American Gangster (Ridley Scott, 2007)

American Gangster bursts onto the screen with ambition, an all star cast and a familiar story of scrappy mob underling making his name in the underworld. The twist this time around is that the setting is Harlem, and we get to see a rare glimpse into the workings of the African-American underworld. Based on the true story of Harlem kingpin Frank Lucas, who rose to prominence by importing and distributing heroin directly from Asia and cutting out the middleman, director Ridley Scott unfortunately can't overcome the film's structural cliches. First established by the classic Warner Brothers gangster films like The Public Enemy and Little Caesar, refined by the Godfather films, oversized by Brian DePalma's Scarface and pretty much perfected by Martin Scorsese's GoodFellas, American Gangster by comparison is disappointingly familiar and does nothing to separate itself from the aforementioned pack.

To be certain, the cast is certainly up to the task. The always reliable Denzel Washington, is strong here as Lucas and Russell Crowe wonderfully shapes his role as Richie Roberts, the cop who aims to bring him down. In a role that would otherwise be lost under the far more fascinating of character of Lucas, Crowe's shabby, hangdog interpretation of Roberts' swings our sympathies his way. The supporting cast, particularly the constantly underrated Chiwetel Ejiofor (who was also unsung alongside Washington in Spike Lee's excellent Inside Man) are also strong, if underutilized.

The main problem is Steve Zaillian's script. Oddly unfocused, the plot threads involving Roberts' domestic situation and Lucas' cousin's ambition to play professional baseball feel either tacked on or extraneous at best. On the flipside, Lucas' wife is underwritten, only reacting to the more serious plot turns when she has to, but otherwise disappearing into the background the rest of the time. Their relationship merely serves to move plot points ahead and little more. And even though the forthcoming DVD release promises an extra 20 minutes, on top of the already lengthy 158 minute running time, I can't imagine these problems will be solved. Furthermore, even portions of the main story - particularly those that hint at racism inside the Drug Enforcement Agency and overall power struggle for the drug trade in New York City, are mere blips in a story that moves forward in a merely steady, workmanlike fashion.

If there is any reason to recommend this film, it is for the final twenty minutes. When Washington and Crowe finally share screen time, the result is electric. The film suddenly has more life that it did at any point up until then. And without spoiling anything, the closing intertitles that explain what happened to both Lucas and Roberts points at a far more fascinating film that certainly would've offered a new window in which to view the criminal underworld.