# True Crime (1999)

### reviewed by
Michael Redman

    No white hat for Eastwoood

    True Crime
    A Film Review by Michael Redman
    Copyright 1999 by Michael Redman

    *** (Out of ****)

We'd like for our heroes to be saints. In the complexity of our world, it would be wonderful if something were simple. We want the good guys to gallop up, wear white hats, rescue fair damsels, always tell the truth and fight for truth, justice and the American way. The ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound is a bonus we expect.

Of course it's not always like that. In truth, it's probably never like that. Bill Clinton is demonized because he had an affair with a younger woman. Picasso often wasn't a pleasant person. John Lennon was criticized after a drunken night in a bar. Kurt Vonnegut can be a grouch.

Obsession sometimes leads to excellent work, but it doesn't necessarily lead to "nice."

"Oakland Tribune" editor-in-chief Alan Mann (James Woods) puts it best when he describes Steve Everett (Clint Eastwood) as an [expletive deleted] but a great reporter. Everett isn't an admirable guy. He keeps getting kicked off of newspapers for sleeping with the editors' wives and daughters. He doesn't have much time for his family. He's an alcoholic, just two months sober. He ignores his boss's orders. Worst of all, he smokes in the office.

When a woman assigned to write a human interest article about an execution is killed in a car wreck, Everett's editor Bob Findley (Denis Leary) phones his own wife to locate him. Luckily he was there, next to her.

Everett is known for going overboard on his stories and Findley warns him that they just want a puff piece. A couple of minutes after receiving the assignment, the reporter decides that something is wrong and he's going to find out what it is.

Frank Beachum (Isaiah Washington) is scheduled to be put to death in 12 hours so Everett doesn't have much time.

Although the film resorts to a number of time-worn devices, it's done with style. There's a clock counting down the minutes, but fortunately it not a red digital one superimposed in the corner of the screen. It's fairly obvious that Beachum is innocent. The action is intense in the last few minutes. These are formulaic but the audience is on the edge of their seats despite it all.

The reporter and the convict have a lot in common but they are completely different. Everett's estranged relationship with his wife and daughter is directly contrasted with the warmth exhibited when Beachum's wife and daughter visit the condemned man.

Eastwood has become known for taking chances during recent years. He doesn't shoot anyone here, but he's not a kinder gentler Dirty Harry. Everett is a jerk, but he's our hero. Eastwood isn't afraid to display his character or his own weaknesses. Although he's in good shape, a nude scene for a man in his sixties shows courage.

Some of the best bits are between Eastwood and Woods. The characters are buddies, both with respect for a good story. When Mann is chewing Everett out for sleeping with Findley's wife, he asks several times how she was. During a showdown between the three newspaper men, Mann dismisses the rules-and-regs Findley and sides with the rogue.

Early in the film when Everett is told of the female reporter's death, he says the right words: "I was just with her yesterday." "That's too bad." But there's no hint of feeling behind them. What at first appears to be poor acting is actually an insight into his personality. There appears to be no emotion because there is no emotion.

He's a hard man. Everett explains to Beachum that all he has is his nose for news. Without that he is nothing. He has given up his personal life for his obsession.

Like a number of films, the major problem is the last five minutes. Eastwood had me in the palm of his hand with the well-constructed film until he decided to put a bow around it. The film could end just before Everett goes toy shopping. If Eastwood had abandoned the feel-good finish, it would have been a much more powerful experience.

(Michael Redman has written this column for over 23 years and admits a certain admiration for obsession. Email confessions of your obsessions to Redman@indepen.com.)

[This appeared in the 3/25/99 "Bloomington Independent", Bloomington, Indiana. Michael Redman can be contacted at redman@indepen.com]

-- mailto:redman@indepen.com This week's film review: http://www.indepen.com/ Film reviews archive: http://us.imdb.com/M/reviews_by?Michael%20Redman Y2K articles: http://www.indepen.com/

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