Rampart

“The most corrupt cop you’ve ever seen on-screen,” boasts the poster for “Rampart,” a police procedural character drama from second-time director Oren Moverman. This is a bold statement, not least because of the somewhat recent release of “Bad Lieutenant,” a madcap 2009 drama which saw a wide-eyed Nicolas Cage starring as a raping, murdering, drug-abusing man of the law, but also because the co-writer of “Rampart,” celebrated crime novelist James Ellroy, wrote the book upon which “L.A. Confidential,” perhaps the greatest police corruption picture ever made, was based.

It would seem that the inevitable comparison and unspoken promises that come with this connection would kill or at least maim “Rampart,” as they would most films approaching similar ground. Surprisingly though, the film stands rather sturdily on its own two feet, thanks to the unique identity the film discovers and stubbornly stays true to, as well as a fascinating central character whose presence is felt in every scene. As a movie about police corruption, it certainly ain’t no “L.A. Confidential,” but it doesn’t need to be and it doesn’t want to be; “Rampart” wants to be its own movie, and it achieves this very admirably.

The corrupt cop at the centre of “Rampart” is LAPD veteran Dave Brown. Dave is played by Woody Harrelson, a very talented and very versatile actor with a unique voice and a unique charm. Here, his charm is less obvious than usual, more in tune with his tremendously unhinged performance in Oliver Stone’s cult classic “Natural Born Killers,” in which Harrelson played a psychopathic mass murderer on the run from the law. His character here is certainly a murderer, or at least an alleged one, and possibly psychopathic in nature, only his character is operating on the opposite end of the law.

Dave could best be summed up by stating that he is an asshole who knows he’s an asshole and likes being an asshole. As an enforcer of the law in the streets of L.A., he is forever stuck in “bad cop" mode, spending his days brutally beating up crooks, insulting citizens, judging them and spouting politically incorrect terms as if they were just part of everyday communication. And when he’s not in uniform, he’s hitting on women in bars, sleeping with them in hotel rooms or whispering come-ons into the ears of both of his ex-wives while they dine together with their children.

His family is a strange one; it seems Dave married a woman, had a child with her, divorced her, then married her sister, had a child with her, divorced her and now lives in one of their homes, which sits right next to his other ex-wife/ex-sister-in-law’s house. As he points out to his youngest daughter, technically all of this is perfectly legal, frowned upon as it is by the rest of society; whether or not we’re frowning is up to us to decide.

One hot summer day in 1999, Dave gets himself in some trouble: as he’s cruising down the street in his patrol car, a car unexpectedly smashes into his side. The driver, an unarmed Mexican man (or “wetback,” as Dave would call him, probably to his face), runs off and is mercilessly beaten half to death by Dave with his trusty truncheon. Unfortunately for Dave, the second half of this event is captured on video, ends up on the news and becomes something of a national scandal. This isn’t the first time Dave’s been in trouble on the job: he once killed a suspected serial rapist, perhaps by accident, perhaps on purpose, and has since been nicknamed “Date Rape” around the precinct.

The scandal isn’t necessarily the focus of the film; it’s simply something that happens as a result of Dave’s behaviour, wins Dave some negative attention and has no notable conclusion. As a character piece, the film’s focus really is just Dave and nothing more; we watch him go about his everyday life, being a racist, a sexist and an asshole, and caring not about what others may think of his actions or words. This slack narrative proves problematic on occasion, one's attention drifting a few times too many, but Oren Moverman's slick direction and Harrelson’s high-strung performance are absorbing enough to compensate for this.

Harrelson and Moverman worked together before in “The Messenger,” for which they both very deservedly received Academy Award nominations. As a daring and startling look at the effects of war, that was a very different movie from “Rampart,” although both are stirring character studies, and very effective ones. Moverman has extracted two great performances out of Harrelson, a leading one this time, the Israeli filmmaker clearly aware of how to use and display Harrelson’s talents to their fullest. As a team, they’ve made two fascinating works and two fascinating characters for Harrelson to play; I hope to see more from them in the future.

“Rampart” is a film that lives or dies by the viewer’s tolerance of its main character. I myself had a high tolerance for him, thanks in large part to the glimpses of humanity and sense of purpose Harrelson gives to the character, and as such I enjoyed the film very much. Your experience of the film may be very different, perhaps because the narrative is too loose to hold your interest, or maybe because you simply don’t have much fondness for morally repugnant assholes.

8/10