BY NICK ROGERS
ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT WRITER
THE STATE JOURNAL-REGISTER SPRINGFIELD, IL

“Mystic River” is a moody, evocative masterpiece, a compelling whodunit merged with stunning drama about the erosion of a neighborhood and its people.

In that regard, it’s much like “L.A. Confidential,” not a surprise considering the films share screenwriter Brian Helgeland. But instead of snappy pop music, seductive glitz and snazzy dressers, we have a somber piano theme, gray Boston skylines and everyday guys.

But they’re not dealing with everyday demons, as “Mystic River” masterfully shows. The tragic event that opens the film has overt implications for one character, but how long its ripple effect will last is the lingering, sobering question.

That event is the abduction of a child by two pedophiles posing as policemen, busting the chops of a trio of Beantown boys for scratching their names in cement. Dave, Jimmy and Sean all are unnerved by the two men, but Dave is the one who they cart away. After four days of torture, Dave escapes, but it’s clear that even when he returns, neither he nor Jimmy and Sean will go unaffected.

The film flashes forward into the trio’s middle age. Jimmy (Sean Penn) is an ex-convict trying to go straight by running a corner grocery store. Sean (Kevin Bacon) is a Boston homicide detective separated from his wife. And we know Dave (Tim Robbins) has a wife, child and, presumably, a job, but he hulks his shrug-shouldered frame around the neighborhood all day.

The three are unexpectedly thrown back into each other’s lives with the brutal murder of Jimmy’s 19-year-old daughter Katie, born from his first, now-deceased wife. On the same night she’s murdered, Dave stumbles into his home at 3 a.m., covered with blood that’s not his. Sean and his partner (Laurence Fishburne) become assigned to the case.

“Mystic River” finds its first touch of brilliance in the first act, as Eastwood zeroes in on the intensity of the search for Katie’s body. It is not a quick discovery but a prolonged nightmare.

Every police procedural element of the story is smoothly navigated, and never loses sight of its characters. (An interrogation scene between Fishburne, Robbins and Bacon is almost transcendent.) Red herrings are placed carefully throughout, with the truth dropped along the way at the exact right times.
Around her, Eastwood perfectly choreographs the dance of sadness that unfolds between Penn and Robbins’ characters.

Jimmy feels remorse at Katie’s death and ruminates at length that he cosmically caused it somehow. Unable to find catharsis through Sean’s investigation, he launches his own interrogation and discovers he’s defined more by his jail time than he knows.

Penn, rarely anything less than brilliant, is outstanding here, a man with whom we can sympathize but also feel sketchy about. Every scene when he talks of his memories with Katie is charged with the unpredictable rage of a man who could go off at any second. His work in a confrontational scene with his father-in-law is perfect.

But in a film filled with fantastic acting (Laura Linney and Marcia Gay Harden appear in supporting roles), none is better than Robbins. Doddering around in a daze, Dave finally implodes with the rage of recalling the psychological roots of his problems.
Forever robbed of his childhood and, subsequently, his life, Robbins is amazing as a man who has lived the façade he thinks he must, but inside knows it’s all empty. It’s an astounding performance rendered heartbreaking by his final scene.

“Mystic River’s” convoluted story plays out with explosive revelations in its resolution, the exceptional suspense of two plotlines unfolding at once.

The real triumph is that while we are fascinated with the particulars of the story, we feel the shame, awkwardness, fears and cosmic fate that bounce off each character. Eastwood’s omniscience as a director is dramatically rewarding, not restricting.

As tough, lean and relentless as its director’s onscreen persona, “Mystic River” leaves the specifics open-ended, but not the frightening finality that the film’s vicious cycle will continue. This is one of the year’s best.

Nick Rogers can be reached at 217-747-9587 or nick.rogers@sj-r.com.