Perhaps it's all too fitting that the latest chronicle of a crime lord's rise and fall be called simply American Gangster. The title reflects both the solid simplicity of its premise as well as its cultural tradition. The gangster/crime epic has been an American staple for decades, and its line has produced some of the strongest fare in cinema. We practically expect a good one to pop up regularly, and because the genre's quality is fairly reliable, it's no surprise these films keep drawing on each other as sources of guidelines and inspiration.

Thus, director Ridley Scott's entry, conveniently set in the 1970s when this kind of picture was at its height, already draws comparisons to memories of the past. American Gangster reminds one of The French Connection, The Godfather, Scarface; some have called it Super Fly vs. Serpico -- the list could go on and on, really. I think this illustrates how the movie's generalness gives it both weakness and strength. Sure we've seen this sort of thing before. But every time we see it, we're entertained.

Much of the draw comes from the vicarious thrill of watching an efficient crime lord at work. Yes, people like this are murderers, and they do evil things such as selling drugs, but, admit it, we root for these guys -- the more resourceful they are, and the more they don't let anyone mess around with them, the more we're likely to cheer them on. And they don't get any more charismatic than Denzel Washington, here playing real-life kingpin Frank Lucas. Frank is smart, charming, but serious. He's loyal to those who brought him up, including a mentor and his mother; he could be considered a family man. He's also a clearheaded businessman, and these are all good qualities, which he unfortunately uses to sell a pure form of heroin so strongly demanded that, even at lower than the average street price, their sales make him a rich man.

In general, these gangster stories are critiques of American capitalism, with the "Land of Opportunity" being ironically applied to underground activities that can make you wealthy and give security to your family, as long as you know how to fend off the competition (and make sure they don't literally kill you). Scott takes this a bit further not only by making the viewer complicit with the criminal ambitions on screen, but also by having practically every other character in the movie be corrupt as well. Lower-tier criminals all seek the high-life. Frank's erstwhile innocent brothers, once they're in on the enterprise, happily contribute to the cause. The local cops want in on it too -- they despise Russell Crowe's character, Richie Roberts, an honest cop who's derided for uncovering a million-dollar stash and actually having the gall to turn it in. Josh Brolin plays perhaps the lowest scum, a police investigator who extorts the criminals in his jurisdiction.

What Scott seems to be saying is that this is the American dream -- to make money fast, with the law being just a hindrance. Everyone wants to be a gangster, to live large and be in charge, from these drug-trafficking crooks to the "legitimate" celebrities, like actors and sports stars. Wealth is the excuse to revel in immorality and irresponsibility, and it indirectly brings fame and misguided respect along the way. People like Richie, who eventually leads a team to attempt to bust Frank's organization, are very few and far in between. Who is more admirable, the upstanding law-abider who could be seen as a sucker (and, incidentally, has a few unsavory habits in his personal life), or the criminal mastermind, who has otherwise upstanding qualities, who's merely taking advantage of his naturally corrupt environment?

So perhaps American Gangster isn't such a general title after all. Perhaps here gangsters have the best kind of freedom by being able to pursue quick paths to riches and become admired for their notoriety in the process.

(Released by Universal and rated "R" for violence, pervasive drug content and language, nudity and sexuality.)

Review also posted at www.windowtothemovies.com.