3.5 stars. Rating: R, for profanity and considerable violence
By Derrick Bang
As I expected, David Fincher’s
American remake of The Girl with the
Dragon Tattoo completely eclipsed Danish director Niels Arden Oplev’s
vastly superior 2009 version in this country ... and let me note, as well, that
Noomi Rapace’s Lisbeth Salander blew Rooney Mara right off the screen.
Imagine my delight, then, to see
that Oplev and Rapace have reunited for the former’s American film debut, with
a riveting crime thriller that offers more of the intense, claustrophobic
character interactions that marked their first collaboration.
Dead Man Down also owes much of its narrative
snap to a slick script from J.H. Wyman, a writer/director/producer best known
for a pair of engaging TV shows: Fringe
and the woefully under-appreciated Keen
Eddie. Wyman has a knack for provocative concepts, and he certainly
delivers that — and more — in this new film.
The setting is contemporary, the
locale the seedier underbelly of any American metropolis (filming took place in
Philadelphia). Dead Man Down hits the
ground running, with a gaggle of hoods summoned by their boss, Alphonse
(Terrence Howard). Somebody is playing a nasty game with Alphonse, sending
cryptic messages that arrive on the corpses of his men.
The newest oblique missive sends
Alphonse and his gang to the lair of a local drug kingpin (Andrew
Stewart-Jones, vividly compelling), which prompts a confrontation that doesn’t
go at all well; indeed, Alphonse survives solely due to the timely intervention
of Victor (Colin Farrell).
This clash doesn’t sit well with
regional boss Lon Gordon (Armand Assante), who feels that Alphonse has gotten
seriously out of line. A price will need to be paid. Alphonse scarcely
registers this warning, obsessed instead with what these damned notes might
mean.
Victor hasn’t much of a life
outside his duties as protective gunsel, although he has bonded with fellow
hood Darcy (Dominic Cooper), an ambitious fellow looking to work his way up the
gangland ladder. After hours, Victor eats makeshift meals in a minimally
furnished, upper-level apartment in a complex that might be one scant step up
from slum projects. He occasionally spots an attractive young woman on the
balcony of a similar apartment in the adjacent tower.
This time, however, their eyes lock.
She tentatively wiggles her fingers in an almost-wave. After a lengthy pause,
he does the same.
