Who said buddy cop movies should be fun? Shane Black has a lot to answer for when it comes to making the fuzz funny, with his distinct brand of chalk-and-cheese banter inflecting the extrajudicial antics of those who serve and protect for decades after his heyday. Echoes of that can be seen in the work of Joe Carnahan too, the wise-ass writer behind pew-pew blast-’em-ups like Smokin’ Aces, Copshop and (most applicably of late) Bad Boys for Life, who has made a strongly abrasive name for himself as a reliable disciple at the altar of Black. Yet it wasn’t always that way, demonstrated with unfashionable, uncompromising fury in his breakout hit, Narc, an underrated gem in the pantheon of buddy cop flicks that combines the caffeine-fuelled energy of Lethal Weapon with the unrelenting grimness of Se7en, now restored and sharpened by the ever-brilliant Arrow Films.
Jason Patric is disgraced narcotics detective Nick Tellis, on advisory leave after a hideous perp chase leaves a tragic casualty in its wake. His guilt-ridden existence is interrupted by a chance at redemption: solve the dead-end case centring on the murder of fellow undercover narc, Michael Calvess (Alan van Sprang), and secure himself the stable desk job to ease the stressed-out mind of his long-suffering wife (Krista Bridges). And what would a knotty mystery be without a hard-ass partner to go with it, and soon enters the grizzled, volatile Det. Lt. Henry Oak (Ray Liotta on very fine form, definitively putting the ‘git’ in ‘grit’), a close friend of Calvess with a burning vendetta against his unfound killers. It’s hardly long before Tellis’ one-last-job hopes become a frightening reality as a pitch-dark web of deceit and corruption pulls into view, leading he and Oak into a murky moral world as grimy as their beat on the mean streets of Detroit.
It’s quite the feat that Narc starts as it means to go on and makes good on its promise until the very end. Its frazzled opening foot-chase through the greyed-out backyards and playgrounds of a Detroit project shows Carnahan’s remarkable control of chaos, utilising severely propulsive handheld camerawork in an almost imperceptible but undeniably impressive long take, throwing you headfirst into the nauseating world of a cop on the edge. Otherwise, there’s razor blade-sharp editing that is authentically disorientating without destroying the story, ranging from an unfortunate hypothetical explanation of how a cadaver lost his head to a marvellous Rashomon-style conclusion that deepens the drama instead of neutering its cumulative power. It’s a film of well-worn scene concepts on the page that are delivered with maximum kineticism and immersion. Hereby unshackling DoP Alex Nepomniaschy after a wildly uneven career during the 90s that saw him do everything from the eerily-composed Safe to the comfy high-school tones of Never Been Kissed. By the time the final cut to black nails the story down to a brutal conclusion, it’s a relief to be out of these cold, fetid environments, even if the stunning clarity of Arrow’s marvellous 4K restoration is hard to resist.
Put it up on your Arrow shelf next to Cruising or Carlito’s Way and you’ll have the hardest collection in the land.
Also pulled into focus are the remarkable performances from Patric and Liotta. Both are actors famous for their early work; Patric still is probably best known for The Lost Boys, while Liotta’s Henry Hill in Goodfellas is as definitive as roles get for an actor. Yet here, they are playing brilliantly against type and chameleonically delving into their respective roles. Patric’s Tellis is a man committed to the undercover grind, rarely taking off his Serpico hat and sporting a brilliant My Name is Earl moustache. Liotta sees his facial hair game and raises him a Sean Dyche disc beard, and seems so inextricably fused into his trenchcoat that you can smell the days of stake-out coffees and sweat patches lifting off him. Together, they have a snappy combative chemistry that balances professional respect and personal frustration, never veering towards forced comedy and instead retaining a gritted-teeth intensity that appropriately conveys the unpleasant subject matter Carnahan is tackling.
The genius of Carnahan’s screenplay lies in how close it plays its cards to its chest. It is admittedly difficult to see exactly how this mystery will unravel itself from the get-go, drip feeding seemingly inconsequential details behind character backstory moments and profane banter until the dam breaks, barrelling forward to an expository but satisfying revelation that does feel a little like Carnahan scrambling for coherency, yet packing its last punch with tragedy and pathos. In 2025, this extremely 2002 view of complex cops and paper-thin perps can play a little one-sided, yet despite its lack of diversity upfront, its racial politics ring true in the myopic worldview of its white protagonists. Its penultimate image is one illustrating the horrifying consequences of this corrupt pandemonium for the African American community, and calls to mind the surprising depth of S. Craig Zahler’s more recent Dragged Across Concrete, another film that seems to frontload its power-abusing white cops yet eventually sneaks in significant empathy for the minorities oppressed at the narrative’s edges. Supporting performances from John Ortiz and Busta Rhymes are attention-grabbing and racked with a sudden panicked pain that makes Narc urgent in ways you might not expect, and all the more resonant 23 years later.
Carnahan would rarely get his hands this dirty again; while his films have retained an edge to their energy, they have gotten more and more disposable as time has gone on. Narc remains his granite-solid calling card, a tricky middle-ground between the vulgarity of Michael Bay and the poetry of Michael Mann, set against a strung-out hell-scape that even William Friedkin may have thought twice about entering. And as for Patric and the late, great Liotta, this is as good a showcase for their work as any, fully immersed in the grime of a criminal underworld few can authentically exist in. Previously a gem of the type of thing you might find on your uncle’s dusty DVD shelf, Arrow’s new limited edition set has breathed new life into this mid-brow bit of brilliance, allowing significant reappraisal from Carnahan, Nepomniaschy and other creatives behind the film on a second disc of bonus features that are catnip for fans of crime and noir. Put it up on your Arrow shelf next to Cruising or Carlito’s Way and you’ll have the hardest collection in the land.
NARC IS OUT NOW ON ARROW VIDEO BLU-RAY
