On the couch

If ever there was a case of a film being less than the sum of its parts then Rampart is it.

Written by James Elroy, whose novel, LA Confidential, was adapted to great acclaim by Curtis Hanson a few years back, Rampart tells the tale of LA cop Dave Brown (Woody Harrelson), a veteran lawman who is filmed beating the hell out of a man who crashes into his car.
Already a smouldering keg of self-righteousness, questionable ethics and misanthropy, the incident pushes Brown into a tail spin as he tries to save his job, keep his unconventional family from leaving him and maintain his sanity.
Featuring all the depth of character you might expect from a writer of Elroy’s calibre, Rampart touches on a few themes that might strike fans of his work as familiar – the law versus absolute justice being the main one.
Despite Officer Brown being an obvious poster boy for what’s wrong with the world his character never drifts into moustache-wearing villain territory and Harrelson does a brilliant job of playing him. He’s a bad man, a nasty person and a dirty cop but he’s hard not to occasionally admire, agree or empathise with. The moments you realise you’re doing it – primarily when he’s trying to forge some sort of connection with his two daughters – are uncomfortable in the extreme.
LA hasn’t been this lovingly shot since Michael Mann’s Collateral. It ain’t a pretty city by any means but Moverman makes it look fascinating. This is an LA of alleys and grim interiors. None of which are half as murky as the souls that populate it.
With a couple of brilliant moments in the first hour, Rampart is full of the sort of scenes fans of cop movies will love. Other moments, however – the sex club scene and the bit in the pool in particular – are just weird and the story, which feels so rich and full of potential at the start, kind of fizzles to a disappointing and abrupt finale.
I don’t know what’s more surprising about This Means War – the fact that Tom Hardy’s in it or the fact that despite working out what was going to happen after about three minutes, it was still a fairly enjoyable pile of nonsense.
Chris Pine and Hardy star as CIA operatives who are best mates. While Pine’s FDR is a smooth, smarmy ladies man, Tuck (Hardy) is a more solid citizen – he’s got a kid and an ex-wife he’s on speaking terms with.
Strife is brought to the pair’s fine bromance when they discover they’re both dating the same woman, Lauren (Reese Witherspoon) – not an ideal turn of events given the two are supposed to be tracking down an international terrorist.
Not that you’d notice the two were high-level intelligence agents for all the time they spend competing for the affections of their blonde paramour or the government resources they “repurpose” to mess with each other’s romantic plans.
This Means War is exactly as unsurprising as you should expect it to be. This doesn’t mean it’s bad, however. Hardy and Pine are a perfectly watchable pair and, when doing their buddy-buddy routine, they almost distract from the pain of watching Witherspoon. Almost.
Unfortunately Lauren and her harpy of a best mate, Trish (Chelsea Handler), are a thoroughly unpleasant pair to watch and any scene with either is an immediate disappointment.
Most of the jokes, such as they are, are more smirk-inducing rather than laugh-worthy and the action, other than an amusing paintball scene, are pedestrian at best.
This Means War won’t make you want to claw your eyes out of your skull but the best thing to be said for it is that the stars of some other, much better movies you probably enjoyed, got paid a whole pile of money to do it.
So not that comforting then…