The
new Denzel Washington film, Out of Time,
suggests something about how far Hollywood and American popular culture have
traveled in a generation. The writer and director may very well have intended
simply to make a taut, exciting thriller celebrating the heritage of classic
film noir. However, their movie, inadvertently or not, provides a curious and
occasionally refreshing version of that long sought ideal, the colorblind
society. Mixing race and ethnicity with utter insouciance, it manages the
tricky feat of dealing with sex, violence, and crime without ever employing its
racial elements to intensify its actions and emotions.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย One of a handful of African American
performers to cross the racial divide in contemporary film, Denzel Washington
in Out of Time takes on the sort of
part that could just as easily feature a white actor. He plays Matt Lee
Whitlock, the chief of a four-man police force in the little hamlet of Banyan
Key, Florida.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Already encumbered with personal and
professional problems, Matt finds himself in a complicated tangle of danger,
deception, and treachery. About to be served with final divorce papers by his
wife Alex (Eva Mendes), a detective on the Miami Police Force, he carries on a
torrid affair with a married woman (Sanaa Lathan), whose husband apparently
suspects the truth about the relationship.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Naturally, he compounds his personal
difficulties by violating the law. His lover Ann persuades him to make her a
temporary loan of a large stash of impounded drug money he’s holding in his
office safe. When someone torches Ann’s house, killing her and her husband, a
neighbor sees Matt lurking outside. Her vague identification, along with a
gradual accumulation of additional clues, like phone records and computer data,
initiates a series of steps toward his incrimination.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Searching for the actual culprit
himself, while also trying to cover up or obliterate the damning information,
he finds he must also somehow stall the federal authorities who demand that he
turn over the drug money as evidence for a trial. As if all that weren’t enough
to drive a desperate man beyond his limits, he discovers that his soon-to-be
ex-wife has been assigned to supervise the arson and murder investigation.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The script places its protagonist in
a situation that multiplies the complexity of the usual film noir. The form’s
characteristic themes of sexual betrayal and guilt temporarily disappear while
the embattled chief attempts to elude the official investigation, outmaneuver
the feds, find out who set him up, and recover the missing dough.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย In addition to its connection to the
dark tradition of noir, the movie’s title underlines its particular debt to The Big Clock and its remake, No Way Out, both of which deal with a
man forced to prove his innocence in the face of overwhelming evidence against
him. In addition, the chief, like the characters in those movies, must fight
time, moving in effect counterclockwise against the inevitable progress of time
and an implacable fate. He quite literally runs out of time.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Despite the complication of the
polished mechanism that propels the plot, the picture moves with a nicely
controlled urgency, building its tension through a number of slick devices. It
allows for some emotional depth in the relationship between Matt and Alex and
even a considerable amount of comedy in the chief’s behavior and in some of the
characters who surround him. Although any wan veteran of the double darkness of
the theater and the genre will almost immediately figure out the central
mystery, the picture for the most part plays fair with both the cop and the audience,
maintaining its generally entertaining contrivance from beginning to end.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The racial configuration of the cast
demonstrates a kind of diversity new to Hollywood. The African-American chief
of police, married to a Hispanic woman, conducts an affair with an
African-American woman who is herself married to a white man, and nobody, even
in a little town in the Deep South, raises an eyebrow about the interracial
relationships or the unusual ethnic mixture. Whatever the authenticity of that
particular premise, the script’s vision hints hopefully at a growing acceptance
of racial and ethnic diversity in society itself.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Denzel Washington belongs to that
group of talented African Americans, which includes Morgan Freeman, Samuel L.
Jackson, and Laurence Fishburne, who now can be cast by a formerly reluctant
Hollywood system to play roles that in the past were the exclusive province of
white stars. In Out of Time he once
again demonstrates his versatility. The last cop he played, for example, was
the bad guy in Training Day, a
completely different sort of policeman from Matt Whitlock, in a terrific
performance that won him an Academy Award. Although hardly a masterpiece, the
picture benefits immensely from his presence, which helps make the contrivance
of the plot hum with the appropriate excitement and the proper tension of its
tradition.
Out of Time, starring Denzel
Washington, Eva Mendes, Sanaa Lathen, Dean Cain, John Billingsley, Robert
Baker, Alex Carter, Antoni Carone, Terry Loughlin, Nora Dunn; written by Dave
Collard; directed by Carl Franklin. Cinemark Tinseltown, Hoyts Greece Ridge,
Loews Webster, Pittsford Plaza Cinema, Regal Culver Ridge, Regal Eastview,
Regal Henrietta.
You
can hear George and his movie reviews on WXXI-FM 91.5 Fridays at 7:20 a.m.,
rerun on Saturdays at 8:50 a.m.
This article appears in Oct 8-14, 2003.
