The opening scene of Righteous Kill consists of Robert De Niro and Al Pacino together, shooting guns. Given the advertising, it is assumed this is the reason moviegoers will venture to see it. For those viewers, it is this critic's recommendation to jump ship by the end of the opening credits.
For those who decide to stick around for more plot and characters, the next five minutes sum up the movie. Director Jon Avnet, who earlier this year led Pacino through the atrocious 88 Minutes, awkwardly navigates the audience through quick cuts of De Niro umpiring a Little League baseball game, speaking in some sort of confession tape, Pacino playing chess and the two of them in an evidence-planting scheme. It's a complete mess of a montage and a fantastic indicator of what is to come in the next hour and a half.
Besides four or five half-baked subplots, the main story is simple (and trite) enough. A mystery man is knocking off criminals in New York City, leaving a card of poetry at each crime scene (apparently Avnet and writer Russell Gewirtz believed the plots of Se7en and The Boondock Saints were extraordinary enough to recycle). De Niro and Pacino play "Turk" and "Rooster," two veteran detectives on the case who joke about "picking up chicks" and argue over buying drinks. The two larger-than-life personas can certainly staking third billing for about 10 minutes of screen time is Curtis Jackson (a.k.a. 50 Cent), who stretches his acting range as a drug-dealing gangster who hangs out in a rap club.
Every recent detective/murder mystery cliché rears its head: the old cops not getting along with the new cops (including Donnie Wahlberg, who apparently made time from the New Kids On The Block reunion), one of the old cops sleeping with a younger cop (Carla Gugino), paranoia within the department that the killer is one of its own, and of course, the inevitable twist. Watch the trailer with a bit of imagination, and the two or three different possible endings will spring to mind.
Perhaps more offensive than the familiar plot and its predictable twist is Avnet's directorial style, which features obnoxious editing and camerawork. The entire film has a sloppy, disjointed feel (including yet another baseball scene, this time nonsensically juxtaposed with a sex scene), and the plot device that leads to the film's climax is certainly worth mentioning.
Rather than maintaning suspense by keeping the characters in the dark, Avnet has the gall to simply shut the audience out of important pieces of conversation to preserve the forthcoming twist. It's as subtle as a kick in the head and proves Avnet doesn't think too highly of his audience.
But for the fraction of the film's audience naïve enough to stick around for its entirety, he may be on to something.
Grade: F
