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Big, perfunctory, and obviously reaching for the lofty heights of Martin Scorsese’s gangster epics or Francis Ford Coppola’s Godfather series, American Gangster is the bloated sight of a former master coasting. Here is a wannabe prestige epic about a real-life figure that coasts along an unearned sense of import without providing any memorable images or excavation of its characters moral weight. There are bland poses made towards trying to contort Frank Lucas into a symbol of upward mobility and American “can-do” spirit but contrasting him with Richie Roberts just unintentionally glamorizes the gangster to the point that his violence becomes defanged.
Hell, I just watched American Gangster and I’m having a hard time conjuring much of it back up in my memory. Ridley Scott circa Alien or Blade Runner would’ve turned this into a memorable affair, but present-day Scott is all veneer without atmosphere. His films deflate from the mind soon after the final credits roll. Do you really remember much about Alien: Covenant or The Martian?
Scott’s choice to make Richie and Frank two sides of the same coin is borderline inane. Sure, Frank Lucas is a stone-cold killer, selling heroin in his neighborhood, and coopting soldiers’ caskets to sneak his illicit goods in, but Richie is going through a rough divorce and is maybe not the best father to his kid. Some of this story is completely fabricated and it sticks out like a sore thumb which one it is. These men are not somehow spiritual brothers and trying to force the strange detours of their life stories into a digestible framework doesn’t do them any justice.
It doesn’t help that Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe appear disengaged from the material. Washington has gone deep into villainy before, but he somehow plays Lucas as too noble or too beatific. One never gets the sense of danger he brought to Training Day or the complete transformation into amorality he brought to Fences. Crowe just appears dyspeptic. Where is the transformative work he brought to L.A. Confidential or The Insider? He was far better in another bloated Scott vehicle, Gladiator. (Please read that in full drunken Elizabeth Taylor at the Golden Globes voice.)
Supporting players bring more color and fire with Josh Brolin going full cartoon as a crooked cop, Cuba Gooding Jr. in full ham as a rival gangster, and Ruby Dee glides through the film bringing decades of experience into a small role that nearly salvages the wider film at various points. Dee has several small but powerful moments, including a glower while exiting a church that’s reactive, silent acting at its finest. Her greatest moment is the towering slap and threatening to abandon her child where she scorches the earth with her gravitas and controlled rage. She is not only exerting her right to be heard by her son but asserting her authority. Dee’s screen time is minimal but what she does with it is the art and magic of acting at its finest.
Late career Oscar bait this is not. Or maybe it is, but it’s not a successful gambit like The Departed, Scorsese’s late-career Oscar make-good that’s also a wildly entertaining film. American Gangster exists, I know I watched all its near three-hour running time, but I’ll be damned if anything other than boredom and incredibility managed to linger in my mind.
