Rating: C-
Dir: Terry McDonough
Star: Gianni Capaldi, Samuel L. Jackson, Vincent Cassel, Kate Dickie
This seems largely to work on the principal that, if one brooding and tortured detective with issues is good, then three must be great. We begin with Dan Lawson (Jackson), a Chicago cop who drives about the city swigging from a bottle of whiskey. He gets notified that a series of grisly unsolved murders he investigated, have started up again. Only in Scotland, rather than Illinois. He heads to Edinburgh, and teams up with equally troubled policeman, DCI Glen Boyd (Capaldi, who also co-wrote the script). He and his wife have never recovered from the loss of their child. Put him together with Lawson, and it’s like the front row at a Morrissey concert.
But, wait! There’s more! For Lawson calls in his former partner, the curiously named Walker Bravo, played by Cassel. He appears tormented, simply as a result of being Vincent Cassel, which is more than enough trauma for anyone to endure. Quite how the obviously Gallic Bravo ended up working homicide in the Windy City, is largely hand-waved away. Oh, yeah. Lawson’s wife was a victim of the killings there, making it Very Personal. Boyd ends up getting a reason why the investigation is Very Personal for him as well. Cassel seems to be unmarried, which is kinda suspicious. Although he’s maybe just being considerate and wishing to avoid Very Personal complications. Looking at Boyd and Lawson, I can’t blame him for that.
I will admit that we did not see the final resolution incoming. On the other hand, I think you need to squint more than a little bit, in order for the answer to fit all the questions. A bigger problem is that it feels less like a movie, than an effort to cram every ScandiCrime trope into a single feature. Capaldi is trying, though seems to have a gun more than it feels most Scottish cops should (at least, not without a lot of paperwork). Jackson, and to a lesser degree Cassel, are doing the bare minimum. I’d not be surprised if Jackson was more interested in the golfing opportunities provided by the trip to Scotland. This, and Capaldi’s Celtic fandom, make cameo appearances.
I have to feel for Dickie, playing Boyd’s colleague Laura Kessler. She is her usual, reliable self, yet this feels the kind of role she could do in her sleep, as opposed, say, to something like Matriarch. John Hannah also shows up, presumably having bumped into Capaldi while doing lunch at Musso & Frank, and out of some kind of Celtic solidarity. It is definitely gorier than the typical Scottish film, with dismembered body parts scattered around the nation’s capital. Despite the contractually obligated shots of green scenery, there’s not much here selling the location. It’s better at providing employment for Scottish actors and technicians – I suppose it’s a worthy endeavour – than generating genuine Scottish atmosphere. You’ll get more local flavour from a can of Irn-Bru.