This film couldn't have been more obvious had it been wrapped arounda brick. It was about as subtle as two
hours of Jesse Jackson and Louis Farrakan debating the merits of indentured
servitude. Danny Roman (Samuel L. Jackson) is the pride of the Chicago
Police Department -- its number one hostage negotiator. He's saved the lives
of countless numbers of his fellow officers and innocent people.
Of course, black/white relations being what they are, the second a
couple of thin mints are missing from Commander Adam Beck's (David Morse)
box of girl scout cookies, Danny has to strip naked and submit himself to
body cavity searches.
Actually, Danny is set up by somebody within the department when
he's found next to the body of his dead partner right after his partner has
revealed some knowledge about an insurance fraud. Quicker than you can say
"Texas death row execution," Danny's looking at life in prison and all his
former buds in the department are melting down his medals. What's a black
man in a white man's world to do? Danny decides to take a few hostages
himself, including the scummy Inspector Niebaum (J.T. Walsh), and call in
the second best hostage negotiator in Chicago, Chris Sabian (Kevin Spacey),
to see if he can't get to the bottom of this conspiracy.
When director F. Gary ("Set it Off") Gray's film isn't being a
deceptive political statement, it's just another pathetic chapter in the
men's movement. His message: Men, be they black, white, or whatever, can
arrive at truth and inner peace, not through games involving the hides of
dead animals, but through nice, heart-to-heart chats. Here's what I say:
Spacey vs. Jackson: The Ultimate Fighting Death Match. Beer and pork rinds are
on me.
