Novelist Dennis Lehane is an acknowledged master of what could be termed the It's-Not-Going-To-Be-All-Right thriller. His books are bleak tales of unspeakable crimes and twisted morality, largely set in the entrenched, no-hope environs of South Boston. One of said books, Mystic River, was made into a haunting film in 2003 by Clint Eastwood. First-time director Ben Affleck knows Lehane's turf (his screenwriting collaboration with Matt Damon, Good Will Hunting, partially chronicled life among the Southies) and is now seeking some renewed cred in both the artistic and career categories, so he takes on a tale that's in some ways even darker than River.
Affleck's younger brother Casey does excellent work here as Patrick Kenzie, a Southie made sort-of-good who runs a missing-persons–specializing detective agency with his life partner Angie Gennaro (Monaghan). Their stock in trade is guys who've run out on their debts, but when the desperate relatives of a local single mom whose kid recently disappeared beg them to look into the case — on account that Kenzie's local status might loosen the lips of some characters that won't talk to police — the couple take the plunge.
They're not as in over their heads as you might expect, as a tension-filled standoff at an unusually sleazy bar proves early on. They also prove their mettle in talking down the little girl's wretchedly sleazy mom; an excellent and dare I say award-worthy turn by Amy Ryan. But once they run not-quite afoul of local police figures — including a seemingly saintly chief played by Morgan Freeman and an often hilariously hard-bitten detective incarnated with customary aplomb by Harris — and the case comes to a devastatingly unsatisfying conclusion, Kenzie develops some unhealthy obsessions that lead him to some appalling truths. Which truths then test his moral mettle in ways he never asked for.
Affleck the elder acquits himself very well in the writing department (he collaborated on the script with Aaron Stockard) and better than you'd expect in the directing department, at least for the first three-quarters of the picture. Lehane's narrative is extremely complex, and as the time comes to wind all its threads together, Affleck seems to discover that Kenzie's point of view, from which the story's been told the whole time, isn't sufficient to the task. So he expands the perspectives, and while the results aren't disastrous, some might be well and truly dizzied by them. It's been well-publicized that Affleck, going for as authentic a feel as possible, cast many genuine South Bostoners in both extra and speaking roles, and, while that's salutary, in some scenes his strategy backfires, yielding caricatures that are merely more vivid than the ones turned out by Central Casting Hollywood productions.
Still, the picture's got more than a decent share of watch-through-your-fingers moments — of both suspense and awfulness — and scads of juicy dialogue and bang-on acting. Yes, it's a bum trip, but one conducted with largely exemplary integrity and energy.
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