Written by Jennifer
March 02, 2009
Sure it's pretty ridiculous to watch men in their sixties run around a parking garage after making a leap that would shatter the knees of an eighth grader, but the worst thing about Righteous Kill is the plodding.
Like most Pacino fans, I was thrilled at the prospect of seeing Al onscreen with Robert DeNiro again. For months I watched and waited, relishing any and all news about Righteous Kill. Having seen 88 Minutes, I had my doubts about Jon Avnet, but I was willing to give him a second chance. After all, how could anyone screw up a Pacino/DeNiro movie? The answer is simple—at some point in his film career Avnet must have confused plotting with plodding.
Turk (Robert DeNiro) and Rooster (Al Pacino) are two New York city detectives who equate retirement to death. They've seen a lot of injustice in their years of service, and at times it's difficult not to take it personally. Who isn't upset by the fact that so many criminals escape punishment on technicalities? But when bad guys start turning up dead, it begins to look like a vigilante serial killer is on the loose. Worse yet, it looks like it could be the work of a cop.
From the get-go, the audience is trained to suspect Turk. Oh, I don't know... maybe it's because he's sort of confessing his guilt into the camera from the very beginning. Maybe it's because he frowns all the time, or that he engages in semi-rough sex with colleague Karen Corelli (Carla Gugino). Maybe it's that he sounds way more messed up during his psychiatric evaluations than Rooster does. Who knows—it could be any one of those things.
Rooster, on the other hand, always comes out smelling like a rose. He's milquetoast to the extreme, always even-tempered, and he's always the first to come to the defense of his good buddy Turk. There is no dodgy after-hours sex in Rooster's life, and as far as we can tell, his extracurricular activities consist of making up a nice Italian dinner before sliding into bed and sleeping like a baby. But what of the lewd comment he makes to Karen—"What if I told you Turk wanted you to have sex with me?" It's so awkward, so out of character, that it's actually cringe-inducing. These are not words that should be coming out of Pacino's mouth, and frankly he looks a little embarrassed saying them.
Suffice to say that this uncomfortable about-face is a precursor to a twist so heavy-handed that the village idiot might as well laugh into the camera and shout, "Switcheroo!" Strangely, I never felt that the movie's failure was entirely the fault of the script or the cast. Sure it's pretty ridiculous to watch men in their sixties run around a parking garage after making a leap that would shatter the knees of an eighth grader, but the worst thing about Righteous Kill is the plodding. Like 88 Minutes, the movie is deliberate when it should be deft, obvious when it should be subtle, and sluggish when it should be fast-paced. At this point I'm feeling kind of done with Jon Avnet, and I really hope Al Pacino is too.
