If
it weren't for the presence of Edward Norton, Colin Farrell, and Jon Voight in
lead roles, it would be easy to mistake Pride And Glory for a rejected cop show
pilot. A hackneyed, clichéd muddle about a good cop torn between his
responsibilities to his family and his duty to uphold the law no matter the
consequences, Pride And Glory would have felt second-hand and overly familiar
even if it were greenlit in 1937 as a vehicle for Humphrey Bogart and Edward G.
Robinson.
In
a rare forgettable performance, Norton stifles his charisma and coiled
intensity as the black sheep scion of a prominent family of cops led by boozy
patriarch Jon Voight. Norton has the smarts and connections to go far in the
police department, but his sense of ethics and fair play keep him from progressing
professionally. Norton's troubled relationship with his colleagues grows even
more strained when he investigates the murder of police officers and uncovers
an epidemic of corrupt, murderous, drug-dealing cops led by hotheaded
brother-in-law Colin Farrell. It's Serpico For Dummies as Norton takes a bold
stand against his dirty brothers in blue.
Pride
And Glory feels laughably over-the-top well before Farrell illustrates his
character's growing desperation and non-existent moral code by threatening to
take a scalding hot iron to a baby's face. The film has exactly two equally
unsatisfying modes: goofily melodramatic and perversely inert. Yet for all its
shamelessness, Glory is too dull to work even as camp; at least Farrell's
performance gives it some much-needed pulpy energy. The same can't be said of
Norton, who sleepwalks blearily through the film. Norton is infamous for
rewriting scripts and acting as a de facto director on his movies yet he seems
lost and defeated here. Forget script polishing: Norton should have encouraged
his colleagues to throw out the script completely and make a film that wasn't
so reliant on mothballed clichés about family and honor, duty and friendship.