Vintage

We Own The Night is set in Brooklyn, New York from November, 1988 through early April, 1989. Bobby Green (Joaquin Phoenix) is the manager of a nightclub in Brighton Beach. 

This sleazy club is frequented by Russian gangster and drug lord Vadim Nezhinski (Alex Veadov), who becomes like a father figure to Bobby.

Little does Nezhinski know, Bobby has distanced himself from his police chief father Burt Grusinsky (Robert Duvall) and his police captain brother Joseph Grusinsky (Mark Wahlberg), preferring to remain on the sidelines and enjoy his hedonistic lifestyle with girlfriend Amada (Eva Mendes).

However, when police forces led by Joseph make a raid on Bobby's nightclub, hoping to net Vadim, Bobby refuses to cooperate and family problems begin to sort of get in the way. The incident strains his relationship with his father and brother even more, to the point that he and Joseph exchange blows and insults about each other’s wives, some of which are pretty darn funny. 

But here I was beginning to question the divergent paths these brothers took and how Bobby Green’s relationship with the family police tradition is something that escaped the Russian mob.  Am I to believe that with all the Russian mobsters keeping tabs on the police chief,  his other boy and the other rank and file, they did no vetting of a night club owner who they want to share some of their plans with?  It also seemed incredibly stupid that the Russian drug trafficker decided to just invite Bobby down to see their operation. 

Also, Mark Wahlberg takes a gunshot to the face, which we later learned went through the cheek and out the back of his mouth.  Luckily it missed his brain effectively keeping him in the movie.  Okay, sometimes we get lucky.  But, I will say, he had one of the best damn plastic surgeons money could buy.  After all, a “few months” later he is out with nary a scar on the bullet hole.  I guess he heals fast. 

Eva Mendez serves little purpose in this movie other than name recognition.  She is simply the clichéd girlfriend that gets up in the middle of the night and is concerned because her husband can’t sleep.   Is it really any wonder why her husband can’t sleep. Hmm, his brother got his face shot off and his Dad gets whacked while trying to protect him from the very mobsters that wiped out his father.  I guess Lunesta will not get that job done. 

I generally regard Joaquim Phoenix as an intriguing actor, especially since his signature role in Walk The Line.  He also was great in Gladiator. Here I wish he could have spoken the fuck up on occasion.  He was so quiet and brooding to the point I thought something was mentally wrong with him.  There is no way somebody like that would mumble his damn way to being a successful club owner.  I actually got sick of his mumbling.  I wanted to smack him on the back and say, “Would you fucking say it…  Would you quit mumbling…. What are you Rain Man?”   

I still can’t figure out how Bobby Green was close to the Russian guy at the beginning of the movie.  I am guessing the Russian guy bankrolled his club, which is how it becomes infested with other Russian mobsters and scum. 

This movie was lacking something.  For some reason, and perhaps this underscores my own shortcomings as a critic, I can’t put my finger on what it is.

I suppose a comparison to the Scorsese flick Departed could be made.  In some sense, these movies are similar.  They involve loyalties on both sides of the yellow tape.  Come to think of it: Departed had a nice angry role for Mark Wahlberg too.  Whereas, Wahlberg kicked ass in Departed in We Own The Night, I didn’t like how he underwent a softening after he almost had his face blown off. 

Yes, I guess that is change of some sort, but too predictable.  Suddenly, he was volunteering for administrative leave because he got 3 kids.  What a fucking wuss. 

Still, not a bad watch. Just a thoroughly safe and ordinary action drama. Nothing that hasn't been done before both better and worse. If rating movies could be compared to football, We Own The Night is like a run for four yards on first and ten. As we use the gambling metaphor, I give it a Queen.

Matthew J. DeReno is a writer living in Pittsburgh.