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Liotta shows
evidence of greatness in 'Narc'
By David Elliott
MOVIE CRITIC
January 10, 2003
Hey, I can talk and eat!"
says Ray Liotta, preparing to wolf down a big burger in his San Diego suite
while putting forth the good, grim news about his movie "Narc."
Good, since the film
is good. Grim, since the film is very grim.
"Narc," which opens today,
casts Liotta, 47, as a Detroit narcotics detective and powder keg named
Henry Oak. He bleeds inwardly about a dead partner and makes other people
bleed outwardly. In one of the most potently violent yet emotionally conflicted
police movies, he tests the wiles and nerves of a new partner, Nick Tellis
(Jason Patric).
Even packing in lunch,
it's obvious that Liotta is back to trim after loading Oak's weight onto
his large frame. His crystal blue gaze, icily suspicious in the movie,
now has the friendlier intensity that first made Liotta stand out of the
acting pack. His voice makes you think of a hub cap gladly smacking a curb
– it's the ear-grab street speech of an adopted Jersey lad (born in Newark,
raised in Union).
Told that he is almost
not visibly himself in the role, Liotta swallows, smiles, laughs:
"Yeah, people are not
recognizing me! The director said to have a goatee and just look 'different,'
but that was too arbitrary. So I broke the whole This guy lost his wife;
he's obsessed about this case, and I figure that changed his looks. So
I put a lot of makeup under my eyes, gained weight, shaved my hairline
back, got into the hulking brute thing."
Liotta took a chance
on barely known director Joe Carnahan's script and film, not because "I
had seen his 'Blood, Guts, Octane and Bullets,' though it was good, a nice
first effort shot on weekends, and that's admirable. But this was a lot
more. Reminded me of those '70s movies like 'French Connection' and 'Serpico.'
The script just hammered me, and that twist at the end I didn't see coming
at all.
"I started crying, because
now I understood the guy. What he did, though he's corrupt, is out of love.
Oh my God, I thought. And when people see it, they are stunned, too. He's
a brute but a human being. He was such a good cop and he got so sick about
what was going on, it's killing him."
Liotta, despite some
fumbling career moves like "Corrina, Corrina," has not lost the appetite
that made him special in Martin Scorsese's "GoodFellas." "I have always
felt that in acting the one who peels the deepest wins," he says, and "I
could take a chance on this because things were looking up for me. I had
done some films that weren't getting the play I wanted, then suddenly I
got into 'Hannibal' and 'Blow' and 'Heartbreakers,' and because of that,
of being seen again, I was sort of 'protected' to do a risky picture like
this. Plus it's just a great part. Had to do it."
With Liotta producing,
they filmed for 27 days in Toronto, using its meanest junkyard blocks for
Detroit. Budget, only $3 million. And then, "two weeks in, the promised
budget stopped coming. We weren't getting paid, including me and Joe and
Jason. The crew threatened to leave. So we were on the phone every night
begging, we couldn't afford to break the momentum of this movie, it's too
intense and the camera guy finally had the hand-held thing down. Man, it
got rough."
The crisis was so acute
that, "We couldn't get dailies, didn't see the film we shot until five
months after the shoot. You know, the fact that we weren't getting paid
really ticked me off. And being lied to, that was fuel, too, for the energy
I needed, like for the last, 25-minute showdown scene where the energy
is kept up so damn high."
For the actor, Carnahan
"didn't much remind me of Marty (Scorsese, "GoodFellas" director) except
in his love of movies, his wanting to make an imprint. Joe has, like Marty,
that uncompromising, bleep-'em attitude. And when he shot that incredible
first scene with the lady and the baby and it's so fast and raw, I knew
he would do the film only his way."
With its sustained hard-press
opening and its corrupt cop at the center, "Narc" inevitably stirs buff
memories of Orson Welles' "Touch of Evil," and it is startling to hear
that practiced hard guy Liotta has "never seen that one. You know, somebody
asked if Oak was patterned after that guy Welles played, and Joe said yeah,
but I didn't really get that."
He feels protective of
Carnahan, soon to make a film with Harrison Ford: "Joe's challenge now
is not to get too seduced. The buzz on this was so big after Sundance,
and we got calls from Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty and others. Joe
has to decide if he wants to be a gun-for-hire or do his own thing, like
the book he wants to film about (drug lord) Pablo Escobar.
"There's this sorta Bel
Air circuit, where they go into their private screening rooms and watch
a film with certain friends. And the buzz starts. (Producer) Arnold Koppelson
gave our film to Sherry Lansing of Paramount, who's married to William
Friedkin, who then said it's the best cop picture he's ever seen – this
guy made 'French Connection'! And this serious dude tells that to Joe,
and then Paula Wagner sees it and shows it to partner Tom Cruise, then
we got a call from Tom saying he'd do anything to help us."
The Cruise-Wagner link
flexed the muscle to let the film's makers gain ownership and win a distribution
deal: "No strings attached. He just believed in the movie. So we went from
not being paid to being the hot toast."
Since he played another
Henry, named Hill, in "GoodFellas," Liotta has not quite cashed the fat
check of stardom some predicted. He won praise as Sinatra in a Rat Pack
TV movie, made the forgettable "Unforgettable," remembers "seven locations
in Thailand with an elephant" for "Operation Dumbo Drop," but now with
actress wife Michelle Grace – they live in L.A. – seems to have found new
momentum.
"I wanted to get more
pro-active with my career. I wasn't that crazy about some of the stuff
I was getting, so I formed a production company with my wife and our partner
Diane Nabatoff. It's called Tiara Blu. Why? I have no idea. My wife came
up with it; I said 'Fine.' And I changed agents. Then I got 'Narc.' "
And since his wife was
once married to a pro ballplayer "and knows how to be a baseball wife,
we are filming this HBO series 'Baseball Wives.' For 13 episodes to come
on after 'Sex and the City' ... and I've just done 'Identity' with John
Cusack and Alfred Molina, about 10 people at a hotel outside Vegas, and
people start dying. And I've found a sweet story about a street guy who
plays secretly the violin, it's a romance really."
As for his "Narc" being
harshly truthful – that is, violent and visceral – the star checks off
the issue as he polishes off his burger: "Well, that is what these guys
do. Nothing Hollywood about it. It should be seen by people who like this
sort of movie."
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