{"id":15819,"date":"2021-01-28T09:00:00","date_gmt":"2021-01-28T17:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/?p=15819"},"modified":"2024-03-02T21:17:13","modified_gmt":"2024-03-03T05:17:13","slug":"review-the-little-things","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/review-the-little-things\/","title":{"rendered":"Review: The Little Things<\/i>"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The devil is in the details in The Little Things<\/em>, a serial killer thriller devoid of any of the (ahem) fleshing out that makes these types of films worth watching. As disgraced former detective Joe Deacon, Denzel Washington continually warns that it\u2019s the \u201clittle things\u201d of the title that get criminals caught, but John Lee Hancock\u2019s movie is guilty of the same sin. The writer-director pays almost no attention to the elements that could have elevated the film into something worth experiencing, instead of the resulting two-plus hours of pointless gloom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hancock is better known for making the types of blandly pleasant movies<\/a> that I feel comfortable recommending to my meat-and-potatoes-loving parents: 2002\u2019s The Rookie<\/em>, 2009\u2019s The Blind Side<\/em>, and 2013\u2019s Saving Mr. Banks.<\/em> The Little Things<\/em> is something grimmer, despite sharing its name with the feel-good website<\/a>. With its blood splatters and nude murder victims, this film has more in common with the gnarlier crime thrillers of the \u201890s than the filmmaker\u2019s past work. It wants to play in the same space as 1991\u2019s The Silence of the Lambs<\/em>, 1995\u2019s Seven<\/em>, and even lesser titles like 1999\u2019s Washington vehicle The Bone Collector<\/em>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

These comparisons make sense though: the film was written in the early \u201890s, before Hancock began working as a director. While it took decades to get made, The Little Things<\/em> is still set in October 1990, but there\u2019s little evidence of the era, beyond the presence of now-vintage cars and the lack of DNA evidence and cell phones. Composer Thomas Newman seems to have missed the memo too. The score sounds overly contemporary for the setting, and not in an interesting way. Winking \u201860s needle drops \u2014 Peggy March\u2019s \u201dI Will Follow Him\u201d plays while Deacon trails a suspect, Aaron\u2019s Neville\u2019s \u201cTell It Like It Is\u201d during a moment of truth \u2014 are better suited to a film with less of an otherwise dark tone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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After a briefly harrowing beginning that teases its villain, Hancock\u2019s screenplay introduces us to Washington\u2019s Deacon, a small-town cop who was meant for more than investigating the vandalism and other misdemeanors in Bakersfield, California. A pointless errand sends him back to Los Angeles, where he was effective on the LAPD, but most of his former coworkers now shun him for unknown reasons. While in L.A., he is drawn into a case that reminds Deacon of one that still haunts him from his time in the city. This time, a serial killer is leaving behind grisly crime scenes with female victims, echoing Deacon\u2019s last case. After some initial friction, rising star detective Jim Baxter (Rami Malek) asks Deacon for his insight into the so-far-fruitless investigation. The unlikely pair try to solve the murders before the killer strikes again \u2026 or Deacon\u2019s own cracks reopen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

With a trio of Oscar winners leading the cast \u2014 Washington, Malek, and Jared Leto as the squirm-inducing suspect Sparma \u2014 The Little Things<\/em> should at least be watchable, despite its unimpressive screenplay and direction. However, only Washington works here, imbuing the broken Deacon with more character than the script likely did. Malek is miscast as the straight-laced cop; he is the most boring person here, which is not what you expect of the Mr. Robot<\/em> actor. Leto certainly isn\u2019t boring as the crime buff under suspicion for the murders, but everything he does feels like an effort. He isn\u2019t helped by the film\u2019s heavy-handed characterization; if you miss Helter Skelter\u2019s <\/em>signature spine on Sparma\u2019s bookshelf, the true-crime classic shows up again later. His long, stringy haircut \u2014 or lack thereof \u2014 is what one expects of a Charles Manson devotee. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Little Things<\/em> alternates between hammering everything in, not trusting the audience to understand its intentions, and skipping over the connective tissue that would answer their questions. Whether supporting moments weren\u2019t in the script or were left on the cutting room floor, it feels like a lot is missing here beyond even the period details, despite the 127-minute running time. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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While The Little Things<\/em> never feels like a film set in 1990, its attitude toward gender is a throwback. The only real action done by the sole female cop with lines (Natalie Morales) is to screw up the case. As a coroner, actress Michael Hyatt gets a bit more to do, but the script doesn\u2019t develop her character. Instead, the most prominent women in the film are victims, whose only identifying features are the violence done to them and their naked bodies. With their female protagonists, similar ’90s films like The Silence of the Lambs<\/em> and The Bone Collector<\/em> appeared more progressive than The Little Things<\/em>, produced decades later. This movie has a message about how the endless violence wears on cops, but it only uses women as tools to tell that story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Little Things<\/em> slumps to its conclusion, with Washington doing his best to drag the film across the finish line all by himself. Its only success is cementing his status as one of the greatest living actors, here working with material that doesn\u2019t work as hard as he does. \"\"\/<\/p>\n\n\n\n

D+<\/strong><\/h1>\n\n\n\n

“The Little Things” opens in theaters and on HBO Max<\/a> Friday.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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