When off air, Erica basks in the warmth of a loving relationship with fiancé David (Andrews). But her happiness is taken from her when they are brutally beaten in a random attack in Central Park that leaves him dead and her in critical condition.
Although Erica’s broken body heals, deeper psychological wounds remain as she struggles to adjust to life without David. Crippled by fear and paranoia, she makes the fateful decision to arm herself.
The gun bought for peace of mind rapidly becomes a cathartic agent as Erica embarks on a killing spree, wiping the scum off New York’s streets and simultaneously exorcising the demons that linger from her first, brutal encounter.
Stories of an anonymous vigilante grip the city and NYPD detective Sean Mercer (Howard) becomes increasingly determined to track down the killer. To complicate matters, Mercer has struck up a relationship with Erica, giving interviews for her radio show and taking a personal interest in the unsolved case of her attack.
As events unfold and the evidence suggests the vigilante is not a guy with a gun but a girl with a grudge, will Mercer have to courage and fortitude to convict his new found friend?
The ineptly named The Brave One is more than your average vigilante flick. Rather than rely on blood-thirsty action sequences, the film explores the emotions of those involved – what it is that leads someone to seek revenge and how exacting that revenge makes them feel.
It also scratches the surface of some post 9/11 issues. New York has never been safer, yet the threat of attack lurks on every corner.
Foster convinces as the petrified victim turned vengeful killer and Howard is superb as the world weary detective. Together, they just about managed to save a frequently ham-fisted script.
The film becomes less credible as the body count piles up. Foster’s character seems to smoke a bad guy every time she leaves the house and her gung-ho one-liners would make even John McClane cringe. You are also left wondering whether Mercer and his quick-with-a-quip sidekick are the only homicide detectives in the whole of New York.
The film looks great thanks to Philippe Rousselot’s moody, desaturated lensing and there is some sharp editing – particularly during the sequence depicting Erica and David’s savage attack, shot at a pace that is sufficiently disturbing and superbly disorientating.
But ultimately you can’t help but feel let down by an ending that has the whiff of a studio re-write, since it betrays both the character of detective Mercer and the theories of ‘right and wrong’ set-up by Jordan throughout the movie.
Bill Beattie
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