Mystic River

" . . .ordinary thriller about murder and vigilanteism."

Hollywood Reporter

I'm slow to be sure; however, I am getting at some of the movie DVDs that I've heard so much about over the last two or three years. I just finished Mystic River.

The action begins with three young boys, probably between 6 and 8 years old, playing in the street of a nondescript big city neighborhood The fact that they are scratching their names into freshly poured sidewalk cement gives some momentary credibility to a passing plain clothes police officer taking notice of their boyish vandalism. . .we see handcuffs dangling from his belt. After a gruff, profanity laced lecture by the officer, one of the boys, Dave, is ushered into the back of the unmarked car and taken away. . .apparently for the sexual gratification of an older man we briefly get a glimpse of as the car speeds away.

Without warning other than the obvious change in car models, there’s a time jump forward of some 35 or 40 years. One of the boys we’d seen playing in the street in the opening scene Sean, is now a homicide detective played by Kevin Bacon who is paired with a partner played by Laurence Fishburne. Another of the boys from those earlier years,  Jimmy, an ex-con played by Sean Penn, runs a small neighborhood store; and the third Dave, the young boy who’d been whisk away in the car and ostensibly abused, is played by Tim Robbins, who is all these years later a rather morose soul, a handyman, who we encounter as he’s coming home late at night with stab wounds to his abdominal area and a bleeding, cut hand. In short, we’re lead to believe that Dave has killed Jimmy’s 19 year old daughter Katie; a crime being investigated conveniently enough by the third of the three young boys we’d seen all those years ago playing in the street.

Contrived! The story line pushed credibility far beyond my ability to stay with it. . .too much heavy handed manipulation. . .in a couple words: simple minded. Compounding the manipulation is an attempt to give this turkey an under current of psychological complexity, intrigue: Dave's meaningless babble about vampires and Sean's voiceless phone calls from a wife we never meet. This Dr. Phil style pretentious psycho-babble doesn't deliver. Even the potentially rich personality dynamics between the homicide detective and his brash, no nonsense buddy, played by Laurence Fishbourne, ultimately falls flat.

Oh, lest I be misunderstood, I don't quarrel with the idea that past experience particularly of a traumatic kind early in life influences an individuals subsequent behavior; that I think, is axiomatic. One needs only recollect in this connection the literally thousands of news accounts detailing the nefarious sexual behavior of preying priest during the last five to ten years. We've heard the accounts of literally thousands of innocent young victims translated into adult suffers who come forward to bare wounds inflicted 15, 20, 30 and even 40 years ago.

That said, the sad reality of such influences doesn't rise to the level of film art with the sort of plot gimmickry basic to this film. With any less distinguished group of actors, this one wouldn't have made it out of the processing room. Given the trite plot gymnastics so evident in this film, the otherwise superb cast hardly matters.

I shall lay my head down tonight hoping that the boxing babes Eastwood used in Million Dollar Baby redeems him after this one. Maybe we can even hope for Dirty Harry's return; make my day!

One last thought, or after thought; if Mystic River won any of those little gold statues, just remember this: I didn't give 'em out! Nope, not even a mention for this turkey.

Keepin' an eye on the Big Screen for ya,

Davy Crockett