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Through Neil Jordan’s unflinching lenses, a dark, sinister New York comes alive. A place where no one is safe. A place where a perfect stranger can turn around and shoot you. A place where the hunter might just end up being hunted. In other words Jordan meticulously recreates the horrors of modern urban life. Shouldn’t have been much of a problem for the Irish director really, from the startling human drama, The Crying Game to the melancholic TheEnd of the Affair, Jordan has repeatedly proved that when it comes to saturating farmes with mood, a few can rival him.
So here he is, equipped with the overwhelming talents of Jodie Foster and Terence Howard, directing a vigilante thriller ( a genre of films where the wronged protagonist ends up being an avenging angel, wiping out scum from the city streets) cut from the same cloth as Scorsese’s masterpiece Taxi Driver, or maybe Charles Brosnan’s many B-grade exploits.
Erica (Jodie Foster) is a sinewy New York City talk show host who is reveling in her pre-nuptial bliss with a dreamy fiancé( Naveen Andrews is an overtly sexualised beau, who apart from looking smoky hot, has precious little to do). Her hopes and dreams are shattered in a particularly nasty mugging incident — both are brutally beaten and the boyfriend dies. An emotionally wrought Erica is hardly a survivor as she ends up being a pale imitator of her former self. In a random act of ruthlessness she buys a gun — for protection and revenge. It is not long before she starts using it, as the lure of putting an end to crimes around her with the pull of a trigger proves to be too tempting for our wronged woman. On her trail is an sensitive and honest police officer (Terence Howard), who ends up being more of friend than a foe to Erica.
Strangely enough, in spite of almost everything falling into place, including wonderful performances from the lead actors, The Brave One barely works. Maybe it’s the director’s incredible body of work which makes this otherwise credible work seem almost run of the mill.Or maybe it’s the films flimsy subconscious which can’t seem to decide whether to laud the protagonist’s carnage or take a stoical stand on it, leaving the audience somewhat confused. Whatever it maybe one can’t help but wonder but what are these fine talents doing in a film with such flagrantly mixed morals?
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