American Gangster is surely the most anticipated mainstream film of 2007 and after watching it, one gets the impression that its success is more of a happy accident rather than anything producer Brian Grazer or director Ridley Scott could have anticipated in pre-production. In what will undoubtedly be this year’s award season heavyweight for Universal Studios, you can hardly go wrong with Scott (Blade Runner, Gladiator) behind the camera and Academy Award winner’s Russell Crowe and Denzel Washington splitting time in front of it. This is particularly true if you’re telling a fact-based story containing a consortium of organized crime, guns, drugs, and plenty of fun that has something for everyone. Indeed, Universal has obviously marketed this film as a modern day Scarface, given the title and incessant advertising containing movie posters closely mimicking that of their seminal 1983 film starring Al Pacino. Fans, meanwhile, have used the teaser trailers and early reviews to conclude that the bloody glory of Goodfellas has once again returned to the Big Screen. But therein lays the folly.

Instead of Scarface meets Goodfellas, we are given something more akin to Blow meets Donnie Brasco. And there is certainly nothing wrong with that. Denzel’s character Frank Lucas, for one, is a far cry from Pacino’s Tony Montana. In Mr. Lucas we are given a man so cunningly methodical that shooting a rival in the head while sitting down to a warm cup of coffee moments later becomes a brief snapshot of what his average day entails. His rule over the streets of Harlem in the late 60’s and early 70’s was characterized not by excessive displays of wanton rage or unnecessary flash, but by meticulous calculation and business-like formality. In essence, what makes Frank Lucas such a fascinating character is that he is part gangster and part gangsta; a combination that has rarely, if ever, manifested itself in filmic form on such a grand scale. On the one hand he is not quite Lucky Luciano, Al Capone, or John Gotti. But close. Neither is he Raymond Washington, Stanley Williams, or Huey Newton. But, again, close. Consequently, Denzel Washington is given free range in this film and he turns in an Oscar-worthy performance that rivals on his best.

Lucas claims that at the height of his empire he netted more than $1 million in cash every day of the year. His product was sold in tiny blue pouches with the words “Blue Magic” printed on the front. They contained the purest heroin anyone on the streets of New York had ever injected into their veins and at nearly half the price of any other competitor. This unprecedented market domination piqued the interest of not only other Harlem hoods looking for a piece of the action, but also the major families of the Italian mafia who were less than pleased by the emergence of this rogue individualist whom Ayn Rand would have likely respected; at least in principle. Nor did it escape the New York Police Department. Russell Crowe turns in yet another phenomenal performance as Detective Richie Roberts who, like Frank Serpico, was scorned throughout the department for being far too honest of a cop at a time when corruption in the ranks was systematic. Tapped to head a newly formed Federal Narcotics division, Roberts and his men begin to work the streets and inch their way closer to the source of the seemingly ubiquitous blue baggies.

Helping to accentuate the lead performances are several smaller roles by a slew of recognizable performers. Josh Brolin, for one, takes a memorable turn as a sinister New York detective who has no interest in arresting big time criminals, only shaking them down for some extra cash. Cuba Gooding Jr., meanwhile, found a way to slip out of the Daddy Day Camp in order to manage one of Lucas’s sleazy Harlem night clubs. In all, the set designs are fantastic, as are the vintage wardrobes. It was not until Frank Lucas went against his better judgment and wore a gaudy Chinchilla fur coat and hat to a Muhammad Ali fight at Madison Square Garden did Richie Roberts even learn who the kingpin was.

American Gangster is one of those films that desperately wants to be considered an epic. It teeters on the brink if for no other reason than it continually borrows certain cinematic elements from other films. Indeed, fans of Mob movies will undoubtedly recognize the name of Nicholas Pileggi as an associate producer. Pileggi, of course, wrote genre classics such as Goodfellas, Casino, and City Hall; and his craft is certainly sensed here. Yet any lack of filmmaking originality is successfully offset by the tremendously fascinating story of Lucas and his drug empire which ranges from the steaming streets of New York to the Poppy fields of Thailand. The outcomes of the primary participants also provide unexpected surprises that are very atypical for this sort of film. Despite the efforts of Universal it is highly unlikely that the Academy will allow a gangster film to win Best Picture two years in a row. And who knows, it may not be quite good enough anyway. Regardless, audiences are going to enjoy this picture and quote it for years to come. In the end, that’s pretty good.

By Chris Virnig