L.A. Confidential 

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Critics are doing this movie a disservice by touting it as "the next Pulp Fiction" and " having more plot twists than 'The Usual Suspects'"—it is like neither of those films in subject and period, possessing a different style altogether. Anyone going into the theater expecting something like Uma Thurman getting a needle through the breastbone is going to walk away wondering who the hell all those strange characters were. So put away that sort of thinking from the start.

That said, "L.A. Confidential" is still a pretty good movie in its own right. Set in the weirdly idyllic Los Angeles in the '50s, it concerns a suspicious murder at the "Nite Owl," in which a recently dismissed cop dies in an apparent bungled robbery. This unsettles fresh-faced bureaucrat Ed Exley (the familiar face that will drive you crazy until you figure out he was the young buck in "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert") and intrigues the tempestuous muscle-cop Bud White (a terrific Russell Crowe). Add in Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey) as a telegenic crime fighter who acts as the on-set advisor for a "Dragnet"-like cop show, and Danny DeVito as a medium-to-lowlife tabloid reporter, and you've got an intricate web of plotlines that could only be written by someone who knew what they were doing. One scene in particular, where Vincennes and Exley run into Lana Turner, teases a glimpse of this movie's comedic brilliance.

It's not an electrifying ride, but a satisfying one; conclusions are hinted at, not force-fed. James Ellroy's novel survives somewhat intact, almost to the movie's detriment—the audience gets the feeling that there's much more to these characters available on the fiction rack at Barnes & Noble. Indeed, much of the praise for "L.A. Confidential" may stem from the fact that there aren't that many good blockbusters around, but for the money, you can't do much better this month. With James Cromwell, David Strathairn and Kim Basinger.

—Ian Williams

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