Inherent right from the title, 1992 certainly has large ambitions. Director Ariel Vromen’s latest film aims to be both a gritty crime story and a charged social-political drama, combining heist thrills and racial tension during the events of April 29th, 1992, the date of the riots in Los Angeles in the wake of the Rodney King verdict. “Has” is the operative word because despite a solid cast including the late Ray Liotta, 1992 achieves neither of its genres’ thrills particularly well nor can it mesh them together effectively.
Centering both halves of its well-trodden story around family, 1992 essentially becomes a conflict between a pair of fathers and sons. Tyrese Gibson, in grizzled serious mode compared to his Fast & Furious role, plays recent ex-con and struggling father Mercer, who is juggling his time between work at the local metals plant and raising his teen son Antoine (Christopher Ammanuel). In the background, comments and archival footage establish the inevitable Rodney King verdict and ensuing aftermath while Mercer and Antoine clash over ideology and navigate the chaotic streets. For a film that so heavily focuses on that period and situation, the city of Los Angeles feels incredibly small and practically nonexistent – about the size of a few streets and one flaming car – despite a script that’s aiming to be akin to Bigelow’s Detroit. A tense traffic stop by cops is 1992 at its most pointed and even that sequence barely impacts beyond Ammanuel’s emotional performance in the moment.
Ray Liotta’s criminal father Lowell exists as the complete opposite of Gibson: a bastard of a father and a ruthless man, oozing disdain for his son Riggin (a very bland Scott Eastwood). The latter makes the decision to rob a plant for millions worth of platinum, leading to a bog-standard crime plot in which Vromen keeps reminding the audience of much better films such as Michael Mann’s Thief. As a crime story, 1992 doesn’t fair any better when it’s trying to be a charged perspective into the righteous anger that erupted that night. Unfolding with leaden pacing and the flat tension-less direction, the build-up to and execution of the crew’s platinum heist is only energized by jarring violence and when it inevitably crosses narrative path with Mercer. The final act finds space for a few average action sequences – a fight here, a chase there, gunfights, intimidating standoffs – but too little too late.
Yes, the action only arrives in the final act because this 96 minute movie sure takes its time trudging towards reaching the point where Liotta’s crew clashes with Gibson. Spending nearly an hour following the two plots separately could’ve worked if either one lived up to their ambitions or inspirations. There’s a promising premise just barely glinting through, just enough to perhaps make one wonder what this story could’ve been with a more engaging protagonist or less bland direction, or allowing the genre-blend to breathe over a longer time.
As it is, 1992 strives to live up to its title and its evocations of the Rodney King verdict. Unfortunately, that minimalist name ends up reflecting the movie as a whole: uninspired; simple; basic; dull; to the point and nothing else besides that.
Photo courtesy of Lionsgate
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