Crimen verdadero

No C.E. movie can ever be a complete disappointment but this one came close. Clint kissing a girl almost 50 years younger, Clint with a kid, while he could be her grand-grandfather etc. These are hopeless scenes, to be forgotten as quickly as we can. But with James Woods and is his pursuit for the truth it is still the good-old Clint Eastwood.

Unfortunately the story isn't strong enough to tip the balance. The film drags on till a ridiculous ending that fits in every Hollywood tradition, but is just a little bit too optimistic about the working of the judicial system for my taste. Oh, what the heck, I still had a good evening in front of the tv.

Here's one of those movies that's basically been done before but still manages to hold our interest -- and hold it fairly well. Squinty Clinty plays an over-the-hill newspaper reporter who sniffs a bigger scoop when assigned a human interest story about a death row inmate hours away from execution. It seems his fine shackled friend is really innocent, but can our hero prove it in time?

It's hard to pinpoint what elevates TRUE CRIME above its formulaic tendencies. Though not in top form, Eastwood is intriguing despite his character's occasional unlikeability. Isaiah Washington, playing the innocent inmate, is well cast and able to stoically earn our sympathy. Eastwood's newsroom antics would seem tired in many other films, but decent writing and supporting performances help keep things moving at a reasonably smooth pace. And although we know Eastwood will prevail at the end of the day, we're not always quite sure how.

TRUE CRIME is a picture some will appreciate more than others. What's for certain is that there are much worse ways to spend 127 minutes. It's worth a look on a rainy night.

I'll be perfectly frank; it's difficult for me not to have bias in my reviews of Clint Eastwood films because I admire his persona as a actor and director a great deal. However, saying that, I never shy away from giving credit when credit is due. I praised "Bridges of Madison County," raved "In the Line of Fire," okayed "Absolute Power," and failed to see the point of "Midnight in the Garden..." Clint's latest effort, entitled TRUE CRIME, is another good mystery that can be added to Clint's stellar works of the nineties. I will admit that it doesn't necessarily give us a story that we haven't seen before, or give us a Clint that we failed to notice previously, but the acting is so top-notch and the story is very well-paced, it's very hard to knock this film. Clint is a journalist for an Oakland paper who is famous for turning print media into crime-solving reports. He is also far from saintly, sleeping around with various women of assorted age groups (one of them happens to be his supervisor's wife), and of course, he drinks up a storm. Amidst all these turn-offs, he still has the guts to prove that a young black man (Isaiah Washington, in a fine performance) is not guilty of killing a convenience store clerk in cold blood. He has less than a day to prove it because, it so happens, Washington is to be executed by lethal injection at San Quentin by a minute after midnight, that very night! Sound familiar? What does work very well in TRUE CRIME is the way in which the film is paced. Clint cuts right to the chase, giving us just the facts, keeping the suspense taut throughout the whole film, and maintaining our interest. His cast is well chosen as always. Washington is a fine new talent, doing an effecting acting job here. James Woods appears in a few entertaining scenes as the head editor of the paper, humorous and stylish as usual. Denis Leary, very subdued this time, is Eastwood's protege. Frances Fisher even turns up briefly as the district attorney who handled Washington's case six years before. TRUE CRIME is a good thriller, told with quick pacing, effective acting, and good direction as always by Eastwood. The only major problem I have is that it doesn't provide us with any new plotlines or intricate complications. But then again, how often do we get something like this from Hollywood anymore? It is certainly not a lot. Rating: Three stars.

Clint Eastwood has directed himself in an intense drama of a journalist who has been given the assignment of interviewing a death row prisoner (Isaiah Washington) on the day of his execution. The fly in the ointment is that Eastwood's nose for the truth leads him to believe the man is innocent of the crime. Eastwood portrays a flawed character who is a womanizer, and irresponsible father and a recently reformed drunk. These chinks in his armor become apparent as he goes about the business of trying to ferret out the facts that he hopes will lead to the prisoner's exoneration.

The performances are uniformly excellent. Washington distinguishes himself as a man facing death as he subtly reveals the pain and anguish seething just beneath the surface. Lisa Gay Hamilton (currently burning up the screen in TV's "The Practice") will break your heart as Washington's wife. On the minus side, Eastwood is getting a little long in the tooth to be paired with some of the young actresses he is shown with here. In addition, the climax is a bit cliched and mechanical, but strangely satisfying. The race to the midnight execution is a bit reminiscent of the film-within-a-film in Robert Altman's "The Player". Only in that film it was meant to be slightly tongue-in-cheek. These faults aside, "True Crime" will keep your attention even though you might correctly be predicting what will happen next. The reason for this is the impassioned performances Eastwood has drawn from his first-rate cast.

When his colleague is killed in a car crash, worn out journalist Steve Everett inherits her story – a human interest piece on a man due to be executed at midnight that night. Everett tries to balance his collapsing personal life with his feeling that the condemned man, Beachum, is innocent. He begins to search for the vital evidence that will prove his feeling correct.

This sounds like you know where it's going – a worn out journalist (alcoholic), an innocent man on death row, an investigation etc etc….but for the majority this manages to avoid all the usual pitfalls. It does this by being very well written, instead of caricatures we have characters. Everett is a mess, and Eastwood lets us see this – we're used to seeing rogue cops and journalists sleeping around, drinking etc, but here we see the consequences of this. Likewise we are made to feel for the Beachum family and get a feel for the human stories that exist in the support characters. However, with 30 minutes to go, we have the usual twist and countdown thriller conclusion that spoils it a lot, but not completely.

Eastwood is excellent as a director, but he's even better here as a actor. At times he plays it too light, but for the majority we can see him weighted down by the pressure of his quest but also the self inflicted collapse of his personal life. This is not an ego-driven project. Washington however steals the show with a great performance, you can't help be moved by his dignity – Denzel is not the only Washington who is under-rewarded. Lisa Gay Hamilton is also superb and works really well with Washington – together they take some scenes that could have been soapy or melodramatic and make them powerful and emotional. Woods is good and has good banter with Eastwood, but a times feels out of place with the mood of the film – but he does provide some humour. Leary is great in a non-comedy role, he is the representation of Everett's selfishness. Diane Venora is OK in a small role as Everett's wife (the casting director had clearly seen her similar role in Heat). And we have small roles for McKean and a strange role from Lucy Liu – very small considering she had already done a few big movies.

We get some `jobs for the boys' but they don't affect the quality – Eastwood has his wife (at time of writing!) Dina Eastwood and his daughter Francesca in side roles.

Overall, it may fall into the usual crime thriller cliché of a big twist, but up till then it is an assured character driven piece that is very enjoyable to watch.