“L.A. Confidential” (1997)
One of the more problematic characteristics of James Ellroy’s body of work remains the author’s proclivity for humanizing bigot cops who pillage and plunder even more than the lowlives they’re supposed to be apprehending. Thankfully, the late, great Curtis Hanson was a director bestowed with a finely-attuned sense of moral clarity, and he did an immaculate job balancing out Ellroy’s proto-fascist leanings in his adaptation of one of the legendary crime author’s most revered novels, “L.A. Confidential.” Hanson’s gorgeous, marvelously acted period noir/procedural depicts a veritable Wild West of the 1950s where, at least in police circles, vice is the accepted order of the day. Sleazy Jack Vincennes (sleazy Kevin Spacey) takes hot tips from tabloid bottom-feeders, and feisty plainclothes thug Bud White (Russell Crowe in pigheaded-bruiser mode) is never more than five seconds away from going upside someone’s head. Only the upstanding Officer Exley (Guy Pearce) is courageous enough to take a stance against the swarm of moral fraudulence in his midst. To be sure, it must be quite alienating when you’re one of a few halfway-decent cops in a department filled with amoral slimeballs. This quandary is one that “L.A. Confidential” understands only too well. – NL
“Narc” (2002)
So much of the dilemma of modern-day policing comes down to the eternal question of whether or not the ends justify the means. In other words, is it worth it to apprehend violent offenders if cops only end up bringing more suffering to the communities they’re supposed to be protecting? The characters in Joe Carnahan’s vicious thriller “Narc” are resigned to their fates as peons in a game that is rigged from the word “go.” Here, there is no aspiration towards lofty ideals of serving and protecting. There is only savagery and plenty of it to go around. Said savagery takes human shape in the form of hulking Detroit detective Henry Oak, played with even more feral volatility than usual by Ray Liotta. Oak is a man who has seen some shit in his time, and it’s rendered him a bitter, reactive husk of a man, someone whose only recourse towards most situations in life is violence. You certainly can’t accuse Carnahan of attempting to glorify the cop characters in his movie: “Narc” is among the least glamorous depictions of police life ever put on screen, and an undaunted look at the mind of a badge-wielding fascist. – NL
READ MORE: ‘Narc’: Revisiting Joe Carnahan’s Story About The Fallout Of Police Violence
“Observe and Report” (2009)
There’s a gleeful mean-spiritedness in the work of filmmaker Jody Hill that arguably hits its apex in “Observe and Report,” a studio comedy that’s dark, bold, and also sometimes painfully misguided (its date rape scene, something the filmmakers intended to be provocative and “shockingly” funny was as odious then as it is now). Hill’s film is arguably the heir apparent of “Falling Down,” only mixed with black comedies. And many of his films, while sometimes funny, often hew dangerously close to the template for white male American grievance or active-shooter-in-the-making toxicity. Hill’s unapologetically deranged vision of a mall cop’s downward spiral was written off as “edgy ‘Paul Blart’” at the time, but this overlooks the film’s portrayal of law enforcement as a bunch of unhinged white dudes itching to bring meaning to their lives by way of a gun and badge. Few films interrogate the psychological motivations behind what drives someone to pursue a career in law enforcement, which makes ‘Observe’ feel comparatively radical in its ability to operate simultaneously as a Seth Rogen comedy and origin story for the modern disgruntled white man in America. The issue, perhaps, is in his aggressive cross-examination, Hill’s film perhaps embraces too much of what makes his characters so repulsive and toxic. Still, it’s genuine termite art that’s also fairly nasty: a nihilistic takedown of white male entitlement, bootlickers, and capitalism gift-wrapped as a studio comedy for the masses. –– MR
“One False Move” (1992)
It’s not surprising that Carl Franklin’s genre-defying thriller “One False Move” was almost released straight-to-video in 1992, but it is a depressing reminder of how little power Black directors had at the time. Effectively adapting the fantastic screenplay co-written by Billy Bob Thornton (who also co-stars in the film), Franklin magnifies the complex racial implications in the background, elevating the film to new heights rarely seen in genre films of that era. Following a trio of criminals (Thornton, Michael Beach, and Cynda Williams) as they evade LAPD detectives en route to Arkansas, the film effortlessly marries noir tropes with small-town eccentricity when the hotshot L.A. cops are forced to team up with Star City, Arkansas police chief, Dale “Hurricane” Dixon (Bill Paxton, in a career-best performance). “One False Move” is the definition of an underrated classic; one that’s filled with complicated, well-defined characters, genuine suspense, and sharp direction from the criminally overlooked Franklin. The film often unfolds in unexpected ways, tackling small-town racism and the hypocrisy of “well-intentioned” white men, culminating in a shocking, heart-wrenching finale that will undoubtedly spark some incendiary but necessary conversations. –– MR
“The Place Beyond the Pines” (2013)
A novelistic tale of two men’s lives colliding in tragedy and the legacies they leave behind might sound out of place on this list, but director Derek Cianfrance’s sprawling melodrama “The Place Beyond the Pines” deftly examines the literal corruption of a police department and the moral and spiritual corruption of men’s souls. As the film switches perspectives from a motorcycle-stuntman-turned-bank-robber (Ryan Gosling) to the rookie cop he tragically crosses paths with (Bradley Cooper), the film takes an unexpected turn into the roots of corruption and the domino effect of tragedy it leaves in its wake. Instead of becoming a moralistic tale of “one good cop”-turned-department-whistleblower, Cianfrance shows us the ways in which power corrodes weak men’s souls and enables them to become what they were always destined to be. Often ambitious to a fault, Ciafrance’s “sins of the father” theme might be the connecting thread of the narrative, but it’s the economic disparity between the two men that resonates most. A middle-class cop, protected by a family of cops, turns hero after murdering a working-class man who turned to crime to provide for his own family will never be the headline the media shows us. The corrupt are further empowered, infiltrating the highest offices in the land, but even in death, the poor are still punished. –– MR
“Pride and Glory” (2008)
Gavin O’ Connor is one of our more talented purveyors of old-fashioned macho melodramas; his films include the inspirational true-life hockey flick “Miracle,” the poignant pugilist’s saga “Warrior,” and this year’s deeply underrated “The Way Back,” in which Ben Affleck rises like a phoenix from the ashes of public shame to give his best performance since “Gone Girl.” “Pride and Glory” is O’ Connor’s stab at a visceral, ’70s-style cop-dynasty drama, and it stands one of the director’s most compulsively watchable and socially prescient films. “Pride and Glory” is about a family of police officers, and O’ Connor’s muscular, superbly-acted film turns its sharp, street-level gaze on the dilemma of what to do when you’re born into a lineage that believes in brute force as a fundamental rationalization for upholding justice, at least in the legal sense. “Pride and Glory” also examines the considerable toll that befalls police officers who maintain complicity in department-wide scandal, and the filmmakers seem to know that when you’re mired this deep in bullshit, death or incarceration are really the only ways out. – NL