In a time when it seems that every other movie makes some claim to being a film noir, L.A. Confidential is the real thing–a gritty, sordid tale of sex, scandal, betrayal, and corruption of all sorts (police, political, press–and, of course, very personal) in 1940s Hollywood. The Oscar-winning screenplay is actually based on several titles in James Ellroy’s series of chronological thriller novels (including the title volume, The Big Nowhere, and White Jazz)–a compelling blend of L.A. history and pulp fiction that has earned it comparisons to the greatest of all Technicolor noir films, Chinatown. Kim Basinger richly deserved her Supporting Actress Oscar for her portrayal of a conflicted femme fatale; unfortunately, her male costars are so uniformly fine that they may have canceled each other out with the Academy voters: Russell Crowe, Guy Pearce, Kevin Spacey, and James Cromwell play LAPD officers of varying stripes. Pearce’s character is a particularly intriguing study in Hollywood amorality and ambition, a strait-laced “hero” (and son of a departmental legend) whose career goals outweigh all other moral, ethical, and legal considerations. If he’s a good guy, it’s only because he sees it as the quickest route to a promotion.
