AMERICAN GANGSTER (2007), dir. Ridley Scott

Frank Lucas (Denzel Washington) started out as the driver and doorman for Harlem mobster Ellsworth “Bumpy” Johnson, and ended up top man of New York City’s lucrative heroin industry. But “American Gangster,” which is set in the 70’s, is an American success story as much as a mob flick. Lucas gets where he does by innovating in a cutthroat business; his just happens to be in narcotics.

When the movie starts off, Frank is having a conversation with his mentor, who bemoans how the middleman has been cut out from the retail sector. Ironically, shortly after “Bumpy” passes away, Lucas will build an empire doing just that: buying directly from the supplier. Thanks to a connection in Thailand, he gets his hands on pure-grade heroin, which is far more potent than the watered-down smack being sold by the Italian mob. Soon, Frank has a stranglehold on the industry, but that doesn’t stop wannabe middlemen (led by Josh Brolin’s dirty cop) from demanding a cut before the product reaches consumers.

Plenty of business-related terms and phrases are bandied about in “American Gangster.” Lucas’ heroin, labeled “Blue Magic,” comes in a distinctive package, and when a rival hoodlum cuts it down to re-sell, leading to some overdoses, Frank accuses him of “copyright infringement.” In another scene, an Italian mobster disapproves of Frank’s monopoly on the trade, comparing it to other regulated industries. Finally, Lucas makes a fortune selling a better product for less than the competition, which is how countless American companies in other industries made their mark.

Frank even indulges in the American tradition of nepotism, moving his brothers and cousins from North Carolina to Harlem. This has mixed results, but the familial bonds allow sit-down meals to be conducted like boardroom meetings, even though Frank has to occasionally steal away to kill other gangsters in cold blood.

The movie also spends roughly half its running time with Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe), a New York detective so honest, he turns in one million dollars in unmarked bills discovered during a bust. This makes him an urban legend, but a pariah among the NYPD’s mostly corrupt narcotics officers. “If a cop turns in this kind of money, it sends a message he’s willing to turn in dirty cops,” his partner (John Ortiz) warns him.

Initially, Roberts’ personal life is spiraling downward as Lucas steadily climbs to power. On the one hand, it illustrates the two characters’ contrasting natures: Lucas may be a drug dealer, but he’s also a devoted family man who buys his mother a mansion as soon as he hits the big time. Roberts, meanwhile, cheats on his wife, has to go to court to fight for his son, is being disassociated by both his precinct and partner, and even has old buddies working in organized crime.

But personal morals and business scruples do not necessarily go hand-in-hand, and both men, the movie seems to argue, are rebelling against the same thing: the mafia and police who aid and abet the drug trade so they can shake it down for cash. In other words, the status quo that heretofore made lots of money for those atop the pyramid. Roberts’ pursuit of Lucas culminates in a face-to-face meeting between the two characters as well as mutual respect that feels genuine.

Overall, “American Gangster” is a well-made film, with the period details one expects from director Ridley Scott. The story takes place during the same time period as another famous New York City crime film, "The French Connection", but there’s less emphasis on action and more on character development. Steve Zaillian’s screenplay also makes an interesting comment on race, since even Detective Roberts takes a long time to be convinced a black man could rule the heroin trade. It’s exactly these kinds of innovations that make the movie succeed as a crime film, a drama, and maybe something a little more, too.

Overall rating: **** (out of ****)

KINGDOM OF HEAVEN (2005), dir. Ridley Scott

Like the characters depicted in this movie, I went to Jerusalem looking for God, but never found Him.

Indeed, the closest “Kingdom of Heaven” gets to religious idolatry are a few shots of a big gold cross. It looks gaudy and overly ornate, like it should be hanging on the wall of a drive-thru chapel in Las Vegas.

Removing anything resembling religious passion from a movie about the holy land is quite a gamble, and in this case, not an altogether successful one. What we are left with is a routine, albeit beautiful-looking action-adventure flick. Its saving grace is director Ridley Scott ("The Duellists," “Gladiator”), who fills the frame with his usual repertoire of exotic, painterly visuals and minimal characterization.

