This is one of those films that pretty much defies genre or category, inasmuch as it falls into any and all from which you may want to choose. So pick a label and stick it on; whichever you decide upon will work, because `Mad Dog and Glory,' directed by John McNaughton, is going to be received and interpreted differently by all who see it, and that determination will be directly derived from personal experience and frame of reference. There are those who will find this film hilarious, while others will see it as a somewhat disconcerting drama, and it's all subjective; there is no right or wrong to it. And in the end, it really won't make any difference, as this is decidedly not a film to compel one toward contemplation once it's over, and for the simple reason that this is basically a character study of characters it's hard to care about. Which pretty much negates any `mulling over' one typically may be wont to engage upon following a film. Suffice to say, this one's a mixed bag; it definitely has it's moments (of course, that's a `given'-- this is, after all, a `De Niro,') and it's entertaining to a point. But in the final analysis, once the screen goes dark, there isn't much about it you're apt to remember once the sun and moon have changed places overhead.
Wayne Dobie (Robert De Niro) is a veteran Chicago P.D. detective, but be advised, he is no `Dirty Harry.' His specialty is taking photographs of crime scenes, and he has not, in fact, drawn his gun in fifteen years. His life is mundane, he lives alone and he is satisfied if not content with his chosen career. He's a clean cop who lives a clean life and makes the most of what he has. But virtually overnight all of that changes when Wayne inadvertently does a solid for a guy named Frank Milo (Bill Murray).
Milo is a small time hood, a loan shark, who fancies himself a `mob boss,' and though he has achieved some success in his `field,' he suffers from delusions of grandeur that have made him more of a legend in his own mind than anything else. And he manifests that fantasy by having box seats for Sox games and owning his own comedy club where he features himself doing stand-up: Frank Milo, gangster/comedian. And when he finds himself indebted to Wayne, he tells him through the largess of his ego that he can be the `expediter of your dreams,' and proceeds to send his new detective friend a `present.' It's a gift, however, that puts Wayne in something of a compromising position. Frank Milo, though, is not a man to take `no' for an answer. So for Wayne, a guy just trying to get on with his life, it's a dilemma; and because of the peculiar circumstances involved, it's one to which there is no easy solution. Still, it's not going to go away on it's own, so Wayne is going to have to figure it out. And soon.
Director McNaughton was obviously challenged by this screenplay by Richard Price, and like his main character, Wayne, it apparently became something of a dilemma for him. In his defense, it must be said that it's understandable, as this is an example of a high concept idea that looks good on paper, but needs some real vision to successfully translate it to the screen. And that's where McNaughton comes up short. He just couldn't find the hook, that special something that would've made it all jell, and quite frankly, except for the actors involved, this one would've had a shelf life of about a minute-and-a-half. While the outcome of the whole business isn't necessarily predictable (right down to the wire there's a couple of ways it can go), much of what happens is inevitable, like the showdown between Wayne and Milo. Getting there, meanwhile, is a journey nearly as boring as Wayne's life.
One of the premiere actors in the history of the cinema, Robert De Niro has the ability to get into a character's skin like no one else, and his portrayal of Wayne is certainly no exception. That De Niro can add nuance to such a nondescript character is a true affirmation of his talent. Wayne is something of a study in contradiction; on a deeper level, he's an extremely conflicted individual-- he has the heart of an artist, but his primary need is the security his job as a cop affords him. All of which De Niro conveys impeccably. Still, there's nothing unusual about Wayne or his situation. Take a poll of the people of the world and you'll find that MOST of them want to be one thing, but make their living doing something else. Add to that the fact that, while Wayne is likable enough, there's nothing about him that's going to evoke much empathy or make you sympathize with him. In the grand scheme of things, his problems are simply too insignificant to get worked up about. And it must be noted that it points up what a brilliant performance this is from De Niro; his Wayne is exactly who he's supposed to be, and it's hard to be interested in a guy who is basically uninteresting and common.
