First, I like thrillers. I like Karl Urban too. I also like the walking caricature that has replaced Al Pacino for the past 25 years or so. A mix like this ought to be the guilty pleasure of the year, and don’t get me wrong, while the ride is going, Pacino’s new film Hangman is decent enough entertainment. Unfortunately, there is a little too much suspension of disbelief (and a few too many last-minute explanations) for Hangman to be anything more than a “fun, but forgettable” film.
Here is normally where I list the movie’s good points, with the negative later. But the bad needs to be discussed first…while it is possible many will compare this film to Se7en (1995)—a game being played, a young and an old detective caught up in the killer’s scheme, among others—the elephant in the room that needs to be addressed the most is that the Hangman is not only supposed to be brilliant, but apparently also psychic. It’s one thing to place clues for the detectives to find and figure out with little to no time to save the next victim from their fate; it’s another when the clues he leaves only work at the exact time he needs them to…and this happens every single time. Luck doesn’t even begin to describe how easily the Hangman evades everything the police throw at him, and how sometimes the plot only moves forward when someone does something especially stupid. This is even more noticeable once we learn who the Hangman is; he doesn’t exactly seem like the evil genius the movie has been setting him up to be (and the ludicrous reasons for his actions, but to say more than that would be giving it away).
But really, who came for plot? The real draw of Hangman is not whether it outshines any classic thriller out there, but just how much fun Al Pacino is to watch in this. Well, the long and short is he does not disappoint. Sadly, the hope that he would be out of control, wacky Pacino is dashed following a hilarious opening scene in which he chews as much scenery as he can (who doesn’t love a man who ignores a bomb threat just because the perp dinged up the side of his classic car?), but while Detective Archer is not particularly fleshed out, Pacino still plays him with a quiet dignity that shows that, yes, hiding somewhere in his closet is an Academy Award. Urban doesn’t get to do much more than play the straight man, but Urban somehow remains likeable in everything he does, and the two get along just fine here. The biggest surprise out of all this is Snow, who plays a reporter who is not only not an annoying stereotype, but shockingly helpful to the story. Of course, again suspension of disbelief must be put in play as she is constantly allowed to wander all over crime scenes without gloves (or much supervision), but still, she offers pleasant relief from the usual “in your face, attention-seeking” miscreant that usually dominate these kinds of movies.
Another nice touch is the Georgia scenery. Unfortunately, other than mentioning the name Monroe, only locals or people who watch the end credits will have any idea where the movie takes place, because it doesn’t take time to tell you (this might lead to unintentional humor as viewers familiar with Pacino may wonder why he is talking with a thick southern drawl). That aside, there are some genuinely beautiful shots in this movie, with nice usage of color. Nice visuals may not hide all the problems a movie has, but they can certainly go a long way in leaving a good impression.
In the end, Hangman is a lot like eating an entire box of knock-off store brand cookies; it looks the same as the name brand, and there’s nothing wrong with it, but halfway through, you start thinking you would’ve been better off just spending your time and money on the real thing. You won’t walk out of it angry as it has some good moments, but you’ll probably spend most of it thinking that there are movies that have done this before, and better.
Seth Paul
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