by an analytical bent. Audiences have always gravitated towards villains, but Washington is almost singularly adept at imbuing a man like Frank Lucas with enough gravitas to make him a sympathetic figure. Lucas is hardly a man to admire, but his redeemable qualities are further highlighted through his interactions with comparably flawed characters such as a corrupt police division headed by a menacing Josh Brolin perpetually in shakedown mode. Lucas seems to stand apart from most of the movie’s central figures due to his willingness to proceed with a certain amount of decorum until provoked otherwise. While capable of murdering a rival in broad daylight and then sitting back down for an unfinished meal, he does seem to believe in the notion of honor among thieves. The man given the task of ending Lucas’ run is similarly comprised of a mix of dysfunction and common decency. Crowe’s Detective Roberts is a man who stands as a pariah of sorts within his own department for his willingness to adhere to legal codes and his ability to keep his hands firmly placed in his pockets. On a personal level, however, he seems to have genuine trouble keeping other appendages in his pants, though his serial womanizing and failure to keep his family intact do nothing but augment his desire to succeed professionally on his own terms. As the men draw closer to one another in preparation for an inevitable showdown, the pair seems more like kindred spirits than adversaries.

In Crowe, Washington finds himself facing off with another actor for whom charisma is second nature, but there is no doubt as to who commands the spotlight in this particular outing. American Gangster ebbs and flows with the expressive face and measured intensity of its leading man. Aided by Scott’s direction and Scorsesian use of an impressive soundtrack (three words: Bobby fucking Womack), the film transcends superficial gangster fare while stopping short of being a full-scale epic. The resolution feels a bit too abrupt and tidy after the detailed exposition, though chronological wiggle room can be problematic when making a sincere effort to adhere to historical precedents.  Viewed as a whole, however, American Gangster and the performance of Denzel Washington stand as worthy additions to the distinctly American canon of criminal cinematic lore. The two-disc DVD set features both the theatrical version of the film as well as an unrated director's cut that features an alternate ending. Among the other special features is a lengthy and fairly illuminating "making of" documentary that introduces you to the real-life Lucas and Roberts, in addition to three behind the scenes featurettes. Ridley Scott and screenwriter Steve Zaillian contribute to a commentary track that accompanies the theatrical version, and the extras are rounded out with a couple of deleted scenes, including an alternate opening to the film.

- Brant Miles