hat are you? Men or mice?” A police lieutenant (Harvey Keitel) drives his young sons (Brian McElroy and Frank Acciarito) to elementary school, exhibiting little patience for their bickering and excuses for nearly being late yet again. Immediately after they depart from his car, he takes a hit of cocaine, as if a regular routine to prepare for his day – as ordinary and perhaps ineffective as a cup of coffee. Even when he arrives to a double-homicide crime scene, he’s unfazed and virtually unconcerned. Instead, he’d rather discuss baseball and betting on teams (the NY/LA rivalry of the Mets versus the Dodgers in a rather consequential series), which is exactly what his coworkers are preoccupied with as well. Murder and crime barely register for him.

That evening, he meets with a drug dealer to conduct business – yet again, a customary transaction, this time to sell confiscated evidence. And he follows this up by visiting two prostitutes, where he loses a few hours to sex and vodka and dancing. To cap off the night, he swipes cash from two thieves, threatening to execute them at gunpoint in a convenience store, before visiting another girl (Zoe Lund) to partake in additional narcotics. It’s entirely likely that he’s altogether unaware of how he ends up back at his house on his couch the following morning (as with every morning, often in bizarre locations), where his children wander about with various toys in hand.

To say that he’s a bad lieutenant is an understatement; this portrayal clearly depicts a lawman with a total disregard for lawfulness. It’s a raw, frank, wholehearted performance, even if it’s gritty and grotesque. The subject matter is grim and the characters all appear to be varying degrees of antagonists, but Keitel gives it his all; he’s surprisingly authentic in a role of transgressions and corruptions and abuses. Curiously, this cop’s career doesn’t seem to be in question; the implication might be that everyone in his precinct is just as shady and despicable. As if the antithesis of crime thrillers, this character study and drama isn’t interested much in solving a case; rather, it’s content with studying the lead persona’s disinterest in sleuthing and utmost dedication to personal gratifications.

With controversial director Abel Ferrara at the helm, violence is constant and graphic, as is drug use (a needle scene is queasily protracted; “that’s a beautiful vein”), full frontal male nudity (and female nakedness to match), the rape of a nun (including sexual assault with a crucifix), and other uncommon elements of visual edginess and atrocities (the film garnered a rare NC-17 rating). Colorful language is also abundant. Contrastingly, there’s plenty of religious imagery – from church props to rites to artistic shots of Christ suffering on the cross – as if to reinforce the notion that spiritual institutions are but playgrounds for hypocrisy and vileness in the hands of a filmmaker out to show gutsy realism and to offend (a bookie stooge even goes by the name Jesus).

Every vice and sin is on display as the unnamed policeman navigates his way through the tawdry underbelly and the squalid surface of New York – each indistinguishable from the other. The film is something of an experiment, aiming to unveil a pointed downfall, though the extreme antihero’s arc is never one of change. He’s a horrible person, destined to meet a horrible fate (whether or not it’s in this specific episode). It may be atypical in its vivid unpleasantries, but this production isn’t particularly entertaining; its presentation of cops and crimes isn’t as original as it is merely boundary-pushing. Years prior, this tale was better told; years later, it will be far less shocking. “No one can kill me. I’m blessed.”

– Mike Massie