Whatever the sound editor on this picture was paid, it was too much; to get a grasp of what's happening with regard to the corporate conspiracy at the heart of the script, you'll need to strain your ears or crank the volume. This murkiness extends to the visual ambience, which takes the title literally; darkness encroaches on every scene without mercy, even the ones shot in lit offices or in parks or on the edges of mountain roads. Anyway, this could have been worse. Mel Gibson chews on his Boston cop accent. He mopes. He fucks bad guys up. He has conversations with his dead daughter. He's haggard more than he's charming, but it fits the milleu and the aura of doom. One gets the sense that many snarky similarities could be drawn between the plot and his present circumstances; let's leave that to TMZ, shall we? B
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