Homicide

1991's HOMICIDE opens with a bang, immediately announcing itself as an aggressive cop drama.  Within the first fifteen minutes, decorated and well liked detective Bobby Gold (Joe Mantegna) verbally clashes with city officials and is physically accosted by a guy just brought into the station. The stoccato, music-like dialogue will be familiar to David Mamet (who wrote and directed) fans. Barbara Tulliver's editing is brisk.  Mamet regular William H. Macy joins the profane chorus as Gold's partner Tim Sullivan.  They're all after a drug dealer named Robert Randolph, who is on the Ten Most Wanted List.  

Gold and Sullivan are en route on the case when they happen upon the murder of an elderly Jewish woman, a cashier in a candy store in the inner city.  The deceased's wealthy family observes Gold's expert handling of the scene, and the green policemen who can't even get past the store's guard dog. They demand he take on the case.  Is it because he is also Jewish? 

Gold ain't havin' it.  He's got a much bigger fish to fry.  But his bosses insist, while his partner summarily ignores this and badgers him to stay the course.  Things don't improve when Gold answers a call at the Kleins' mansion.  They are convinced they saw a man on the roof.  Heard a gunshot.  Bobby only serves to alienate the family with his essential dismissal of their privilege, and his Judaism.  He's a detective first, lapsed Jew second, at best. 

But soon the primary case takes a backseat.  Gold investigates clues that lead him to a secret group of Zionist radicals, with whom the deceased may have been affiliated.  The detective's motives are thrown into a harsh awareness.  He begins to feel inadequate, guilty even, for not even knowing how to read Hebrew text.  But it goes much deeper.

So does Mamet's film.  The cop drama develops into a fairly dense examination of identity.  Mainly of the Jewish culture, but bigotry is examined from all sides, including Gold's.  The detective will find himself trying to "help" the cause, and find what is asked of him to be at odds with his role as one sworn to uphold the law.  But is there a higher cause? 

I've probably made HOMICIDE sound like some trite exercise, or maybe an episode of Law & Order.  Mamet is of course far too good for that, and beneath the patented vocal rhythms and alpha filmmaking style (quite entertaining), is a probing social drama.  A tragedy, even.  Will "good" deeds go unpunished? 

Roger Deakin's photography is quite beautiful, at times resembling paintings.  Alaric Jans score is spare and just right when it is noticed.  Mamet's stock company actors are all superb.  There's great pleasure in watching (and listening to) them work.