'Gangster Squad'

Ruben Fleischer's already proven his ability to gleefully play with extreme violence in Zombieland, so it seems it would only be a matter of time before he would turn to the potentially most violent period in American history, namely post-war LA.

Gangster Squad opens with the typical noir voice-over, here in the form of some such nonsense about badges men wear and how it defines them. It's that age-old American question dating back to the pioneers of who 'owns' a town. The answer is always the same: the wrong guy. Here, in 1949 LA it's Mickey Cohen, former boxer turned Jewish mobster whose physique resembles a squashed pit bull while his behaviour is not of much better quality. Cohen's got the whole town in his pocket and after getting rid of, whatchamacallit, his mobster superior Dragna, Cohen runs the show and there's not much anyone can do about it, especially with most of the police force on Cohen's payroll, unless one does it off the books that is. Which is exactly what police chief Parker, one old-school bastard and only incorruptible in the force proposes to Sgt. John O'Mara, war hero and straight shooter all round. Nolte's voice here sounds as raspy as wrapping a glass vase in tin foil and throwing it down some stairs, it's downright scary to watch at times.

O'Mara, with the help of his wife, The Killing's wonderful Mireille Enos, sets up a small squad with which to go after Cohen and his operation. The team consists of a nice bouquet of noir stereotypes, you've got the drunk cynic who has to be convinced by a dramatic event to do what's right, the crazy gun nut, the young tag-along, the street-wise uniform and the bespectacled intelligence genius. Leaving the badge at home, armed with righteous intentions, but never able to be accused of subtlety, O'Mara and his team hit Cohen where it hurts. Follows a visual feast of violence. Plot-wise this is pretty much it, with a sub-romance between Sgt. Jerry Wooters and Cohen's girlfriend Grace Faraday.

Remember that time when we were all able to sit in the cinema or in front of the TV on Sunday afternoons and just have fun, a kind of childhood ideal situation, uncritical and unbridled joy in film, no matter how good or how bad? Well, this is it people! There is nothing, I repeat, absolutely nothing subtle or refined about Fleisher's film. The clichés are milked for all it's worth and the characters almost seem like stereotypes of stereotypes, if you know what I mean. Nevertheless, it has been a long time since I was so thoroughly entertained for two hours. Gangster Squad will never be a classic, I'm not even sure it's a particularly 'good' film, but the thing is, it doesn't set out to be. It never pretends to be anything else than what it is, namely a good time in cinema. It's a sensationalistic vehicle, handsome in all its artificial glory, funny, though never witty, while the performances are good enough to save the one-liners from unbearably cringe-worthy to delightfully cheesy.

If you're looking for real noir or a Scorcese-like gangster thriller, you will inevitably end up wanting to hurl your cheesy nachos (Yes! I'm talking to you, you smelly pseudo-film buff in Metallica shirt and fuzzy facial pubes in the third row) at the screen. Do us all a favour and put Gangster Squad in context. This is pop-art cinema at its best, a shallow pastiche and I mean this in the best possible way. Cinema for the eyes, not the brain.

Anyway, it wouldn't be a critique without the criticising part now, would it? Surprisingly here it comes in the shape of Sean Penn's performance. It remains uncertain whether Penn's Cohen is supposed to be a spoof of the gangster or a chilling rendition of the alleged real-life lunacy of one Mickey Cohen. As it is, Penn's performance shifts uneasily between frightening intensity and a strange goofing around. I'm not even going to start on the deformed facial implants he wears and which seem to move throughout the course of the film. Or maybe it's got to do with the fact that we’re not used in seeing the method actor in an entertainment blockbuster of this scale. 

Josh Brolin is the one thing that saves his character from incredulous huffing on the audience's part, as he infuses O'Mara with a believability that is hard to explain, but has to do with the physicality of his performance. His body language tells you without the slightest doubt that this guy does believe in the black-and-white moral code he has created for himself. When Keeler questions their actions as the difference between cop and gangster vanishes, O'Mara seems downright taken aback.

Gosling plays Wooter with what he hopes is the suave laconic irony of a Kevin Spacey and even though Wooter has some of the best lines of the film, there is only one Spacey and Gosling's high pitched voice does not help his virility. Nevertheless, Gosling delivers a solid performance and especially stands out in the combined scenes with Stone, who plays the femme fatale with a sultriness which has mostly to do with her voice. Unfortunately the verbal pin ball dialogue between the femme fatale and the anti-hero, the life-blood of all noir, falls just short of witticism here. There is a lot of potential left unexplored in the Grace character, as Stone's screen time is slightly too limited and there is no sassy boldness or any sense of real danger to this dame, apart from the one inherent in the very idea of messing with a mobster's girl.

Michael Pena, Robert Patrick and Giovanni Ribisi are all underused in terms of their potential talent for that matter, nevertheless, quality lies in the detail, and all the performances are a joy to watch.

There has been quite a strong negative reaction to Dion Beebe's digital cinematography. Ironically, the very noir period was all about glitzy shallowness and the beginning of the materialistic age with the coming of the 1950s. Let's not forget that noir has always been a style rather than genre. If they would have had the digital means back then, I guess, they would have. The shoot-out in the lobby with the Christmas tree at the end is a thing of sheer beauty. Why Fleischer and Beebe felt the need to up things a little digitally in the fight scene at the end I'll never understand as it only disturbs the smooth sleekness of the visuals in general.

Gangster Squad is a swanky feast for the eyes. Its overblown silliness, both visually and thematically are a joy to watch, if that is your cup of tea. There's a comic-book feel pervading the film and, yes, the violence is glorified and stylish, but , come on!, this is pure entertainment as the numerous shots of the Hollywoodland sign keeps reminding us. Who says formulaic film-making must be bad as sometimes you want poptarts, not paté.