Joe Carnahan is a filmmaker born out of time. Early on in his latest, Copshop, the soundtrack blasts out the irresistible wacca-wacca of Lalo Schifrin’s Magnum Force score and Curtis Mayfield’s ‘Freddie’s Dead’ from Superfly. You can imagine he would have been right at home directing a Clint Eastwood or a Steve McQueen or a Lee Marvin in some stripped-down ’70s thriller. As such, Copshop, coming hot on the heels of last month’s Boss Level, is a typical Carnahan joint: streamlined, muscular, morally murky and, especially in its second half, armed to the teeth with gunplay. It’s modest in its ambition but delivers lo-fi pleasures with aplomb.
The action is built on a nifty premise. To escape the clutches of lethal killer Bob Viddick (Gerard Butler), slippery con artist Teddy Murretto (Frank Grillo) punches rookie police officer Valerie Young (Watchmen’s Alexis Louder) spark out, with the plan to be banged up in the local copshop, out of harm’s — and, most importantly, Viddick’s — way. Yet Viddick, an assassin who once cut off a victim’s leg and beat him to death with it, is not to be stopped. He pretends to be DUI and finds himself in a cell opposite Teddy, with an ingenious ruse to get himself free.
A decent-sized bang for its modest buck.
So far, so simple. But Carnahan and co-screenwriter Kurt McLeod start adding layers of subterfuge, involving crooked cops, bent Feds and a dead Nevada attorney general. It’s a familiar farrago of double-crossing, triple-crossing and characters you think are dead coming back, but there’s some funny dialogue (“What’s got you so curious?” “Curiosity”; “You look like Tom Cruise in that samurai film nobody watched”) and efficient action, and Carnahan’s filmmaking is economical but clever, cinematographer Juan Miguel Azpiroz finding different interesting looks in a solitary police station.
The director is also blessed with a cast in tune with his sensibility. Grillo makes for a slimy weasel, Butler is menacing in what is essentially a supporting role and Toby Huss gives the second half a weird energy as a psycho bearing kiddie balloons. But the film finds its centre in Alexis Louder’s greenhorn cop, a calm, winning figure in all the melee. Sadly, she gets side-lined when the film moves into full-on fistfights ’n’ firearms mode, as Carnahan and Copshop deliver a decent-sized bang for its modest buck.