As for Murray, playing Milo stone-faced and straight cannot alter the fact that Murray is an intrinsically funny guy. Initially, casting him in this role seems almost inspired, and he gives a good enough performance; but this character hangs on him like a bad suit. He has his moments, but the bottom line is, if it doesn't fit, it doesn't fit, and the best tailor in the world couldn't have helped him.
In supporting roles, there are some noteworthy performances turned in by David Caruso (Mike), Uma Thurman (Glory), Mike Starr (Harold) and Kathy Baker (Lee), but it's not enough to make `Mad Dog and Glory' memorable cinema. 6/10.
Wayne Dobie (Robert De Niro) is a veteran Chicago P.D. detective, but be advised, he is no `Dirty Harry.' His specialty is taking photographs of crime scenes, and he has not, in fact, drawn his gun in fifteen years. His life is mundane, he lives alone and he is satisfied if not content with his chosen career. He's a clean cop who lives a clean life and makes the most of what he has. But virtually overnight all of that changes when Wayne inadvertently does a solid for a guy named Frank Milo (Bill Murray).
Milo is a small time hood, a loan shark, who fancies himself a `mob boss,' and though he has achieved some success in his `field,' he suffers from delusions of grandeur that have made him more of a legend in his own mind than anything else. And he manifests that fantasy by having box seats for Sox games and owning his own comedy club where he features himself doing stand-up: Frank Milo, gangster/comedian. And when he finds himself indebted to Wayne, he tells him through the largess of his ego that he can be the `expediter of your dreams,' and proceeds to send his new detective friend a `present.' It's a gift, however, that puts Wayne in something of a compromising position. Frank Milo, though, is not a man to take `no' for an answer. So for Wayne, a guy just trying to get on with his life, it's a dilemma; and because of the peculiar circumstances involved, it's one to which there is no easy solution. Still, it's not going to go away on it's own, so Wayne is going to have to figure it out. And soon.
Director McNaughton was obviously challenged by this screenplay by Richard Price, and like his main character, Wayne, it apparently became something of a dilemma for him. In his defense, it must be said that it's understandable, as this is an example of a high concept idea that looks good on paper, but needs some real vision to successfully translate it to the screen. And that's where McNaughton comes up short. He just couldn't find the hook, that special something that would've made it all jell, and quite frankly, except for the actors involved, this one would've had a shelf life of about a minute-and-a-half. While the outcome of the whole business isn't necessarily predictable (right down to the wire there's a couple of ways it can go), much of what happens is inevitable, like the showdown between Wayne and Milo. Getting there, meanwhile, is a journey nearly as boring as Wayne's life.
One of the premiere actors in the history of the cinema, Robert De Niro has the ability to get into a character's skin like no one else, and his portrayal of Wayne is certainly no exception. That De Niro can add nuance to such a nondescript character is a true affirmation of his talent. Wayne is something of a study in contradiction; on a deeper level, he's an extremely conflicted individual-- he has the heart of an artist, but his primary need is the security his job as a cop affords him. All of which De Niro conveys impeccably. Still, there's nothing unusual about Wayne or his situation. Take a poll of the people of the world and you'll find that MOST of them want to be one thing, but make their living doing something else. Add to that the fact that, while Wayne is likable enough, there's nothing about him that's going to evoke much empathy or make you sympathize with him. In the grand scheme of things, his problems are simply too insignificant to get worked up about. And it must be noted that it points up what a brilliant performance this is from De Niro; his Wayne is exactly who he's supposed to be, and it's hard to be interested in a guy who is basically uninteresting and common.
As for Murray, playing Milo stone-faced and straight cannot alter the fact that Murray is an intrinsically funny guy. Initially, casting him in this role seems almost inspired, and he gives a good enough performance; but this character hangs on him like a bad suit. He has his moments, but the bottom line is, if it doesn't fit, it doesn't fit, and the best tailor in the world couldn't have helped him.
In supporting roles, there are some noteworthy performances turned in by David Caruso (Mike), Uma Thurman (Glory), Mike Starr (Harold) and Kathy Baker (Lee), but it's not enough to make `Mad Dog and Glory' memorable cinema. 6/10.