You see it, and can't help but remember: The Godfather. Dog Day Afternoon. Raging Bull. The Deer Hunter. De Niro and Pacino are iconic talents who have helped make dozens of movies legendary; if you are even a moderate fan of film from the 70s and 80s, the Righteous Kill poster is like a drug. It calls your name, and compels you to see it.
"The ten minute, on-screen scene these two shared in 1995's Heat was just a taste, baby. Pony up $3.99 for this redbox of kronic talent!"
(I doubt drug dealers have ever used the phrases "share" and "pony up," but go with me on it.)
The problem is, Righteous Kill is more Backdraft than Taxi Driver, more 88 Minutes than Scent Of A Woman. It's a formula movie with an obvious swerve.
Although De Niro and Pacino deliver some very good moments in this flick, the movie just can't be saved. The awe of watching these guys work together wears off after the first 30 minutes, when you realize there's still an hour to kill and you've already figured out the ending.
It's more than disappointing.