Like a big baby with buttons all over. I push the buttons. Internal Affairs is directed by Mike Figgis and written by Henry Bean. It stars Richard Gere, Andy Garcia, Nancy Travis, William Baldwin and Laurie Metcalf. Music is jointly produced by Figgis, Brian Banks and Anthony Marinelli and cinematography is by John A. Alonzo. Stylish neo-noir that has Gere as Dennis Peck, a crooked cop under investigation by IAD operatives Garcia and Metcalf. Peck is a master manipulator, a devious bastard who has his fingers in so many mud pies he could start his own bakery. Gere is on fire with the role, imbuing Peck with a menacing nastiness that’s a constant throughout the entire play. Once Figgis and Bean have laid the character foundations, the plot turns into a psychological battle of wills and skills between Peck and Raymond Avila (Garcia), with Peck always one step ahead because he knows where Avila’s weakness is. Figgis slow burns the tension with great aplomb, then unleashes the beasts for the thriller aspects of Bean’s screenplay. The look and feel of the piece is that of doom, deftly positing Peck’s vileness within a city awash with crooks, hookers and hitmen for hire. 8/10

This provides the audience with quite a different role from the otherwise good looking (romantic) hero type characters usually associated with Richard Gere. In this film, he portrays "Dennis Peck", an outwardly upstanding police officer who is about as dodgy as they come underneath. When Andy Garcia is brought in to investigate goings on at his precinct, he quickly concludes that Gere's partner - the aptly named "Van Stretch" (William Baldwin) is a bit of a no good wife beater, and soon he and Gere are at loggerheads. The screenplay doesn't pull it's punches - this is an out and out depiction of domestic violence, thuggery and police corruption; and not just of one rogue officer, but of an internecine network that stretches far and wide. Gere is just OK - to be honest. He never was my favourite actor and playing the bad guy by the odd vaguely menacing glance whilst lobbing in the odd f-word didn't go anywhere near enough to remove that gentle goody-goody image. The only hair-raising thing Andy Garcia seemed likely to have ever done would have involved a heck of a lot of gel, and the whole thing has a certain professionalism about the production that neutralised, effectively, anything gritty or sordid about their behaviour. I watched it because it is freezing cold, and it was on the telly - but I'm not sure that age has helped it much, and I think maybe I won't bother again.