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RIGHTEOUS KILL
2008
Written by Russell Gewirtz
Directed by Jon Avnet



I tried to think of a million other ways to start this review, but what the hell, let's just get to the heart of the matter: What happened to Robert De Niro and Al Pacino? What happened to two of the best actors of their generation for them to agree to star in something as eminently shitty as Righteous Kill? How did this direct-to-DVD, bargain bin trash somehow not only make its way to the big screen, but also manage to pick up Travis Bickle and Michael Corleone along the way? What the fuck, Universe?
Do they need the money? Sure, they're legends, but you've gotta pay the bills, and none of the movies they've done in the last several years have picked up much money or even much notice in general. For De Niro (date of last good movie: 2002; name: City by the Sea), the last hit was 2004's Meet the Fockers, and for Pacino (date of last good movie: 2003; name: Angels in America), you'd have to reach all the way back to 1990's Dick Tracy. Yeah, he was in Ocean's Thirteen, but in a very supporting capacity, and that movie underperformed anyway. (If you want to count it, go ahead. But it doesn't make things look any rosier.)
So they're not exactly superstars anymore, and that's okay. Money should always be second to quality, though it rarely is, especially with the economy slipping out from under us. But as already established, it's been years since these guys have been in anything good, let alone great. Is starring together in Righteous Kill throwing in the towel, admitting defeat? Maybe they saw that the script was written by Russell Gewirtz, the man who penned Spike Lee's clever heist flick Inside Man, and figured it for quality. But a quick flip of the page would reveal it as nothing of the kind. Maybe, in their old age, they just wanted to have fun, sharing the screen for the first time since the infinitely superior Heat, and for more than one scene, even. Plus, Pacino's buddy Jon Avnet is at the helm, and the two obviously have a good working relationship/contract inked in blood wrung from Pacino's pinky finger, considering they just made the widely-panned 88 Minutes last year.
I can think up all of the maybes in the world, and ruminate for hours on why they chose to do this movie, but what really matters is how are their performances? Well, as veteran NYC Detectives Turk and Rooster, respectively, De Niro and Pacino are at one point referred to as "Lennon and McCartney; not an inch of sunshine between them." Regardless of the exact measure of sunshine separating the two, De Niro and Pacino are exactly like Lennon and McCartney, if John Lennon and Paul McCartney had sucked fucking ass (pardon my French--and the unprofessionalism, too). You know, maybe if the Beatles hadn't broken up, and they had continued to hate each other, leading to the total creative destruction which was nimbly avoided on Let It Be. There's something to be said for quitting while you're ahead, and knowing when the jig is up.

The two would-be-aging-old-Beatles are after a serial killer who leaves unintentionally hilarious poems by the victims' bodies, the kind of trademark which might've been sinister in an old film noir, but which here makes the bad guy out to be a semi-retarded insane asylum reject. Which would actually have been pretty scary were the rest of the movie not so goofy. For you see, law dictates that if Robert De Niro and Al Pacino are both onscreen at the same time, and if both are playing tough guy cops, it is a requirement that they have tough guy cop banter. If this were a Martin Scorsese movie, that'd be okay (in fact, that would've been a smashing alternative). But in Righteous Kill, Russell Gewirtz's surprisingly tired dialogue gives us coarse deconstructions of Underdog and repeated "F"-bombs, all done without an iota of wit. De Niro and Pacino don't get to act so much as they get to randomly grasp at key moments in their careers, sort of a greatest hits collection, though considerably less than 1. De Niro essentially plays Jake La Motta as a cop, the very idea of which makes it understandable why Detectives Perez (John Leguizamo) and Reilly (Donnie Wahlberg) think he might be the killer. Pacino, meanwhile, is occasionally in full-on Scent of a Woman "HOO-AH!" mode, before unexpectedly reigning things in to give us a hint of his low-key performance in The Insider, certainly the best work of his latter years.
In this sad clash of the titans, Pacino is the winner, which comes as a surprise to me, since I've always thought of him as De Niro's inconsistent little brother; capable of turning in great work, but never quite as great as ol' Bobby. While certainly not trying to undermine what meager success Pacino manages to grant the film, I think I'm going to chalk this up to the abominable role given to De Niro--there hasn't been a lousier, sleazier part foisted upon an actor this reputable in years--as well as the editing, which is always erratic, but even more so when dealing with De Niro. Since he's the suspected killer (in fact, the movie opens up with what appears to be his confession), one can guess that Jon Avnet was trying to mirror Turk's cracked psyche, but I'm sorry if my ADD isn't quite that advanced. As for the rest of the cast, well, no dice. If these two greats can barely manage to hold things together, then what chance do they have? This hasn't been a particularly kind year to the talented John Leguizamo, who was made to look like a rank amateur in The Happening, as was everyone else involved; and Donnie Wahlberg, who can currently be seen in supplication to the devil on tour with New Kids on the Block, doesn't have either the charisma or the energy of his brother Mark. As for Carla Gugino? Well, she fucks De Niro. It's not exactly complicated.
There's a role reversal near the end of Righteous Kill which comes as a shock, and makes you reprocess all that which has come before. It's more effective than it might appear on first glance. But if all that Righteous Kill manages to deliver after an hour-and-a-half of Avnet's barbarism and cool kid technique is a meager surprise which alters a narrative no one will want to remember, it's not exactly worth the price of admission. The only reason I can imagine someone wanting to see this is to pay tribute to two icons who I hope have enough in the future to prove that they're not merely continuing to function past their prime. But, please...try to sneak in, okay? These guys don't really need our money. Or at least, again, I hope not.
- Arlo J. Wiley
September 19, 2008
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