Law Abiding Citizen

In ‘Law Abiding Citizen,’ revenge never seemed so bland

October 16, 2009|Wesley Morris, Globe Staff

You don’t want to snicker when two rows of parked cars suddenly blow up in “Law Abiding Citizen.’’ But that’s the only response to such desperate moviemaking. There’s no earthly reason for that explosion. Nor is there an explanation for lines like, “I do my job. I’m the best at it. It works.’’ That’s Jamie Foxx to Gerard Butler, but it may as well be Tom Cruise in anything.

Foxx plays Nick Rice, a rising star in the Philadelphia district attorney’s office, and for the first time in Foxx’s career, he appears to be performing his role from the bank where he cashed his check. He’s seen this movie before, and so have we. Ten years ago, Nick arranged a plea bargain for testimony against a man who killed the wife and daughter of Clyde Shelton (Butler), an engineer who still can’t believe that justice was only half served. In the decade that’s passed, Clyde has been exacting revenge against just about anyone involved in the murders and the trial.

You would think a movie about the lawyer’s attempt to stop the maniac would be a welcome change of pace from watching the cops try. How untrue. The movie appears to have been written by an automated thriller generator (enter city, enter occupations, enter films whose box office you’d like to emulate). So it hardly matters who’s stopping Butler. (Kurt Wimmer gets credit for the script.) The plot and its twists remain the same. So does the dialogue. “Lessons learned are soon forgotten.’’ “That’s how winners play.’’ “I’m gonna bring this whole diseased temple down on your head. It’s gonna be biblical!’’ Most of the lines sound as if they were first spoken on “CSI,’’ “NCIS,’’ or the WWE.

The central mystery in “Law Abiding Citizen’’ revolves around how Butler manages to kill judges and lawyers when he’s supposed to be serving time in a maximum-security prison. Which means the movie also revolves around a mound of human stupidity. Really? There’s no cop or security officer to stop that giant grenade-launching robot before it opens fire on a funeral procession? Viola Davis addresses some of this when she makes a late appearance as the mayor, but the onus to straighten this out is actually on us.

How are we to believe, for instance, that Butler can bring a city to its knees with his intellect?

Much of his role requires him to banter with Foxx, cutting deals with the DA’s office to save the lives Clyde has left in jeopardy. He requests a steak dinner and “all the trimmings.’’ He’d like an iPod. If not, somebody dies. Clyde shanks his cellmate to death then placidly hops onto his bunk covered in blood. This is hackneyed serial-killer stuff, from Hannibal Lecter down to the murderers of “Se7en’’ and “Saw.’’