What they achieve is often farily predictable (you live in a world of wonderment if you are truly surprised by the second act’s major death scene) but it is often bracing, thrilling and brave on its own relative terms. The filmmakers get points major points for not flinching in their use of the Los Angeles riots of 1992 as a backdrop. A less inventive or even a more artful’ film would have delegated the riots to a mere supporting role, but Dark Blue’ has enough conviction to drag its audience by the collar directly into the riot zone. I lived in downtown L.A. in 1992, and what I saw on screen is a convincing re-enactment of what I watched on the sidewalks of Wilshire Boulevard.
In the end though, it’s not quite enough. The third act, which for such a willingly untidy movie resolves itself too patly, lacks the wollop promised by the frequently gripping dialogue that precedes it. And Dark Blues similarity to Joe Carnahan’s excellent Narc works against it. For gritty crime dramas disrupted by a rude injection of moral ambiguity, your ten dollars are better spent on that film.
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