“State of Play”

Oh, how you'll miss us when we're gone.

And I'm not (just) talking about the fate of the republic -- and how much bad stuff bad guys will get away with when newspapers aren't around to report it.

I'm talking about what Hollywood will do when reporters aren't around to play the good guy.

Somehow, I feel certain that Clark Kent will always have a job at that great metropolitan newspaper known as the Daily Planet, but the imperiled state of newspaperdom these days makes newspaper movies an endangered species, too.

So, if "State of Play" represents a last hurrah for a venerable cinematic genre, at least it's a fitting farewell.

From "The Front Page" to "All the President's Men," reporters have served as compelling movie characters -- crafty crusaders ready, willing and able to blow the whistle on a variety of evildoers, from petty criminals to presidents.

Add dogged Cal McAffrey (Russell Crowe) to that list.

A veteran reporter at the Washington Globe, Cal's trying valiantly to soldier on despite his dinosaur status.

Which explains why his nose for news starts twitching when he looks into two apparently random shootings -- closely followed by the mysterious death of a young woman who worked as a researcher for rising-star Congressman Stephen Collins (Ben Affleck).

Naturally, there's more to the story. Much more.

Some of it involves Stephen's relationship with the now-dead researcher. Some of it involves a Congressional hearing Stephen's chairing, involving a private defense contractor in the Halliburton or Bechtel mold.

And some of it involves Cal's relationship with Stephen, his college roommate, and Stephen's college-sweetheart wife Anne (Robin Wright Penn).

Just to complicate matters further, Cal's testy editor (Helen Mirren) reminds him they're all under the gun thanks (or no thanks) to the newspaper's new number-crunching corporate owners. And, rather than working the story alone, Cal's saddled with a colleague: feisty blogger Della Frye (Rachel McAdams), who's more in tune with current journalistic trends but doesn't always understand the importance of time-tested techniques.

"State of Play" may have fun contrasting grizzled, seen-it-all Cal with bright-eyed, gung-ho Faye -- but it doesn't sidestep the crucial combat between old-school, just-the-facts journalism and the pressure to provide flashy, instant-info factoids.

Fittingly, director Kevin Macdonald ("The Last King of Scotland") maintains a straightforward approach, building taut-wire tension without flashy camera tricks or computerized effects.

That echoes the movie's inspiration: an acclaimed British miniseries written by Paul Abbott ("Touching Evil," "Cracker") and directed by David Yates (three "Harry Potter" movies -- and counting).

Screenwriters Matthew Michael Carnahan ("The Kingdom"), Tony Gilroy (the "Bourne" trilogy, "Michael Clayton") and Billy Ray ("Shattered Glass") convincingly shift the action from London to Washington, D.C. They also replace the original's apparent conspiratorial behemoth (big oil) with an even more topical one, the shadowy private defense contractor.

In reducing six hours' worth of twists and turns into a little more than two, however, they occasionally resort to headline-style speechifying that would prompt any real-life reporter to utter a derisive "Well, duuuh ..." (Or possibly something more profanity laden.)

And speaking of real-life reporters, we don't all meet sources in ominous parking garages, stash whiskey bottles in our desk drawers or gobble junk food while driving. (Although the ability to eat while driving -- or drive while eating -- remains an essential journalistic skill.)

Yet every time "State of Play" threatens to sink into a swamp of stereotypes (Faye never has a pen handy, Cal hardly ever takes notes), a sharp confrontation or tense cat-and-mouse chase keeps things on track.

Along the way, there's ample chance to savor smart, if all too fleeting, supporting performances from "Doubt's" Viola Davis (as a medical examiner), Harry Lennix (a detective who doesn't appreciate Cal butting in on his case), Jeff Daniels (a smug, self-righteous Congressman) and Jason Bateman (a sleazy blast as a public relations hack who knows more than he's telling -- until Cal starts questioning him).

Both Affleck and McAdams prove adequate, if hardly revelatory, while Wright Penn introduces a note of restless regret to her role as dutiful political wife.

As usual, however, it's Crowe who dominates the proceedings, once again disappearing into his role -- this time as a long-haired, rumpled cynic who just can't help being a pain in the neck, whether confronting his editors or his adversaries. Or both.

Cal McAffrey may represent a dying breed, but -- stop the presses! -- there's still life in the old dinosaur yet. At least on the big screen.

Contact movie critic Carol Cling at ccling@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0272.

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