"Spartan"

Movies are sometimes a worthy substitute for reality; escapism, entertainment, a cure for boredom, a way to laugh or to fill in the spaces between. Then there are movies that are dark, disquieting and that leave you with a void you can't help but ponder on some level, either conscious or otherwise.

Spartan, starring Val Kilmer, is a David Mamet film -- which at once suggests curt, sharp dialogue and vulgarity and characters whose merits are almost always debatable on some level. In this particular film, Val Kilmer portrays a special operative agent who is tasked with recovering the President's daughter, who is kidnapped under somewhat mysterious circumstances. His mission turns on its ear and turns yet again -- Mamet is notorious for double- and triple-back plot twists -- and what is exposed is troubling, almost plausible, and highly unusual.

Without the revelation of anything concrete in the way of plot, I think it would be ideal to suggest that this film was rife with odd choices: William H. Macy should never play a character who is charged with carrying, let alone brandishing, a gun. Val Kilmer seems to search for dismal, bitter, angry characters. And Ed O'Neil (the former Al Bundy) should call Teri Hatcher for advice on resurrecting his career.

Though this particular film isn't disposable, what drew me in is its similarities to The Salton Sea, another Kilmer movie in which he plays a character who, essentially, courts death. The dark cloud which permeated that film's every scene is, for the most part, present in this one as well, except for a few scenes which feel like Hallmark-esque filler. The grisly climax and the darkness that defines "Spartan" is, for the most part, dead-on.

The main problem is Kilmer's portrayal of a man who faces and embraces death in his daily life. As much as he's relatively believable in that role, his dialogue is too well effected: just as David Caruso missed the mark as a small-time criminal in "Kiss of Death," Kilmer's behavior and his diction are diametrically opposed. He sounds almost Shakespearean as he's avoiding sniper fire or using someone's head as a door-opener. Either Mamet is preoccupied with the verbal dance he choreographs, or someone forgot to tell Kilmer to snarl more and to show some emotion despite his character not having any. It would have been a bit more believable.

Overall, this film is worth a look despite its flaws, but it's the kind of seeping underbelly of reality that grabs you and locks on, much like The Silence of The Lambs did, and not the story or the acting per se. As much as I respect Kilmer for his ability to portray any character (a brilliant scientist/student, Batman, The Saint and a heartbroken musician seeking revenge), I have to assume that he performs his craft better, and worse, than many other actors out there.

Kristen Bell, opposite Kilmer, held her own, incidentally, as the President's daughter, and each of the other supporting cast members were, for the most part, credible. The problem is, and herein lies the conundrum, as with all Mamet films, it's not the action that occurs in the light that should be scrutinized, but instead it's what is happening in the darkness that is deserving of exposition.