Suspense suspended

MOVIES I WISH HAD BEEN BETTER

Mark Wahlberg and Thandie Newton in "The Truth about Charlie"

As my love for classic films developed over the years, there were several stars I fell for right away (such appeal is essentially why they are big stars). Two of those performers were Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn. So when I learned about the one film they made together – in my favorite genre of crime thriller, no less – I just knew I was going to love it.

In addition to starring Hepburn and Grant, the movie is directed by one of the great big screen visual stylists, Stanley Donen, and features a terrific supporting cast including Walter Matthau, George Kennedy and James Coburn. It’s an entertaining romp full of chases, misdirection and, of course, romance since Hepburn and Grant are the leads.

The story goes like so: Hepburn’s estranged husband is mysteriously killed, and the people suspected of killing him are soon hounding her to get what they didn’t get from her hubby – a whole lot of stolen money. There’s also a treasury agent leaning on her to find the money and a detective trying to catch the killer. Grant plays a fellow traveler Hepburn considers dating until she realizes she is in danger. Then she begins to rely on him as a protector while continuing to size him up as marriage material. But is he really who he says he is? Who can she trust – especially since she apparently didn’t know her late husband very well at all?

The movie is a lot of fun, but as crime capers go, it’s a lot of fluff as well. The romance between Grant and Hepburn is charming (“When you come on, you really come on.”). But it doesn’t have quite the same sparkle as some of Grant's other late career on-screen affairs like with Grace Kelly in “To Catch A Thief” (another light crime caper) and Eva Marie Saint in “North by Northwest,” both directed by Alfred Hitchcock. “Charade” doesn’t top any lists for me, but I still consider it a classic, and I often watch it when it plays on TCM or some other movie channel.

Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn in "Charade" publicity shot

So in 2002, when I discovered that one of my favorite directors, Jonathan Demme, was filming a remake of “Charade” called “The Truth about Charlie,” I was thrilled. Surely he could take it to that higher level I thought the original film came just short of - a darker, more dangerous level injected with a bit more realism. Then I heard he was going to cast a black actress – the lovely Thandie Newton – in the lead. Points for going against the grain! But she wasn’t a big star, and I knew there had to be a big name attached. Well the big name ended up being Mark Wahlberg, and I became concerned right away.

I’ve been a Wahlberg fan since “Boogie Nights,” and honestly, I didn’t mind his Calvin Klein ads one bit either. He has proven himself a solid actor – a two-time Oscar nominee excelling at playing either sensitive or tough types in comedies and dramas. He killed it in “The Departed,” and I also loved him in “The Italian Job” (even though he seemed to be playing himself for the most part) and the indie bomb “I Heart Huckabees.” But as talented as he is, worldly sophistication is not Wahlberg’s forte on screen, and that’s what was called for in “The Truth about Charlie.”

In fairness, modern audiences would not have been expecting a Cary Grant type in the role, but they needed more than that ill-suited beret Wahlberg wears throughout the movie to take him seriously. The badly miscast Wahlberg was not the only problem. There are script issues as well because I never feel completely engrossed in the story. There was style but no substance, and sometimes that’s OK if the film makes up for it in some way. “The Truth about Charlie” does not.

The bottom line is it’s just not very interesting or plausible, and by the end I didn’t care what happened. Thandie Newton is one of the few saving graces. She is believable and magnetic. And Christine Boisson is great as the cop on the case. But Tim Robbins is given little to do except look suspicious as the treasury agent. And the criminal team is a rather bland and predictable bunch, although it was nice to see Lisa Gay Hamilton get some big-budget movie love.

Alas, “The Truth about Charlie” is a far cry from the engaging escapade that is “Charade,” and unfortunately it doesn’t even make the cut as an entertaining thriller without the somewhat unfair comparison to its predecessor. I remain a fan of Demme and the primary actors in the film, but I wish Demme had taken the story and characters in more compelling directions.

Easy living isn't easy

BY THE BOOK

In 1990, novelist Walter Mosley introduced the world to a tough, resourceful private detective going up against ruthless crime lords, corrupt politicians, femme fatales and antagonistic cops of the 1940s and ‘50s in the mold of Dashiell Hammett’s Sam Spade and Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe. The detective’s name is Easy Rawlins, and as a black man in the mostly white lineup of crime literature sleuths he brings an uncommon, riveting and relevant perspective.

As a huge fan of detective novels, I remember being thrilled to finally be able to read one that was well-written and engaging featuring African-Americans as the central characters. In addition to his deductive abilities, judicious use of strong-arm tactics, uncanny knack for getting out of tough situations and magnetism with the opposite sex – all traits the best gumshoes possess – Easy brings the specific burdens of being a black man seeking justice for others when he barely could expect justice for himself when needed. He has to be twice as smart as his adversaries within the case he’s working and in the society at large – so savvy that he can eliminate them entirely or make them see it’s in their best interests to go along with his best interests.   

