Mysteries of The Eccentric Heart

By RICHARD SCHICKEL

THE JANUARY MAN

Directed by Pat O'Connor

Screenplay by John Patrick Shanley

There are mysteries, and then again there are mysteries. Those that involve capital crimes oblige a movie to solve the puzzle clearly, neatly and, one hopes, surprisingly before the final fade-out. There is, however, a better class of enigma that involves less deadly, even comical, forms of human behavior. And there is a better class of film that is wisely content to set forth such shadowy dilemmas and leave them unresolved, resonating in our minds.

The January Man is modestly, ingratiatingly, a movie of the latter sort. To be sure, it begins with a serial killer claiming a victim, and it ends with the guilty party being taken into custody. But the deductive process that normally leads to this conventionally ordained conclusion is perfunctory and even somewhat implausible. What interests writer John Patrick Shanley, who won an Academy Award last year for Moonstruck, is the infinite and usually inexplicable capacity of ordinary people to turn flaky without warning or change of expression. The prime example here is Nick Starkey (Kevin Kline), a former New York City cop and now a fireman. As Starkey, Kline has the best entrance in recent movie memory: bursting spectacularly out of a burning building, cradling the child he has rescued in his arms, he collapses to the sidewalk and calls for a cup of coffee, "preferably espresso."

Besides being brave, Nick is something of an ironist. This quality, if nothing else, is a sign of intelligence. Before taking up fire fighting, Nick was a cop falsely tainted by corruption. Now the very people who secretly profited by victimizing him -- the crooked, volcanic mayor (Rod Steiger) and the bland, bureaucratic police commissioner (Harvey Keitel) -- need him to lead the hunt for a maniacal killer.

It is an offer the ironist cannot refuse. Not only is the commissioner his long-loathed brother, he is also the man who married Christine (Susan Sarandon), a haughty socialite for whom Nick still yearns. His price for cooperation? One tete-a-tete with that ambiguous lady. In Shanley's world, it is inevitable that this does not go awfully well. Nick asks her to listen to the wine breathe, serves octopus for the main course and generally comes on too strong. It is also inevitable that a perfect substitute for Christine will soon turn up. And it does, in the form of the mayor's daughter (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio). This is not love as usual; this is the need for sexual revenge.

What prevents The January Man from turning into a downscale Dangerous Liaisons is the movie's refusal to let the characters acknowledge this edgy subtext. Shanley instead provides a funny, melodramatic hubbub to distract our attention. His busy plotting may require a suspension of incredulity, but he is well served by good actors; by a director, Pat O'Connor, with a taste for the acrid flavors of big-city life; and by his own delight in human eccentricity.