Dark Crimes

Jim Carrey as a grizzled Polish detective investigating sex crimes is even less fun than you think.

The presence of Brett Ratner as a producer is not always a bad thing; for starters, he produced the essential documentary Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films. But after three mentions of his Ratpac Entertainment followed by “Produced by Brett Ratner, p.g.a.” in the first opening credits of Alexandros AvranasDark Crimes, it’s hard not to feel like the frog on the back of the scorpion: Motherfucker, you were warned.

Set in modern-day Poland at its bleakest, Tadek (Jim Carrey, whose Polish accent is there more often than it isn’t) is a detective near retirement who has been moved off of active duty. When he notices that the description of a murder in a new book by ragingly assholish writer Kozlow (Marton Csokas) matches the unreleased details of a real-life murder in a BDSM club, Tadek becomes obsessed with proving Kozlow did it. Avranas shoots much of the dialog with the characters starting down the barrel of the camera, which already felt like a cheap gimmick when Hitchcock overused it in Torn Curtain and is no less of a crutch now. Dark Crimes is dank and dreary and no fun, and just when you think it can’t get any ickier, we see Carrey’s O-face. Couldn’t you have warned us, Ratner?

Rated R. 
Opens Friday at the Roxie Theater.

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