Cast: Richard Gere, Andy Garcia, Laurie Metcalf, Nancy Travis, William Baldwin, Michael Beach, Faye Grant
Director: Mike Figgis
Screenplay: Henry Bean
Cinematography: John A. Alonzo
Music: Mike Figgis, Brian Banks, Anthony Marinelli
U.S. Distributor: Paramount Pictures
There's no doubting that Internal Affairs is a flawed movie. To begin with, the storyline recycles a lot of clichés and there aren't many detours into new territory. However, when it comes to atmosphere and pacing, the film hits the bullseye. Director Mike Figgis (still five years away from striking gold with Leaving Las Vegas) crafts this film with such ripeness that it's easy to overlook the narrative hiccups. Watching the film is an intense experience. Figgis understands how to grab the viewer and he does so immediately and repeatedly in Internal Affairs. The life-and-death game played by the main characters may not be original, but few will leave the movie feeling cheated or unsatisfied.
Internal Affairs has one other thing going for it: a great performance from Richard Gere. Before this film, I thought of Gere as a handsome automaton. His body of work backed up this opinion. Even in An Officer and a Gentlemen, the praise went to Gossett and Winger; Gere was just there to fill a function. Here, however, Gere sizzles. Perhaps it's the opportunity to play a villain, or perhaps he finally developed some acting chops, but Internal Affairs, although not one of the actor's marquee roles, marks a critical turning point in his career. In fact, he outacts co-star Andy Garcia so forcefully that the latter is often unable to hold his own.
When Internal Affairs opens, Raymond Avilla (Garcia) is a newly minted member of the LAPD's IA division. He is partnered with "dyke" Amy Wallace (Laurie Metcalf) and the two get busy with their first case: investigating charges of brutality and corruption leveled against hothead Van Stretch (William Baldwin). Things aren't going well for Stretch: not only does he have a drug habit and is in line to lose his job, but his wife (Faye Grant) is having an affair with his partner, Dennis Peck (Gere). Soon after the investigation of Stretch begins, it becomes apparent to Avilla that there are bigger fish to fry. He turns his attention to Peck. Not only does this anger his superiors, who view Peck as a model cop, but it causes Peck to lash out, targeting Avilla's wife, Kathleen (Nancy Travis). His weapon is jealousy, not violence.
Police movies are a dime a dozen. Thrillers about dirty cops are no less frequent. However, features of this genre in which there's a potent dynamic between the protagonist and the antagonist are considerably more rare. That's the case here. When Internal Affairs begins, Peck is a down-and-dirty individual with no moral compass and Avilla is a straight-shooter. As the two enter orbit around one another, Peck brings his manipulation into play. The spectacular result of his gamesmanship is that he destroys the checks and balances that keep Avilla's darker side at bay. These two end up tangling on Peck's ground, with each dancing around the other as they spiral out of control. Peck's most vicious blow is the way he drives a wedge between Avilla and his innocent wife (shades of Othello, with Peck as Iago). Avilla's response, while more conventional, is no less devastating.
John A. Alonzo's cinematography is amazing. He takes the nightscapes of Los Angeles and transforms them into something darkly seductive. This isn't the L.A. you see as a tourist - it's a place that only exists in the movies. That's not to say it's clean and grit-free, because it isn't, but it's beautiful in a way that only something completely corrupt and unreal can be. This is the setting through which Peck and Avilla play out their duel, caring progressively less about who gets injured or killed in the cross-fire.
One nice twist applied by Figgis and screenwriter Henry Bean is not to present Peck immediately as a rotten-to-the-core human being. In his early scenes, he comes across as an affable man who bends rules to help those close to him. He is depicted as a loving husband and father, a supportive friend, and a revered officer. Layer by layer, the sheen comes off to reveal Peck not only as a good guy gone bad, but as a classic example of excrement. The revelation is done so gradually that it's never clear when the audience's sympathy shifts. Would that Avilla's personality was as thoroughly developed, but the script shows a preference for exposing the nooks and crannies of the villain's psyche.
In terms of theme, setting, and style, Internal Affairs echoes William Friedkin's 1985 feature, To Live and Die in L.A. The earlier movie packs a bigger punch, but the comparison is warranted and it provides guidance for those uncertain whether or not this film is to their taste. Internal Affairs delivers what it promises, and perhaps a little more. There's less action but more menace, and the pulse quickens as the plot drives relentlessly toward a conclusion that, in retrospect, can be seen as inevitable. In the never-ending battle of good versus evil, the central question is often not whether good is victorious, but whether evil succeeds in undermining good. Such is the case here, where lessons learned by the characters are the same taught by Shakespeare when he explored similar themes with Othello, Desdemona, and Iago.
© 2006 James Berardinelli