Lee has always made race an issue in his films, but here he doses it with humor and a kind of civic pride. When a Sikh complains of being stopped at airport security because he looks Muslim, Frazier counters, “Yeah, but I bet you can always get a cab when you need one.”
As the world’s melting pot, the give and take of racial assimilation is part of our national character—the tension it sometimes produces a thing to celebrate for its uniqueness. For once, Lee seems to appreciate this and, at least in this movie, his perceptiveness sets him apart from the directorial pack.
If anything, his meditation on the American spirit stalls the pace. Thankfully, crisp, quirky performances from Washington, Owen, and Foster fill the space and make us forget how slowly the plot is inching forward. Their characters may smack of pulp fiction, but each makes us believe every fedora-tipping, stiletto-stalking second.
Despite Hollywood’s contention that adults don’t go to the movies anymore and they have no choice but to pander to indiscriminate male adolescents, sharp, sophisticated entertainment can still break away from the pack. Granted, these films probably won’t make Harry Potter or Narnia money, but then again, as their ongoing profit decline shows, neither do a lot of projected blockbusters these days.
So perhaps some other brave executives will take a cue from Inside Man’s ticket sales over the weekend and greenlight more projects like it. Because when studios make smart, quality films, smart, quality audiences will show up to appreciate them.