An arresting performance

It’s the sort of movie that slaps you awake, that grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you -- hard. “Narc’s” opening scene is a barrage of kinetic brutality that disturbs not so much with its violence as with its honesty. In “Narc,” murder is painfully real, slow and messy and committed on sad and savage impulse.

Stylistically slick, with photography that moves from sandpaper grittiness to blue-cold contrast, Joe Carnahan’s second feature (his first was the $7,000 independent “Blood, Guts, Bullets and Octane”) flaunts enough MTV-derived flash to hold the eye, but at its heart it’s a character study in the vein of the ‘70s cop drama, where the story is less about the crime committed than the lives of those it touches. The film’s narrative follows two undercover narcotics cops (Ray Liotta and Jason Patric) struggling to find the murderer of a fellow officer and, with him, their own redemption.

“Narc” is exactly the sort of movie in which one would expect to find Jason Patric, who has made brooding intensity and wounded vulnerability his specialty. When Patric acts, it can be like the shattering of glass, a process that simultaneously reveals, reflects and cuts us deep. For his first major screen role, in 1987’s “The Lost Boys,” Patric tackled the role of a tormented young vampire with a veracity that lifted the film up from standard teen horror flick to a surprisingly poignant study in adolescent alienation. Immediately hailed by the press as one of the best young actors of his generation, Patric was hefted upon the media’s shoulders and paraded about as “the next big thing.” It was a title he would quickly relinquish, opting instead for a career built from carefully made choices and complete and total commitment to his roles.

“I know I’ve taken a very unconventional path,” admits Patric over breakfast at a Santa Monica hotel. “I’ve had opportunities since a very young age to take the standard walk in someone else’s ‘movie star’ shoes, but I didn’t want that. I just wanted to be in movies that I wanted see.” These movies have included the modern-day noir “After Dark, My Sweet,” 1991’s “Rush” and Neil La Bute’s “Your Friends & Neighbors,” the latter of which Patric also produced.

“I put the whole thing together from scratch,” Patric says of his experience on the film. “I brought Neil out to Hollywood, to a lot of people’s dismay, I think. From the first time I shook his hand to the time we were filming, I think took five months. It was just great to be involved like that. I picked the actors that I wanted to work with, created the rehearsal period I wanted, the shooting days, everything. And I think it validated a lot of the ideas that I had and alleviated a lot of the frustrations I’d dealt with in the past. It was completely fulfilling. After that I didn’t want to jump into something that wasn’t amazing, so a long time went by in the process.” It was five years, to be exact, before Patric found “Narc” and with it a role he felt worth his time and his energy.

“I’ve made two movies in the last half decade, which is career death,” says Patric unapologetically, “but I’d rather have two movies like this than a lot of filler.” Patric’s discernment may be risky for business, but it certainly hasn’t detracted from his talent.

Onscreen he possesses a rare naturalness, an authenticity of movement, which is enhanced by his physicality. In person, as on film, he has strong, compact grace and the keen alertness of a cat about to pounce. Even when Patric is playing strung out and world-weary (as he does fairly often), there is always something electric just under the surface and this is the bit of himself Patric (thankfully) can’t seem to disguise.

“I always try to attack my roles more like an athlete,” Patric explains. “If you can achieve real behavior in a film, people relate to it on their own primal level. They recognize it innately and it affects them. For ‘Narc,’ Carnahan and I talked about wanting to see the character’s hands, the sensuality of those hands holding his baby and then the painful dichotomy of those hands doing other things. Movies are also the only time where you get to see people alone. In ‘Narc,’ you see this man alone and you see the way he moves when he’s alone and there’s something poignant in that.”

Despite the fact that Patric claims he considered quitting acting before taking on his role in “Narc” -- “I just wasn’t finding it to be satisfying” -- it’s statements like the one above that illustrate his commitment. Patric is simply not an actor (nor person) willing to give himself over to complacency.

“I still think it’s possible to do something that means something to people,” he says firmly. “Film is the only art that manifests itself in the human form. You see a representation of yourself on the screen and that’s why, as an actor, trying to achieve real behavior is so important, more important than ‘performance,’ more important than some sort of identity or shtick. The goal should be to erase the name, to have the audience connect with the film and forget about the actor. Just like Terry Malloy 50 years ago in the back of that cab has nothing to do with Marlon Brando. People relate to ‘On the Waterfront’ because everybody has thought at one point, ‘I could have been somebody.’ And that’s why, 50 years later, that moment is just as powerful.”

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Patric filmography

“Narc” (2002)

“Days of Rain” (2000)

“Your Friends & Neighbors” (1998)

“Incognito” (1997)

“Speed 2: Cruise Control” (1997)

“Sleepers” (1996)

“The Journey of August King” (1995)

“Geronimo: An American Legend” (1993)

“Denial” (1991)

“Rush” (1991)

“Frankenstein Unbound” (1990)

“After Dark, My Sweet” (1990)

“The Beast” (1988)

“The Lost Boys” (1987)

“Solarbabies” (1986)