Denzel Washington in "Devil in a Blue Dress"

Other readers and critics were just as impressed with Walter Mosley’s Easy Rawlins mysteries, and even though it’s often difficult even today to greenlight major motion pictures featuring black principal characters, Mosley’s first Easy Rawlins’ novel, “Devil in a Blue Dress,” made it to the big screen in 1995. By that time there had already been three more mysteries in the series published, all successful. But the biggest boost to getting the movie made had to be the box office power of the man set to play Easy – Denzel Washington, who served as a co-producer as well.     

Director Carl Franklin, who also wrote the screenplay, did a fine job of bringing Easy’s world of 1948 Los Angeles to life on the screen. After serving in WWII, Easy has purchased a house but can’t seem to find steady work to keep up his mortgage. Easy’s friend Joppy, who owns the local watering hole, introduces Easy to a man named Albright who needs help with a missing persons case. Albright, played with seedy abandon by Tom Sizemore, says he's working for a hotshot mayoral candidate whose fiancée, Daphne, is missing, but they don’t want to make a big fuss about it. Albright needs Easy because the fiancée, played by Jennifer Beals, has been known to hang around black clubs where Albright would not be given the time of day. Easy is reluctant at first because of his lack of experience and his lack of faith in Albright, but his lack of money wins out.

Of course, almost immediately after he starts asking around about Daphne, his troubles begin – troubles that escalate unrelentingly the way they do in detective stories until the case is solved. But although these troubles have a familiar air about them, the story is made fresh because of how Easy has to operate within the confines of the system and all the wonderful characters you meet along the way. It contains a motley crew of good-natured neighbors, oversexed vixens, ultraviolent thugs, evasive power brokers and, as referenced earlier, abusive cops.

In fairness, the cops are almost always abusive in detective stories – at least the ones that I’ve read and seen in movies. Humphrey Bogart’s Sam Spade nearly comes to blows with one of the cops working his case every time they see each other in “The Maltese Falcon.” They clearly don’t like each other, and the cop does hit Sam Spade in one scene, but even though you know they’d throw Spade in jail if Spade hit the cop back, the threat of what would happen to him in custody is not nearly as ominous as it would be for a black man in the same era. And considering the abuses and crimes against black men in police custody made public across the country in the last few years, times have not changed very much.  

Easy faces his share of danger and racial prejudices, but he has at least one ally he can rely on – one of the best characters in the books and easily the best character in the movie – Easy’s best friend Mouse, played wonderfully by Don Cheadle. If there’s such a thing as an endearing sociopath, Mouse is it. But then, you’d only find him endearing if he was on your side; otherwise, you’d find him terrifying. There are no shades of gray with Mouse – you’re either his friend, or you’re his enemy. Just as Easy finds himself getting in over his head with the case, Mouse swoops in like a blessing and a curse – a blessing when circumstances call for hard ball, a curse when they call for patience and subtlety. Cheadle plays him with humor and menace, but because the menace is born out of a basic outlook of “These are just the consequences of crossing me,” it doesn’t come off as vicious as much as practical (although it may seem vicious to the poor soul who steps on Mouse’s shoes without apologizing).

Jennifer Beals in "Devil in a Blue Dress"

But as much as I love superlative characters, unless you’re Terence Malick or Richard Linklater, I usually require a good plot, particularly in detective stories. The mystery is definitely satisfying, but it didn’t feel as compelling in the movie as it did in the book. It could be the story seemed more see-through because I knew it already, but that’s been true of other films I thought were better than the book.

Franklin definitely knows how to handle this kind of material. He did it brilliantly in his woefully little-seen 1992 film “One False Move” and again with Washington in 2003’s “Out of Time.” The film noir vibe was strong in “Devil in a Blue Dress” even without moody cinematography, but it lacked the gritty realism conveyed in Franklin's other films in this genre. There are some similarities to “Chinatown” because of the time period, location and one particular scene with the femme fatale, but I don’t mind them. I do think the element of danger and darkness would’ve been enhanced with a more vivid sense of people like the opposing mayoral candidates. And although I think highly of Washington’s acting ability, and he was solid in this movie, I couldn’t help feeling like there might have been another actor more suited to playing Easy. No one else comes to mind, but it’s a nagging thought.  

Overall, I enjoyed the ride, though, and was anxious to see a few sequels. But “Devil in a Blue Dress” did not get a warm reception at the box office, and no one has taken up the banner of bringing Easy to the big screen since, which I think is a shame. If not the big screen, in the right hands, it could be a phenomenal series for HBO – a different kind of true detective.

DIRECTOR: Carl Franklin | HEADLINERS: Denzel Washington, Jennifer Beals, Tom Sizemore, Don Cheadle