Ridley Scott's latest blockbuster, "American Gangster," is fighting an uphill battle. After Martin Scorsese's recent much-adored, Oscar-winning "The Departed," audiences may wonder: Do we really want to watch another gangster movie? Well, a cursory look at Mr. Scorsese's career proves that there's always room for another good mob flick. Thanks to blisteringly intense performances by cinematic heavyweights Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe, "American Gangster" is not merely a good gangster flick. It's a great one.
Set in the heart of the rotten Apple that was 1970s New York, the film presents a world coming face-to-face with the menace that Richard Nixon called "public enemy number one": drug abuse. In Harlem, the ambitious Frank Lucas (Denzel Washington) capitalizes on the growing market and transforms from a petty bodyguard into the city's chief drug lord. As a family man, Lucas is an embodiment of the American dream — except drugs are his vehicles for success. On the other side of the law is the philandering Richie Robbins (Russell Crowe), an honest cop in a police force defined by its deep-rooted corruption. Robbins is in charge of a covert anti-drug task force assigned to uncover the big fish in the New York drug trade, a mission that eventually leads him to a showdown with Lucas. What is fascinating about this harrowing tale of two extraordinary men is that it is all true.
With so much riding on their shoulders, the two leads exceed expectations and deliver what may be the best performances of their acclaimed careers. For many years Washington has been relegated to playing the hero, but in "Gangster," the actor gets the opportunity to completely twist his wholesome image. From the opening scene, it is apparent that this is not the usual Denzel Washington. Standing above a thug who begs for his life, a stone-faced Lucas casually pours gasoline on the desperate criminal before lighting him on fire. Even more disconcerting is that Lucas' brutality is topped by Washington's trademark million-dollar smile.
Washington's balance between animalistic rage and leading-man charm is best displayed when Lucas kills a rival gangster during the middle of a meal with his own family. When he returns to the table after shooting the man pointblank in the street, Lucas grabs a napkin and casually asks his stunned relatives, "Where was I?" Washington's easy blend of fury and his undeniable charisma imbues his portrayal of Lucas chilling and slyly subversive.
On the other side of the coin is Crowe's Robbins, a loose cannon disgusted by the corruption around him. Instead of portraying Robbins as a policeman with unshakable morals, Crowe defines his character as a man who continually struggles to do the right thing in a job where honest cops are left to fend for themselves. Early in the film, when Robbins returns $1 million in unmarked bills to the station, the actor stares longingly at the table full of money. The palpable anguish so present in his performance adds nuance to Crowe's simple hero.
Strangely enough, the stars' excellence in their respective roles creates the film's only real problem: The other actors fade into the background. Many of the performers seem outmatched and unremarkable when compared to the two stars. Only Josh Brolin, as the corrupt police detective Trupo, stands apart. Willing to do anything for a buck, Trupo is audacious enough to tell Lucas on the gangster's wedding day that he wants a cut of the drug money, and powerful enough to threaten Robbins to never enter the city without his permission. The actor's enthusiastically slimy and reprehensible portrayal is attention-grabbing even in a film in which the spotlight shines most brightly on Washington and Crowe.
Even Scott's usual visual flair seems deliberately toned down to highlight the stars' performances. That is not to say that his direction is lacking. Long renowned as one of cinema's most meticulous craftsmen of fully realized worlds, Scott crafts a grimy New York that feels more dangerous and more volatile than the Vietnam warzone where Lucas ventures to buy his cocaine. Smartly, Scott avoids caricature of the '70s setting by weaving the period details into the fabric of the film. His understated presentation gives the film an engrossing feeling of authenticity, lending the true crime tale an even greater resonance.
When the film reaches its powerful finale, it becomes clear that Scott has crafted a crime film more epic in scope and more compelling than Scorsese's "The Departed." Yet it is not Scott's admirable direction that will be remembered long after the credits roll; it will be Crowe's anguished snarl and Washington's devious laugh. These titans of the silver screen transform "American Gangster" into a modern American classic.