WE OWN THE NIGHT

… But have a short lease on originality

By DAVID WILDMAN

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Sometimes, a film can appear to do everything right and still leave you feeling cold. We Own the Night has ostensibly assembled all the ingredients for success-a top-notch cast, good performances-and yet the final result is strangely underwhelming, even fatiguing.

Maybe it's because half-decent crime thrillers are a dime a dozen these days, and for one to stand out, it has to offer more than what you'd find in an episode of Law & Order. David Cronenberg set Eastern Promises (a mid-September release that, in an inexplicable coincidence, also happens to be about the Russian mob) ahead of the pack with his supreme visual style. American Gangster, poised to hit theaters in just a few weeks, boasts a cracking script and stellar performances, as well as Ridley Scott's insanely meticulous attention to detail in its early 1970s setting.

We Own the Night has Joaquin Phoenix getting beat up a lot.

Though I myself would have gladly volunteered to take a few shots at him for his bleating Johnny Cash impression in Walk the Line, in this case, he does a respectable job: Phoenix succeeds in the difficult task of imbuing his character, Bobby-a semi-shady, drug-abusing club manager-with a sense of grace and flawed innocence, as he wrestles with the moral depravity of his line of work.

When we're first introduced to Bobby, he's living large in New Jersey, rolling around with his girlfriend at the club he proudly runs. He meets with the club's Russian owner, a seemingly meek grandfather-type, to discuss opening a new spot in Manhattan, where Bobby will be the kingpin. It looks like Bobby's on the fast track to the top-but it soon becomes obvious that things aren't quite what they seem, and he's just living in a fantasy world.

As it turns out, Bobby comes from a family of cops, and it isn't long before his do-gooder brother, Joseph (Mark Wahlberg), recently appointed head of the narcotics squad, and his police chief father (Robert Duvall) attempt to enlist him as an informer for the drug syndicate that operates out of his club. He resists, until one of the Russian mafiosos tries to take out Joseph, wounding and nearly killing him. In retaliation, Bobby volunteers to wear a wire and expose the crime syndicate. He succeeds, but head thug Vadim Nezhinski (Alex Veadov) escapes prison and comes after him.

From here, the film follows Bobby and his girlfriend, Amada (Eva Mendes), as they seek refuge with the aid of the witness protection program and heavy protection from Bobby's father and a ton of other cops. The two hole up in one hotel after another, nerves fraying and tempers flaring, until they inevitably falter, and the gangsters suss out their location. This all leads to the film's climax: a harrowing car-chase scene in the pouring rain. It isn't often that an action sequence can be described as dreary, but director/writer James Gray has pulled off that dubious achievement.

In a sense, this film is trying to be like Martin Scorsese's Goodfellas, except that it's missing both Scorsese's dark, rebellious sense of humor and his ability to portray the sweep of history within the context of the story. Gray is content to evoke the late '80s simply by blaring Blondie songs and taking sartorial swipes from vintage MTV videos-beyond that, this film might as well be taking place in the present. The shallow, window-dressing treatment of the film's '80s setting makes it seem like more of a nostalgic gimmick than a vital part of the story.

Perhaps if Gray had more to say as a writer and director, we could overlook such missteps. The three leads of We Own the Night are beyond competent: Phoenix is interesting (even compelling, at times) and certainly holds his own at the center of the film; Wahlberg maintains a characteristically tough front while wielding a subtle spectrum of emotions ranging from rage to regret; and Duvall, as usual, is pure gravitas, with just the right amount of vulnerability. But without a solid anchor in reality-or at least a more engaging point to the story-We Own the Night has a tendency to tip dangerously toward melodrama. Combined, its dour tone and one-dimensional plot drains your energy when it should be quickening your pulse. The effect is ultimately that of having your blood slowly siphoned out through an IV, leaving you weary and listless by the time the credits roll.

WE OWN THE NIGHT

RATED | R

OPENS | FRIDAY, 10.12.07