'Hollywood Homicide' falls flat

By Marshall Fine
The (Westchester, N.Y.) Journal News

HOLLYWOOD HOMICIDE. Rated PG-13. (Two Stars) Fair. Somewhere inside this routine action comedy is a funny story about two cops at a transitional moment in their careers, but it gets buried under a pile of car-chase cliches. Starring Harrison Ford, Josh Hartnett. Directed by Ron Shelton. Columbia Pictures. Rated PG-13 (profanity, violence, partial nudity). 111 minutes.

Interestingly, both "Hollywood Homicide" and the other film, "Dark Blue," were directed by Ron Shelton. But neither of them goes much further than to mirror some aspect of Ramparts, a still-unfolding story involving cops accused of planting evidence and weapons that may have tentacles into both the gang and rap communities.

Shelton, who co-wrote "Hollywood Homicide" with Robert Souza, slices off a small piece of that story in this film, about two police detectives investigating a shooting at a nightclub. But having invoked the ghost of Ramparts, Shelton abandons it — as he does the notion of a mystery story (because he reveals the killer 15 minutes into the film). Rather, "Hollywood Homicide" uses the murders as the backdrop for a buddy comedy, attempting to focus on the quirky cops rather than the mundane crime.

Shelton mixes what now passes for old Hollywood — Harrison Ford — with new: Josh Hartnett. They play the pair of homicide investigators, partners whose outside lives are impinging on their law enforcement careers.

Ford plays Joe Gavilan, multidivorced veteran who tries to keep his financial boat afloat by moonlighting as a real-estate speculator, buying and selling property. But he's got an unsold house that's eating him alive. Partner K.C. Calden (Hartnett) does part-time duty as a yoga instructor (mostly to meet girls), but admits to Joe that he wants to quit the force to be an actor.

Pulled into the investigation of shootings at a rap club, they find obvious suspects. But they're too distracted by their sidelines, and an internal affairs investigation into Joe's moonlighting doesn't help either. For good measure, the writers tack on a subplot involving K.C.'s long-dead father, a cop killed during an undercover drug buy gone wrong.

The script seems to be at its most buoyant when it's least interested in police matters. Joe, it turns out, is overextended on everything from back alimony to car payments, yet Shelton can't find ways to make this really funny. Nor can he do much with the very funny notion of Joe switching hats while questioning a suspect, trying to interest him in a piece of real estate.

Shelton ("Bull Durham," "White Men Can't Jump") and Souza easily could have crafted an offbeat but engaging story about these two cops and their side careers. But then there wouldn't be any excuse for explosions, car chases and shoot-'em-ups. Then it would have just been an unpredictable story about people, instead of a neatly schematic one about good guys and bad guys.

Ford and Hartnett have likable chemistry; it's nice to see Ford loosen up for a change, but one wishes he had better material. Lena Olin does what amounts to an extended cameo as Joe's girlfriend, a radio psychic. Bruce Greenwood is asked to stand around glowering, as an internal-affairs investigator with a grudge against Joe and the always terrific Keith David is given even less to do as their boss.

Somewhere inside "Hollywood Homicide" is an intriguing character comedy about two cops at a transitional moment in their careers. Too bad it got buried under a pile of action-movie cliches.

Rated PG-13 for profanity, violence, partial nudity.