*** (out of ****)
Starring Denzel Washington, Ethan Hawke, Dr. Dre, Scott Glenn, Snoop Dogg, Tom Berenger, Harris Yulin, Cliff Curtis.
Directed by Antoine Fuqua and written by David Ayer.
2001 R
Sometimes a movie really surprises. In “Training Day” I knew I was going to at least appreciate Denzel Washington’s performance, if nothing else, but what came out of left field was Ethan Hawke’s ability to, if not match him, then at least come really close, and the sincerity with which the movie handled its central moral question. To be certain, “Training Day” is a glossy, mainstream Hollywood cop movie, but while we tend to think of those as empty-headed or sensational diversions, this one isn’t.
“Training Day” is set on Officer Jake Hoyt’s (Hawke) first day with an inner-city vice unit operated by Detective Alonzo Harris (Washington). This being a movie, more happens on Hoyt’s first day than would happen in a year to most cops. But “Training Day” is wisely thin on plot, at least until the third act when plot becomes necessary, and instead focuses on the rapidly forming relationship between two men who must trust their lives to each other. To say Alonzo is larger than life is an understatement; he has purposely constructed himself to be that way, and as the movie progresses—as he and Hoyt roam around bad neighborhood after bad neighborhood—we realize that he sees himself as judge, jury, and protector of the underprivileged urbanites over whom he towers. He wants to be respected not just for his power over those around him, but because he thinks of himself as a quasi-public servant or their elected official. Not surprisingly Alonzo likes toying with Jake, and knows that it is Jake’s ambition—to make a career and provide for this family—that will allow him to play Jake like a piano.
The lesson that Alonzo is intent on teaching Jake is that the little fish have to be let go in order for the big fish to be caught. Small-time dope dealers must be left on the street if they are to be used to ensnare their superiors. But what also becomes apparent as the day wears on is that some of Alonzo’s ends do not justify all of his means. We see the world that has made him, where judges do not issue arrest warrants without bribes, so Alonzo uses a fake warrant to steal the funds necessary from a drug dealer’s house. We admire some of his actions within the course of the day, but we can’t stand by all of them. The film is adept at establishing moral viewpoints and vulnerabilities early on; prayer candles burn in Hoyt’s bedroom and it is not without some poignancy that he rescues a girl from Immaculate Conception High School. But at Harris’ insistence Hoyt, like St. Peter, denies the title of Jesus freak. Hoyt denies a lot of things at Harris’ request, and the crux of the movie is just how much of his moral code Jake is willing to abandon to get the job done.
“Training Day” has many elements of the modern police drama: there’s a lot of roaming around in cars, there’s a lot of swearing and racial slurs, and there’s lots of tough talking. Also, of course, there’s a fair amount of gunplay, some of which I don’t think any cop would permit himself, no matter how much of a rogue he might be. But director Antoine Fuqua, whose “Replacement Killers” was a somewhat dull technical exercise in gunplay, is able to bring genuine suspense to sequences that rely on character and real dread as opposed to special effects. The film’s third act takes a few implausible turns—that everyone in the ‘hood would behave in such a complex way in unison is hard to believe and I can’t imagine they had a block meeting before hand—but just as Jake’s reprieve from danger near the end is more thematic than plausible, so are many of the other scenes near the end.
“Training Day’s” ultimate strength is in the power of its lead actors to convey two standards of morality at conflict with one another. Washington, who is so normally benevolent, should be lauded for playing such an intriguing, sometimes malevolent character; and so should Hawke, who builds his character from the ground up, and not from so many rookie cop clichés.
Finished May 12, 2002
Copyright 2002 Friday & Saturday Night