Watching Jack Webb’s Sgt. Joe Friday question crime victims and interrogate suspected criminals, one might think everyone in the 1960s spoke in a curt, clipped monotone manner, using precise pronunciation and no-nonsense delivery. The series, of course, is “Dragnet,” the second incarnation of which ran for four seasons, from 1967 to 1970, with reruns playing in syndication for decades to come. Friday — played by series creator Jack Webb — intentionally avoided dramatic flourishes to convey realism and character authenticity. The meticulously detailed procedural aspects of “Dragnet” influenced all future TV police series. The show was also effectively lampooned — along with other police dramas — by 1982’s crime comedy series, “Police Squad!”
“Dragnet” picked up and refined elements of film noir, right down to the portentous opening theme signature, known as “Danger Ahead” — (dum … de … DUM-DUM), which was pinched from the score of the 1946 movie “The Killers,” composed by Miklós Rózsa. The gritty, true-to-life style of “Dragnet” and its precursors, such as the 1948 film “He Walked by Night,” inadvertently established certain thematic tropes that continue to manifest in period films today.
Along comes “Laws of Man,” a new film written and directed by Phil Blattenberger. Described as a “a neo-western crime/thriller in the tradition of ‘No Country for Old Men,’” the film was released in select theaters and on demand on Jan. 10 by Saban Films. “Laws of Man” is an ambitious combination of character study and retro thriller, examining both morally ambiguous situations and the challenges of living in a post-war world. Despite performances that range from competent to stellar, the film falters in its heavy reliance on exposition over action and in the farfetched final act that sends the narrative on a downward spiral that incorporates cloak-and-dagger political machinations.
The film begins on firm footing with two U.S. marshals tasked with serving two unrelated arrest warrants in rural Piute County, Nevada. The marshals — Frank Fenton (Jacob Keohane) and Tommy Morton (Jackson Rathbone) — are depicted exactly as the film noir tradition has taught us to expect: black suits and ties, gruff demeanor, matter-of-fact style of speech. Their first encounter illuminates the differences between the two lawmen. Frank is a by-the-book sort of fellow, constantly analyzing the situation and weighing options, eager to stick to the rules. Tommy is impulsive, quick to anger, and has no qualms about charging into any dicey confrontation with guns blazing. Frank negotiates while Tommy antagonizes.
That first warrant was meant for Crash Mooncalf (Richard Brake), head honcho of a violent backwoods gang. Mooncalf and his gang ambush the marshals in the middle of nowhere, leading to a prolonged firefight. Frank attempts to arbitrate, trying to talk Mooncalf into surrendering. Tommy expects Frank’s diplomacy to fail, and starts shooting. When the bullets stop flying, Mooncalf and his gang are all dead.
This is just the appetizer: It’s the second warrant around which the film is developed. That’s a shame, incidentally, because Brake is a fantastic character actor. I’d almost rather Blattenberger had delved into Mooncalf’s iniquitous backstory, because in just the short time Brake is on screen, he manages to give viewers a superb and memorable sketch of a vicious, abhorrent deviant that would give Willem Dafoe’s Bobby Peru a run for his money.
Instead, Blattenberger’s script zeroes in on Benjamin Bonney (Dermot Mulroney), a local rancher who has been killing off his neighbors indiscriminately. According to the locals, including Sheriff Kutch (Graham Greene), Bonney is eliminating anyone who won’t accept his offer to purchase their land at a fraction of its value. He manages to commit these murders without leaving any evidence — except, everyone knows he did it.
Guess what happens when Frank and Tommy attempt to serve the warrant. That’s right: Lots of shooting. And though the viewer has been told that Tommy is the loose cannon, in this instance, it’s Frank who goes a little rogue. Blattenberger starts injecting flashbacks, showing us Frank has some unresolved trauma from his experiences in World War II. The idea is that when Frank is pushed too hard, you can expect the unexpected.
Things start to get complicated at this point, as the U.S. marshals discover just how powerful Bonney’s friends are. Even as they are on his property with the arrest warrant in hand, they discover that it has been remanded. Evidence that connects Bonney to criminal activity has gone missing. Courthouses containing records of land deals that might provide motive have mysteriously been torched. Bonney is untouchable.
Frank and Tommy are officially ordered to stand down, and to walk away from the situation. Before they can leave the tiny Nevada town of Gilead, however, someone attempts to fill them full of lead. Over the next 24 hours, the two interact with various townsfolk as well as officials at the county seat, trying to determine who is protecting Bonney. Among those they speak with are Callie (Kelly Lynn Reiter), a barmaid; The Rev. Whittaker (Harvey Keitel), who offers Frank insights into his soul; and an FBI agent (Christopher El) who served with Tommy in Korea.
All of this probably looked great in writing. At least two-thirds of the script is fairly solid, although it could have been improved by a bit more attention to detail. A good eye would have caught some of the film’s more obvious anachronisms. The events take place in November 1963 — and that date is indisputable, given the film’s final act. Blattenberger may have intentionally tried to give the film a certain dreamy quality, as if the events depicted are somehow out of synch with time. Directors such as David Lynch have employed this technique to forcibly dislodge reality, forcing the viewer to question what is real and what is imagined. Considering Frank’s spiritual experience with the Rev. Whittaker, this makes sense.
Although I really want to love this film, it just doesn’t quite meet expectations. It’s watchable, and it has some wonderful performances. Brake, though just playing a supporting character, tops the list, followed by Keohane, who manages to infuse his character with trauma and tenacity as well as a tinge of existential mystery. Mulroney oversells Bonney, although the character’s exaggerated sociopathy may have come from the script. Keith Carradine, who shows up mainly in the final act portraying Galen Armstrong, is excellent, but underutilized.
The setting itself is crucial to the film’s foundation: The story at the heart of “Laws of Man” depends upon liminal spaces, and that is something Blattenberger has realized with a profusion of dusty roads to nowhere, forgotten hotels on the edge of civilization, and remote hideouts where lunatic gangs dwell in ghost town ruins.
“Laws of Man” is promising, but unsatisfactory. Most of the film’s deficiencies are probably the result of a lack of sufficient funds and a rush to completion. It is littered with genre tropes, though many younger viewers may not even notice: What’s old is new again. It is predictable in some ways, and wildly unpredictable in others. The resolution, so far from what most viewers expect, is disorienting and ultimately disappointing.
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