Orlando Bloom plays Balian, a young blacksmith who journeys to Jerusalem, becomes knighted, gains the affections of a princess, and is left to save the city from rampaging Muslims. He doesn’t really do much to end up in such a precarious position. Rather, it’s what he doesn’t do which lands him in hot water. Balian may be a character who stays true to his conscience to the very end, but that doesn’t make him the most exciting protagonist.

But if he’s a dull hero, the villains are even worse off. While the idea of Christian fanatics as opposed to Muslim ones may seem clever on paper, the script lets them down. Writer William Monahan reduces the majority of Christian characters to broad caricatures, especially Marton Csokas as Guy de Lusignan, the main heavy. The usually-reliable Brendan Gleeson is also wasted as de Lusignan’s slob sidekick. One gets the feeling that their hatred towards Muslims stems from a sense of religious superiority. However, since we get so little Christianity in this movie, it’s hard to know exactly what motivates them. To their credit, the actors don’t seem to know themselves.

A lot of the dialogue is flat. Also, scenes at court where Csokas’ knights wearing red crosses nearly come to blows with Jeremy Irons’ knights wearing blue crosses seem unnecessary. At least we have those sweeping battle sequences at the end, involving catapults, siege towers, and things getting blown up real good. Like Scott’s last war epic, the contemporary “Blackhawk Down,” most of the combat footage is shot from ground level, representing the point of view of man, not God, who wouldn’t be watching anyway.

Overall rating: ** (out of ****)

THE DUELLISTS (1977), dir. Ridley Scott

Always Duel the Right Thing?

In 1977, a young director named Ridley Scott brought his painterly sense of beauty to “The Duellists,” based on Joseph Conrad's story about honor taken to absurd levels. The movie was shot across a wide variety of outdoor backdrops, which look spectacular thanks to Scott’s talent for framing and his frequent use of natural light. On a screenplay level, Gerald Vaughan-Hughes gets the adrenaline flowing early and rarely lets up afterward. This is a satisfying action-adventure, the best pure entertainment that year behind George Lucas’ “Star Wars.”

The movie centers around two French soldiers, who are opposites both in appearance and temperament: the tall, gaunt, but gentlemanly Leftenant Armand D’Hubert (Keith Carradine), and his counterpart, the stocky, mercurial Leftenant Feraud (Harvey Keitel). The film opens in Stratburg, France, during the year 1800, where Feraud has just skewered another man. D’Hubert is dispatched to escort him back to headquarters. Unfortunately, he makes a few off-hand remarks that incite the hot-headed soldier, who challenges D’Hubert to combat.

At first, D’Hubert does not take him seriously. Then Feraud draws his sword, and threatens bodily harm if D’Hubert will not draw his. “I believe you are really quite a madman,” the more reasonable man says. So begins their feud, which, thanks to Feraud’s skewed sense of honor (he does not consider the matter closed until one of them receives a mortal wound from the other), spans three decades, several countries, and notable changes in hand-to-hand weaponry. Outside forces constantly intervene to keep the feud boiling. During the first duel, for example, D’Hubert seems to be doing well, but Feraud’s wife leaps upon his back.

Shortly after that initial skirmish, Feraud goes looking for D’Hubert in the streets of Stratburg. D’Hubert, however, would just as soon forget the whole thing ever happened. He views himself as the unwitting participant of that first duel. Feraud had drawn, so he had to defend his reputation, if not his life. Since that regrettable incident, however, he has had to constantly look over his shoulder, in order to avoid the fatalistic rival and his associates.

“The enemies of reason have a certain blind look,” says D’Hubert’s friend Jacquin (Tom Conti), a surgeon who commiserates with him.

And this proves true. Harvey Keitel imbues Feraud with laser-eyed intensity, which seems to countermand any hope of being reasoned with. He challenged his last victim on the grounds that he supposedly “spit on the colors of the flag.” D’Hubert questioned whether this was reason enough to have fought, and earned Feraud’s undying emnity. Not about to skirmish a second time with someone so temperamental, D’Hubert explores his options. If he wants to keep his honor intact, Jacquin tells him, he must secure a promotion (officers cannot be challenged to duels by their inferiors), pray that his regiment stays far removed from Feraud’s, or hope that Napoleon keeps the wars going indefinitely.

“Keep away from him, keep ahead of him, and put your faith in Bonaparte,” sums up Jacquin’s advice. But alas, this proves easier said than done.

