The problem with low expectations is that they are often easily met. Commercials for "The Lincoln Lawyer," adapted from Michael Connelly's novel of the same name, gave the impression that this movie was an utterly pedestrian crime drama with attractive stars, absurd plot twists and an underwhelming ending that would be both unsatisfying and pointless. The movie has a few saving graces, but, ultimately, the initial low expectations are exactly what the movie meets.
Things started on a high point with Bobby Bland's "Ain't No Love in the Heart of the City" (1974) over the intro credits. The music, combined with the lack of a proper teaser, causes an opening reminiscent of the sort of ridiculous cop movies that filled B−movie theaters in the '70s, and things only grow sillier from there. Matthew McConaughey plays Mickey Haller, a smooth yet not entirely scrupulous lawyer whose experience in high−profile cases earns him an appropriate "bad boy" reputation.
When Louis Roulet (Ryan Phillippe) is accused of rape, assault and attempted murder, he seeks out Haller to represent him in court. As one can guess, however, things aren't quite so straightforward and Haller ends up in a difficult position between Roulet's power struggles, a police investigation and the guilt of an innocent man he failed to defend. The narrative is consistent, and the frequent twists keep the story interesting, even if they are unsurprising and ultimately derivative.
The acting is solid, with McConaughey's natural charm pretty much keeping the entire movie above water. The immersion factor is undercut when Haller's mental state deteriorates near the end of the second act, but McConaughey is apparently too attractive to be convincingly distressed (as evidenced by his flawless head of hair, which stays perfect even after he hasn't slept for days). William H. Macy is perhaps the most misplaced as the private investigator, Frank Levin, but eventually his flowing hair and dashingly weird looks make for a lovable yet believable spy.
The cinematography, like the acting and story, is functional yet bland. About once every five minutes, the zoom lurches forward as though it had just tripped over itself. The effect is pointless and irritating, but if one can ignore it, the movie is still watchable.
As a side note, the product placement behind "The Lincoln Lawyer" is as heavy−handed and jarring as was Bed Bath and Beyond's role in "Click" (2006). The Lincoln that Haller drives has nothing to do with the plot, but that seems hard to believe given how lovingly the camera chooses to linger on the car's emblem.
Far and away, the major failing of "The Lincoln Lawyer" is a lack of proper suspense, both in the buildup and execution. Crime dramas as a genre must rely on suspense to keep the audience engaged — once the main character seems unassailable or the mystery is resolved, all of a sudden the threat is no longer an issue. It also doesn't help that the suspense leading to the one true surprising twist was resolved with such straight−faced absurdity that the audience was laughing too hard to notice or respect it.
The solution is simple: Recast the main character. McConaughey absolutely dwarfs the villain physically, and his smooth operating makes him seem equally well built on an interpersonal level. He simply is too good to be brought almost to his knees. Tack on the fact that the main antagonist — Roulet — has no vendetta against Haller, and it becomes difficult to connect with their power struggle.
So that's "The Lincoln Lawyer" in a nutshell: charmless, shallow and a derivative yet functional movie with fatal suspense problems. Nothing is bad enough to be a dealbreaker, but save your time for a rental and your money for a brand−new vintage Lincoln Town Car. I've heard they're fantastic.
