Aw, come on. Can't these screenwriters come up with anything more affecting than this. Yes, I understand, its the simplicity of it. An old-fashioned saying in new fashioned quarters. And then, with the audacity of a child striking his father, Jerry turns to Sam Shepard and says, "Come on, you're old enough to remember when that meant something". No he's not. Mythically, a promise is a storytelling technique to set up conflict. A promise is made to be broken. A promise has always been made to be broken.

        Of course, not in this case. The promise refers to is a bond Jerry made with Patricia Clarkson, mother of young murder victim, telling her he'd find the killer. The whole film is based upon this promise, one he initially turns down, but then swears to in an elaborately religious manner (one would expect as a matter of police duty to get on with the case). The obsession he follows it with can only be described as arbitrary. It is not as if he had a bad police career and wanted to make up for it. It is not as if he could trade the fear of retirement (which occurs simultaneously with the murder) for this obsession, because that would be just plain laughable (not to mention overused). And finally, its not as if he has any real connection to the case, he doesn't have any children - he never had any children - and he didn't make the pledge as the result of any careful thought or deep meditation. It seems as if he made the promise only to serve as content for this film.

        Furthermore, the promise also seems to serve a second, even more derivative purpose: to serve the film's ending. I won't ruin it, but it occurred to me that we only watch the first two hours so that the ending will play out as unconventional. Unfortunately, I think most audiences will just feel like the film shrinks itself until you can no longer hear it whining; it will appear to just peter out and end, rather than conclude with an ample amount of closure. And most audiences will be right. It is as if we're trying to locate someone by the sound of their voice and just when we think we're close, their voice gets fainter and fainter until we can't hear it anymore.

        I have to take pause to scratch my head over why 'The Pledge' is so over directed. In Sean Penn's previous film, 'The Crossing Guard' (also starring Nicholson), the excessive nature of the main character, a father hell-bent on revenge after his daughter is killed by a drunk driver, seems to warrant a certain amount of over-the-top direction and vivid sentimentalism. In 'The Pledge', all the extra gusto and screeching intensity only serves to overheat the already stupefying fire in the film's belly. Nicholson is good - or appears good - because he can give one of those loud, unpredictably wild performances without skipping a beat. And he's a lot of fun to watch when he's harnessing that energy, even if the film he's banging around in is, for the most part, complete and utter tripe.

        Pieces of the film are interesting. The entire look of the film is impeccable - it takes place entirely in Nevada, and utilizes landscapes of a bleak snow blindness, serene fishing grounds and dusty roadways. The cinematography, as in Penn's 'The Crossing Guard' is photographic and unfolds very, very slowly. Everything looks really spectacular even when what's occurring is more than a little dim. The symbolism is desperately simple-minded, but what's onscreen at any given minute is a feast for the eyes. Simply watching Jack Nicholson smoke a damn cancer stick is a feast for the eyes.

        It's a big, marginally good cast, too. The great Aaron Eckart as a new, blowhard cop; Sam Shepard as the chief; Tom Noonan as a suspicious religious nut; a great cameo by Mickey Rourke as a father whose daughter is missing and presumed dead; Robin Wright-Penn as a woman whose daughter Nicholson uses as bait in attempt to trap the killer; and most bewildering of all, Benecio Del Toro as a retarded Native American with a ton of priors, who is arrested in connection with the murder. And once more, Del Toro (whom I think should win the Oscar in 2000 for 'Traffic'), doesn't work at all. It is hard to believe his character would be able to drive a car, much less mastermind a serial rape. Watching him mouth the words and drool, stutter and mumble, slouch over himself and look around the room - - - its just a total misfire. He's a great actor - and I'm sure in a parallel world, it is aa great performance - but in 'The Pledge', it just doesn't ignite anything.

        Finally, I wondered why the significance of birds was so prevalent. I couldn't figure it out, but I expect it is drawn upon logically and with merit in the book of the same name, on which the film is based (written by Friedrich Duerrenmatt). In fact, the whole story probably works better in novel form, where the time to draw things out - in fact, the time to ponder on the many unanswered "whys" floating around in 'The Pledge' - is plentiful, and worth experiencing. In Sean Penn's 'The Pledge', everything is churning away, plugging headlong towards a conclusion - creating an entire world out of an obsession which is not grounded in anything - until it reaches an ending - - - that's not really there. Amazing.