Black & White

Black & White is a serviceable, straight-to-video film from 1999 that, while not being terrible, isn't much good, either. It has us presuppose that an L.A. cop could be a complete psychopath--something that I'm willing to go along with, but to a point.

Gina Gershon stars as that cop. We are introduced to her via Rory Cochrane, who is a rookie cop with a unflinching devotion to the Catholic church (how different this role is from the only other one I know him for--a stoner in Dazed and Confused). He is partnered with Gershon, whom he is told is the best cop on the force. She has some funny ideas about partnership--her first instruction to him is to take them to his house, to see how he decorates. Then she wants them both of them to strip, so they can stop wondering how they look naked. I wonder if this in the manual?

Meanwhile, there's a serial killer on the loose, who shoots victims in their left eye. Evidence suggests it's a cop, and then, when the detective on the case (Alison Eastwood) figures out that the four victims were all arrested by Gershon, she becomes the number-one suspect. Cochrane doesn't know what to think, given that he and Gershon have become lovers. Another detective, Ron Silver, who used to be Gershon's partner, pressures Cochrane to act as spy.

Directed by Yuri Zeltser, Black & White has an appropriately grungy look, and is largely set in neighborhoods you don't want to be in. As often is the case, I had a lot of problems with the flouting of actual police procedure, such as cops leaving their patrol cars without radioing in their location. A sergeant, played winningly by John Handy, seems to be channeling the viewer's reactions by frequently stating, "What the fuck is going on here?"