Why is it that cops seem more tragic when they’re from Boston?

In Mel Gibson’s latest cop incarnation, “Edge of Darkness”, he plays an aged officer on the verge of retirement whose life revolves around the happy memories of his daughter as a child.

When she comes to visit him and is showing signs of extreme illness, they walk out the front door only to have her shot down by what seems to be gunmen intending to kill Gibson, but missing.

This story has the perfect layout for a revenge tale full of action and explosions reminiscent of the “Lethal Weapon” series, and that was what I fully expected walking into the theater. I was mistaken.

As this story crosses back and forth from the psychology of loss or morality-based story-arcs, I realized this movie was an attempt to amalgamate meaningfulness with intrigue that got lost in creation. If this story had been free of any restraints for running length it might have been really amazing. The script was adapted from a BBC series from the ’80s, which would explain the film’s seeming desire to expand on characters and story, and why the movie feels like it’s missing the same sort of details as omitted in the “Harry Potter” series’ transition to film.

All aside, Gibson gives a believable Bostonian accent, apart from it just sounding wrong coming from him. And the rest of the extras actually have that Boston accent enough of the time to keep the feel.

But the real treat in the film comes from Ray Winstone, who plays the “man in black” that the corrupt government officials turn to for cleanup. Winstone’s character is probably the most interesting and appealing in “Edge of Darkness,” yet he receives fairly little screen time. The insights into his motivations are most of the details that seem to be missing. His dark, methodical government spook-ability are the classic personification of those scary men that make someone disappear.

The action in the movie is of a nice, mild sort. No Michael Bay moments, just action in its raw sense, without the glitz and glamour. Have no fear, though, there’s plenty of this violence to enjoy. The beautiful part is that violence hardly ever dominates the scene. The story maintains prominence and the violence plays second-fiddle, as it should.

The few laughing or joking moments play like the violence by adding to the story — like the repeated double entendre comment, “Nothing is legal in Massachusetts.”

Without giving away any of the twists and turns of the plot, there’s not a whole lot more to pick at. The story was good, but missing … something. The acting was good, but not Oscar level. The directing was comfortable, but nothing groundbreaking. The sound was clear and realistic without trying to win awards. The movie just went by pleasantly.

Well, except for the last couple minutes. Those could have been done better. The premise behind it is built up and you already know how the tragic life of this Boston cop is going to end up about 15 minutes into the film. The problem isn’t in the predictability, but in the way it was done. It just didn’t have the comfortable feel of the rest of the film. It was like the director and the writer said, “Hey, interns, wanna do the aftermath of the movie? It’s a simple thing that we just want to know if you can screw up.” And they did.

So, apart from the last few minutes, the movie is well done. It’s worth watching in theaters or at home. But be in the mindset for a story. This isn’t a Hollywood-of-today sort of movie. It feels more like a kick-back to the Bogart films from days of yore.

Maybe that’s something the film industry should look to start doing: making old-style films, rather than just remaking everything.