L.A. Confidential (1997)

And that's just the central storyline. Danny DeVito plays a fast-talking, Hollywood tabloid reporter named Sid Hudgens who pays Vincennes to orchestrate celebrity arrests. Kim Basinger earned a supporting actress Oscar for her portrayal of a soft-skinned prostitute who gets involved with White and Exley. James Cromwell delivers a deliciously devilish turn as a police captain who may or may not be on the side of the angels. David Strathairn disappears behind the slick-mustached threats of Pierce Patchett, a high-dollar pimp who has his girls surgically altered to resemble famous starlets. And character actor Ron Rifkin steps into the shifty shoes of a sanctimonious District Attorney who knows far more than he claims, sneering down the bridge of his self-serving nose one moment and squealing for his life the next. By the time the credits roll, blood has been spilled, coffins have been filled (with the most unexpected residents), and everyone who has survived is left with little choice but to continue doing so.

Despite an endless assortment of characters and subplots, Brian Helgeland's screenplay is so flawlessly crafted, so precise in its every plot development and line of dialogue, that it's easy to forget how complex the story actually is. Vincennes, White, and Exley's encounters never feel scripted or contrived; their distaste for one another is palpable and their hesitance to trust one another is convincing. In reality, they're all good cops… all good men struggling to navigate a department packed with thieves and killers. To that end, Spacey, Crowe, and Pearce balance slow-boiling rage with investigative prowess, effortlessly transcending their roles as written to fully inhabit their officers of the law. Each actor is forced to face his character's demons – apathy, volatility, and arrogance, respectively – and each one exudes varying degrees of weakness and fear anytime their conviction or commitment is called into question. Granted, both Helgeland and the actors take extreme liberties with Ellroy's original novel, but as far as I'm concerned, it's to the benefit of the film. While Ellroy often expunges ethos in favor of exposition and atmosphere, Helgeland and the actors tend to revel in the subtleties of their characters, pulling back the curtain of each man's soul and exploring the dank underworld just beneath the surface.

It helps that Hanson and director of photography Dante Spinotti rarely toil in the genre conventions of yesteryear, creating a more realistic rendition of 1950s Los Angeles than lesser filmmakers might have offered. Don't get me wrong, they still rely on heavy shadows and soft light to capture the spirit of the age, but they spend little time reproducing the look and feel of traditional crime noir, aiming for period authenticity instead. The camera doesn't follow the actors through a set, it proceeds their arrival, anticipating their thoughts and reactions before they have them. The effect, combined with Spacey, Crowe, and Pearce's performances, is so potent that you can practically read each character's mind, piecing together information and discovering answers as if you were personally involved in the investigation. Gut punches land with legitimate impact, revelations are a shock to the system, and twists and turns are as devastating as they are justifiable. More to the point, the film doesn't feel like a film. In spite of the narration, the rat-a-tat-tat dialogue, and the chess-like arrangement of the characters, L.A. Confidential is all too believable. As it stands, I wouldn't blame anyone for thinking it was based on a true story. After watching it for the first time, I had to hit the internet to find out how much of Ellroy's tale was pulled from actual events.

Reviewing a film I adore is always more difficult than eviscerating a film I hate. The words that materialize on my screen never seem to do justice to the material at hand, and I'm often left with the nagging feeling that I've failed to successfully express everything that makes an ensemble period piece like this one such a timeless classic. In short, nothing I've written could possibly convey the genius, excellence, and sheer grandeur of Hanson and Helgeland's Oscar-nominated masterpiece. If you've never had the opportunity to dig through this engrossing Academy standout, be sure to track down a copy and devote an evening to traversing the streets of L.A. Confidential. It's well worth your time.