As it touches on crime and punishment, vengeance and closure, Sean Penn's "adventure into unanswerable pain" can be seen in some ways as a companion piece to Dead Man Walking. Would that it were as accomplished. Like Penn's directorial debut, The Indian Runner, The Crossing Guard (which he also wrote and produced) is intense, bleak stuff. His ambition to wrestle suspensefully with ethics and morality as well as revenge and redemption is admirable. But this often merely conjures a pervading air of Bruce Springsteen and proves more of a gruelling ordeal than a gripping drama.
Nicholson stars as a bereaved father who has let his marriage and life go to hell since his young daughter was killed by a hit-and-run drink driver. Six years on, the repentant killer (Morse) is released from prison but not from his guilt, and he is not surprised to be confronted by the stalker father who intends to "execute" him. Morse's John Booth requests three days' grace in which Nicholson's Freddy Gale will think about not taking his life. In that time the men separately contemplate the past, suffer, try to assuage their pain with wine and women, and dream - Gale's recurring dream is of Booth as a crossing guard shepherding children across a road (hence the title).
Booth has the surprising luck of meeting a beautiful and sensitive artist (Robin Wright) who feels his pain. Gale has some priceless interludes with hookers (Priscilla Barnes and Kari Wuhrer) who are uncomprehending of his. Although there are some great moments (one for Nicholson recalling the toast scene of Five Easy Pieces), Penn's intentions lose their way.
The film has an ace up the sleeve in the form of Nicholson, who knows how to deliver in the tortured department. A scene between him and Huston as his ex-wife, carrying the weight of their personal history, provides a classy and gut-wrenching highpoint in a grim and, frankly, arduous mood piece.