American Gangster

My friend Brad made a post on his own blog just a few days ago regarding movies that should have been great but weren't. Well, here's another one for the list. Denzel Washington. Russell Crowe. Ridley Scott directing. This should've been great. But it's just not. It's like an NBA franchise that shelled out in the offseason for some spectacular free agents but once it's all said and done, well, they still went 41-41 and missed the playoffs. They're not bad but they're just....just....blah.

It's the story of Frank Lucas (Denzel Washington) who in the late 60's, early 70's essentially owned Harlem as he smuggled heroin in from Vietnam by hiding it in the coffins of dead soldiers and then selling it for reduced prices despite the fact it was the best product on the street. It's also the story of the cop Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe), who's earnest at his job but not at home, who eventually brings down Lucas.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is where it pays (or doesn't pay, I guess) to be a blogger. If I were the movie reviewer for the Orlando Sentinel I'd have to offer insightful criticism. But I'm NOT a movie reviewer for the Orlando Sentinel. I'm one man with a blog (primarily) about movies. But I have nothing to say about this movie. Nothing. I have a total indifference to it. My fingers hover the keyboard and then....nada. I tried all day yesterday to write something and failed. I'm trying now and still failing. The movie's not horrendous, but it's also not great nor even good. It's just....blah. It inspires nary a thing in me. It just makes me want to yawn.

Wait, that's it. That's "American Gangster" in capsule. It's the cinematic equivalent of somehow being awake during your nap.