Review: 'The Nice Guys' Is One Funky Film

Laura Cafasso ‘18 / Emertainment Monthly Staff Writer
“How do you like my car, big boy?”
These are the last words of Misty Mountains (Murielle Telio), a porn star discovered by a bewildered, pajama clad boy (Ty Simpkins) that finds her car wreck in his backyard. This fatal crash will begin the hunt for clues, corruption and porn stars that inhabits The Nice Guys.
It stars the unlikely (now perfectly matched) duo of Holland March (Ryan Gosling) and Jackson Healy (Russell Crowe) in a conflicted, crime-ridden 1977 Los Angeles. The usual matchup for this city: the strict, conservative adults versus the sex-crazed, drugged rebels. These two guys are in slumps, career-wise and in terms of their self esteem.
March (Gosling) doesn’t play it safe, considering how it honed it in for Crazy, Stupid, Love. He takes unexpected, comedic risks (not afraid to scream like a girl). Gosling finds a happy medium between a down-on-his-luck widower and borderline alcoholic without being gimmicky or depressing. His on-screen daughter, Holly (Angourie Rice) keeps him in check and humanizes March’s gritty existence. Angourie Rice is one to watch — she’s got tenacity and maturity as a young actress.
Healy (Crowe) is the most refreshing character. His humility and self-awareness are surprising, especially since he is a burly bruiser with no attachments. Except for his pet fish, of course. His calculated violence proves he sincerely has nothing to lose, reinstating Crowe’s badassness after his bizarre turn in Les Miserables. It helps that he doesn’t sing.
The plot, while lengthy, was a coy blend of mystery, sardonic humor, and corruption. March and Healy come together quite by accident, but if you believe in fate, it becomes a match made in heaven (or by crafty writer and director, Shane Black). Their chemistry may remind one of The Other Guys, with Crowe as Terry Hoitz (Mark Wahlberg) and Gosling as Allen Gamble (Will Ferrell). It starts off coarse and hateful, but blossoms into a true friendship.
Unlike The Other Guys, this comedy is dark and desperate. A frightened teenager, Amelia (Margaret Qualley), is wanted by several thugs in connection with an “artsy” and “experimental” (really just loose terms for porno) film that’s gone missing. There’s also the parallel of the recent, suspicious death of Misty Mountains. Paraphrased, March points out, “So you made a porno . . . with a plot?” This ‘experimental films’ leads up to the 1977 L.A. Auto Show, where shit hits the fan.
The thugs out for Amelia are well cast, except for Matt Bomer as the big, bad gunman. While one can appreciate Bomer’s versatility (The Normal Heart, American Horror Story), adding a grotesque mole to his beautiful face does not make him intimidating. Josh Brolin, or someone of that caliber, would have suited the role better.
The backdrop (late 1970s Los Angeles) was the savior when the timing dragged. The cars were cool and sleek, the highway billboards were nostalgic (Jaws 2, Airport 77), and the music was groovy (‘Earth, Wind, and Fire’ at a raging party? Yes please). The end purposely leaves the door open for a sequel, but that will depend on if audiences can get behind these funky private investigators. 
Overall Rating: B+
Watch The Trailer:
[embedyt] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ihb8vCrj2kc[/embedyt]