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IN TOO DEEP
On the urban drug battlefield, it's Epps vs. Gen. Cool J
By Jack Garner (Aug. 25, 1999) -- From Serpico to Donnie Brasco, Hollywood has had a long-running fascination with undercover cops, with the drama usually spinning on their overly emotional entanglement with their targets. In Too Deep, with Omar Epps and LL Cool J, updates the concept to a black sensibility and the urban drug battlefield. Loosely adapted from a real-life Boston police case, it's an involving, well-acted saga, though flecked with occasional implausibilities. Australian director Michael Rymer and writer-producers Paul Aaron and Michael Henry Brown shift the action to Cincinnati, where rookie cop Jeff Cole (Epps) convinces his supervisor (Stanley Tucci) to assign him to undercover. After a few small-time busts that demonstrate his ability to blend into the urban underworld, Cole gets a juicy assignment. He's to infiltrate the gang led by powerful and dangerous drug lord Dwyane "God" Gittens (Cool J) and gather the evidence to bring him down. And as he did in Deep Blue Sea, Cool J steals the picture. His surprisingly complex portrait shows us the gangster's masquerade as a husband, father and community "good-will agency." But he never lets us forget the vicious cruelty at the core. Of all the rappers-turned-actors, Cool J might have the brightest future simply because he's willing to show a warmth that many of the others eschew in favor of edge and chip-on-the-shoulder attitude. Here Cool J takes it a step farther -- Gittens' sentimental side is a sham; he's a monster. And the actor projects it perfectly. Thus, In Too Deep never romanticizes Gittens' power or use of violence or the blight of drugs. Rymer avoids preaching, but he makes strong points in others ways. For example, he frequently puts young children uncomfortably close to the brutal behavior as a warning about the lessons being conveyed. Some of the dialogue is lost to street slang, but it's a trade-off to convey an urban reality. Too much suspension of disbelief is required, though, when Cole stays underground despite making early busts. Surely, his cover would be blown. Cincinnati's not that big that the crime world wouldn't know what's going on. A clumsy interlude in which Cole hides out in a country shack and meets a woman (Nia Long) seems designed solely to give the hero a love interest. But once Cole gets back on the street, the film is re-energized. Epps conveys Cole's daring and passion for justice and is given strong support, especially by experienced veterans Tucci (of Big Night) and Pam Greer (as Cole's police back-up). Rymer employs a gritty, grainy film style, with saturated colors, not unlike the look of Spike Lee's recent Son of Sam, as well as a prerequisite (but appropriate) rap soundtrack.
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