August 9, 2002 | Chalk it up as one of the season’s more amusing ironies of megaplex counter-programming. On the same weekend that up-and-comer Vin Diesel is launched as the next great action hero in the fast-and-furious XXX, grizzled veteran Clint Eastwood arrives with a far more traditional yet equally entertaining thriller. Blood Work – Eastwood’s 44th film as an above-the-title star, and his 23rd as a director – exemplifies an old-fashioned, no-frills professionalism that could be described as Hollywood classicism.
There is an involving and reasonably intelligent plot, a strong sense of unhurried but purposeful narrative momentum – and next to nothing in the way of meaningless stylistic flourishes. And if that makes it sound too meat-and-potatoes prosaic, let me quickly add that it’s one of the better cops-and-killers melodramas to hit theaters this year.
The beauty part is, Blood Work doesn’t rely on the type of rapid-fire, razzle-dazzle editing that’s too often used these days to generate excitement or, more likely, camouflage the director’s shortcomings. That alone should be cause for gratitude from audiences conditioned to being pummeled by big-screen crime stories.
On both sides of the camera, Eastwood evidences his customary skill and authority, along with random flashes of wry humor and thoughtful melancholy. Like most of his recent movies, Blood Work is infused with a profound appreciation for the difficulties faced by any mortal, heroic or otherwise, who wants to remain vital and productive even after aging [taking] [takes] its inevitable toll on instincts and abilities. This underlying theme is shoved to the forefront during the movie’s opening minutes, as FBI profiler Terrence McCaleb (Eastwood) is felled by a heart attack during a strenuous foot chase after a serial killer. McCaleb gets off a few shots before he loses consciousness, but it’s time to retire and he knows it.
Flash ahead two years, and we find McCaleb looking even frailer and more vulnerable while recovering from a heart transplant. His doctor (Anjelica Huston) wants him to take it easy, and with good reason. (She says, in so many words, “Hey, big fella, you’ve only had the new ticker for 60 days! Lighten up!”) So McCaleb moseys on back to his houseboat in San Pedro Harbor, ready to enjoy, or at least endure, his golden years.
But then along comes Graciella Rivers (Wanda De Jesus), a sternly beautiful Latina woman who wants McCaleb find the masked convenience-store bandit who killed her sister. McCaleb politely rebuffs her. But she piques his interest by revealing that her late sister provided the heart that’s now keeping him alive.
One thing leads to another, and McCaleb – slowly but tenaciously, with breaks for recuperative naps and scheduled medicine-taking – begins a private investigation, much to the chagrin of an unfriendly L.A. cop (Paul Rodriguez) on the case. Given his delicate condition, McCaleb must rely on Buddy (Jeff Daniels), the slacker who lives in the houseboat next to his, to serve as his driver. But neither age nor infirmity diminishes his deductive powers: Much to his dismay, McCaleb finds the serial killer he thought had died has taken drastic steps to resume their cat-and-mouse game.
There isn’t an abundance of surprises in Blood Work. (I must admit, I guessed the identity of the serial killer while reading the press notes before a preview screening.) But the movie is satisfyingly suspenseful, and there’s a host of well-cast players in vividly written supporting roles. In addition to those already noted, Tina Lifford merits special mention for her sly underplaying as Jaye Winston, an African-American cop who’s very helpful to McCaleb. A nice touch: The movie hints that she and McCaleb once had a thing going on, but neither says anything about it.
Eastwood doesn’t exploit the violence of two shootings, but he doesn’t shy away from indirectly rendering the full horror in video surveillance tapes. And that in turn provides credible motivation. When McCaleb describes the killings as “hateful and evil,” he sounds genuinely outraged. He may be retired as a profiler, but his heart still is in the right place.