“The Duellists” follows D’Hubert as he continuously finds himself face-to-face with his old adversary. This means the brunt of the movie consists of the same two men fighting mano-a-mano in settings both secretive and picaresque. But the movie never gets repetitive, thanks to constantly changing locations and an ever-evolving choice of weapons. Also, D’Hubert undergoes personality changes, as he ascends in rank, endures much hardship, and clashes with Feraud again and again.

The movie culminates with both characters circling each other through the crumbled ruins of a castle outside Paris. Scott effectively draws in the viewer by leaving out background music, and applying a very patient pace. The climactic “dance of death” features a shot that greatly impressed me with its use of depth-of-field: Through the stationary camera, we can see D’Hubert stalking the foreground. A moment later, Feraud appears behind, although he lies in the distance. Neither man sees the other, and soon they pass out of the frame in opposite directions. Scott, a former art student-turned-filmmaker, has endured both highs and lows in the twenty-eight years since making “The Duellists.” Even then, however, he seems to have had a gift for building tension. His two subsequent movies, the much-lauded “Alien” (1980) and “Blade Runner” (1982) featured similarly-sonambulant, highly-effective last acts.

“I have submitted long enough to your notions of honor. You will now submit to mine.”

Ridley Scott’s first four features—the costumed actioner “The Duellists,” the sci-fi/horror thrill ride “Alien,” the sci-fi film noir “Blade Runner,” and the Grimm-style fairy tale “Legend”—represent the period where he chiefly dealt with fantastic situations and characters. Production design quality, especially in the middle two films, was never less than groundbreaking. But given the close attention paid to the technical aspects, and how their sheer visual brilliance often garnered most of the accolades from audiences and critics, Ridley Scott-bashers took to pigeon-holing him as all-style, very little substance.

While I agree that characterization is weak in certain examples of Scott’s work (and this is more a result of genre constraints), any flimsiness in “The Duellists'” screenplay must be forgiven. After all, it compresses thirty years into a scant one-hundred minute running time. Perhaps Feraud could have been fleshed out more, but that’s like criticizing Spielberg’s “Jaws” because the shark never evolves past a one-dimensional eating machine.

D’Hubert’s nemesis, although enigmatic, is never less than effective. Also, notice how, in his final appearance, he resembles a certain French Emperor who had recently been exiled to Elba. Is Feraud, with his stocky build and broad hat, supposed to represent Napoleon? That depends on whether you think Ridley Scott had more on his mind than mere mise-en-scene.

I think he did. If I had to try and sum up the main theme of “The Duellists,” it’s that society, not individuals, define what is considered honorable. The military, for example, counts as a society. After surviving several pitched battles with Feraud--which he had to participate in even after being promoted (As fate would have it, his adversary received a promotion to the exact same rank)--D’Hubert understandably wants no more to do with the man who nearly killed him. But pressure from the soldiers under his command forces him to continue. “We’re now fighting this duel,” D’Hubert says incredulously, “as a compliment to the cavalry.”

Also, when Feraud chooses to make D’Hubert his lifelong enemy, he is acting more as an insulted Frenchman than as an independent individual. Going back to the original cause of their dispute, Feraud asks D’Hubert, “Would you have let this man insult Napoleon?” “Napoleon has nothing to do with it,” D’Hubert replies. But as far as Feraud is concerned, he has everything to do with it. France has achieved unprecedented military glory. The leader of those conquering forces shines like a beacon of national pride. Therefore, a slight at Napoleon is a slight against everything great about being French. Feraud did not reply to such insults as Feraud; on the contrary, he replied as a member of a proud society.

But inevitably, societies change. As they do, the rules governing honor also change. Honor by combat finds itself replaced with glory by contract. D’Hubert seems well-suited to this new kind of battlefield, as he succeeds at wooing the young daughter of his landowning neighbor, and thereby increases his fortune. Feraud, meanwhile, does not fare as well. No silver-tongued charmer like D’Hubert, he ends up in straits very similar to the general he served—marginalized, alone with no one to fight. Now he must submit to “new” notions of honor, as decreed by D’Hubert and a rising class of pro-royalists. Feraud must, or he will cease to exist. He cannot appeal to his foes for some alternative, even if they are not the enemies of reason, with that certain blind look.

Overall rating: **** (out of ****)