The Lincoln Lawyer (2011)

Its story isn’t exactly ripped from the headlines, but The Lincoln Lawyer–Matthew McConaughey’s first film outing in more than two years–plays more like an early ’80s late-night crime thriller than a big-budget feature film.

Let’s start with the opening credits. Names like Ryan Phillippe, Marisa Tomei and William H. Macy fly in from off screen to frame various interior shots of a big, black Lincoln Town Car and exterior shots of a sun-drenched but gritty Los Angeles. All the while, a distinctly 1970s funk tune plays in the background like some forgotten reject from the Shaft soundtrack. There’s nothing wrong with this opener per se; It just feels dated. Even the oft-mocked procedural crime dramas on television haven’t opened with so much cheese since Spenser was for hire.

Like Spenser, The Lincoln Lawyer is based on a popular series of novels. This one, by bestseller Michael Connelly, tells the story of seedy but affable L.A. defense attorney, Mick Haller (McConaughey). He does most of his lawyering from the back seat of his chauffeured luxury car, hence the moniker. And his clients are a parade of hookers, poor Latin kids, and weed-growing bikers (including one played with intimidating gruffness by tall drink of water, country singer turned Celebrity Apprentice hero Trace Adkins). That is until bail bondsman Val (John Leguizamo) hooks Mick up with rich, pretty boy Louis Roulet (Phillippe)

That suits Mick just fine, as he’s a pay-to-play kind of guy, whose defense of his clients is only as rigorous as their ability to keep him enough cash to buy all the booze his liver can handle. But, lest we lose interest, Mick also has a heart, soul, and conscience, namely his assistant district attorney ex-wife Maggie (Tomei), a young daughter, and a fear of actually having to defend an innocent man.

That fear kicks into high gear when it starts to look as though pouty-lipped Roulet hasn’t committed the crime–a brutal rape and attempted murder of a call girl–of which he’s been accused. As the story unfolds, it also seems that an earlier client, one of the aforementioned poor Latin kids (Michael Peña), is serving a life sentence for a call-girl murder that bears a striking similarity to his newest case. Having forced the kid to cut the deal, Mick enlists his private investigator Frank (Macy) to dig up the truth. Intrigue and danger ensue.

To be sure, it’s a fascinating premise for some midsummer poolside reading, but The Lincoln Lawyer hasn’t translated quite as well onto the big screen. As directed by Brad Furman, all of the elements of the courtroom thriller genre are present, including everything from the good-looking but not quite trustworthy client to the last-minute surprise witness. But unlike the very best in the genre (for my money, 1996’s Primal Fear), this by-the-numbers film doesn’t offer much in the way of real suspense or innovative film-making. Furman does try to add something new by incorporating extreme close-up zooms, washed out colorscapes, and just a touch of shaky hand-held camerawork, but to no avail.

The 1990s, where McConaughey got his start, were a breeding ground for this movie genre. In fact, it’s hard to look back on that decade of filmmaking without thinking of John Grisham, the patron saint of courtroom thrillers. And then came Law & Order, which in its 20-year run presented pretty much every imaginable variation on the theme. Perhaps that’s why I couldn’t get the stale taste out of my mouth while watching The Lincoln Lawyer. About an hour into the film, I kept thinking Jack McCoy would’ve had this all wrapped up by now.

That’s no dig against McConaughey, who delivers a fine performance. His smug charm and slow-as-molasses drawl have actually weathered well since his earliest courtroom forays in A Time to Kill and Amistad. After all these years of seeing shirtless paparazzi photos of him and watching him dumb it down in terrible romantic comedies (he still owes me money for The Wedding Planner), it was nice to see McConaughey cover up his abs of steel and be a legitimate actor again. It doesn’t hurt that he looks even more like a “movie star” than he did back then.

Phillippe, Tomei, Macy and the rest all deliver solid performances, as well. My one bone to pick in the acting department was with Josh Lucas as the prosecuting attorney. From the blue eyes and dimples to the Southern twang (Arkansas to McConaughey’s Texas), he’s got a lot in common with his opposing council. That the two could easily play brothers can’t have been a casting coincidence. Had Lucas played up the similarities–or the differences–between the two men, he might have been a more worthy adversary to watch instead of a throwaway foil.

Still, The Lincoln Lawyer is a perfectly serviceable film that is entertaining enough, if about 20 minutes too long. I’m sure they’ll remedy that by the time it makes it into heavy rotation on late-night cable.