Review 1: Chicago Sun-Times

"State of Play" is a smart, ingenious thriller set in the halls of Congress and the city room of a newspaper not unlike the Washington Post. It's also a
political movie; its villain a shadowy corporation that contracts with the government for security duties and mercenaries in Iraq. The name is PointCorp.
Think Blackwater. If an outfit like that would kill for hire, the plot wonders, would it also kill to protect its profits?

Here is Russell Croweplaying an ace investigative reporter for "The Washington Globe." All the cops and most of the people on Capitol Hill seem to
know him; he's one of those instinctive newsmen who connects the dots so quickly that a 127-minute movie can be extracted from a six-hour BBC
miniseries. This keeps him so occupied that he has little time for grooming, and doesn't seem to ever wash his lanky hair.

Crowe stepped into the role after Brad Pitt dropped out. Pitt, I suspect, would have looked more clean-cut, but might not have been as interesting as
Crowe in this role as Cal McAffrey, a scruffy hero in a newspaper movie that is acutely aware of the crisis affecting newspapers. He becomes part of a
team that involves not two experienced reporters, as in "All the President's Men," but Della (Rachel McAdams), one of the paper's plucky bloggers. He
tries to teach her some ancient newspaper wisdom, such as: If you seem to be on the edge of uncovering an enormous political scandal, don't blow
your cover by hurrying online with two-bit gossip.

In a short span of time, a man is shot dead in an alley; a passing bicyclist, also a witness, is killed, and a woman is shoved or jumps under a subway
train. Cal covers all of these deaths in person. The dead woman was a researcher for Rep. Stephen Collins (Ben Affleck), who breaks into tears during
a congressional hearing into PointCorp, and confesses to conducting an affair with her. His wife, Anne (Robin Wright Penn), plays the brave politician's
wife and says their family will stay together. Anne and Cal were lovers in college. The dead man turns out to be carrying a briefcase stolen from
PointCorp. Now we connect the dots.

There are many other surprises in the film, which genuinely fooled me a couple of times, and maintains a certain degree of credibility for a thriller. The
implication is that PointCorp and the administration are locked in a an unholy alliance to channel millions of taxpayer dollars into unsavory hands. That
this can all be untangled by one reporter who looks like a bum and another who looks like Rachel McAdams (which is no bad thing) goes with the
territory.

An important role in their investigation is played by the Globe's editor, Cameron Lynne (Helen Mirren). The paper's new corporate owners are on her
neck to cut costs, redesign the venerable front page, get more scoops and go for the gossip today instead of waiting for the Pulitzer tomorrow. There is,
in fact, an eerie valedictory feeling to the film; mother of God, can this be the last newspaper movie? (The answer is no, because no matter what
happens to newspapers, the newspaper movie is a durable genre. Shouting "stop the presses!" is ever so much more exciting than shouting "stop the
upload!")

It is a reliable truth that you should never ask an expert how a movie deals with his field of knowledge. Archeologists, for example, have raised
questions about "The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor." When Cal races out of the office at deadline and shouts over his shoulder, "Tell Cameron
to kill the story," it is just possible that she would tear up the front page if the story was so important the paper could not risk being wrong. But when Cal
and his sidekick the perky blogger solve the mystery and are back in the office and it is noted "Cameron has been holding the presses four hours!" -- I
think her new corporate bosses will want to have a long, sad talk with her, after which she will discover if the company still offers severance packages.

"State of Play," directed by Kevin Macdonald ("The Last King of Scotland"), is well-assembled and has some good performances. Crowe pulls off
the Joaquin Phoenix look-alike; McAdams doesn't overplay her blogger's newbieness; Mirren convinced me she could be a newspaper editor. Wright
Penn always finds the correct shadings. If Affleck, as he plays this role, were to have his face carved into Mt. Rushmore, people would ask which was
the original.

The thing is, though, that the movie never quite attains altitude. It has a great takeoff, levels nicely, and then seems to land on autopilot. Maybe it's the
problem of resolving so much plot in a finite length of time, but it seems a little too facile toward the end. Questions are answered, relationships
revealed and mysteries solved too smoothly. If a corporation like PointCorp could have its skullduggery exposed that easily, it wouldn't still be in
business.

Review 2: Variety

Will "State of Play" be the last feature film to commemorate the physical printing and shipping of a big-city daily newspaper (as it does in almost
ennobling fashion behind the end credits)? Is this also the last gasp for movies about crusading journalists, a tradition dating back to the early '30s?
Whatever the answers, this efficient, admirably coherent thriller about reporters digging down to where politics and murder meet in Washington, D.C.,
has a wistful air about it as regards the fourth estate at a time when the profession is dangling by a thread. A tangy Russell Crowe performance and an
intriguing story look to produce reasonable B.O. in wide release.
Kevin Macdonald's first big studio feature reps a heavily compressed recapitulation of the bang-up, six-hour 2003 BBC miniseries written by Paul Abbott
and directed by David Yates. Widely admired on both sides of the Pond, the original featured gritty London atmosphere, a raft of deftly sketched bit
characters and lots of quotidian detail that a streamlined, conventional-length feature simply doesn't have time for, and was sufficiently potent at its core
to upset the sitting Labour government.

Shifting the action to recent Washington (with the fumes of the Bush administration still lingering) changes the tenor right off the bat, as does the
distinctly Yank lingo penned by a succession of writers: Matthew Michael Carnahan, Tony Gilroy and Billy Ray.

But the setup is the same: A desperately fleeing young man is gunned down on the street, a bicycling witness is also shot and gravely wounded, while,
in a seemingly unrelated incident, beautiful young Sonia Baker (Maria Thayer) mysteriously meets her end under the wheels of a subway train.

Sonia worked for rising U.S. Congressman Stephen Collins (Ben Affleck), but circumstances soon force him to admit they were having an affair. If it
were as simple as that, he and wife Anne (Robin Wright Penn) would soon be able to put it all behind them in the time-tested Beltway manner. But there
is much, much more to the story, as disheveled vet Washington Globe reporter Cal McAffrey (Crowe) and the paper's pert upstart blogger Della Frye
(Rachel McAdams) soon realize.

Pic's nostalgia for enterprising, old-time journalism -- the sort immortalized in fast-talking Depression-era Warner Bros. quickies through "All the
President's Men," "Zodiac" and many in between -- begins with Cal's diet (Goldfish, double cheeseburgers with chili) and resulting paunch, choice of
automobile (a beat-up 1990 Saab), scruffy wardrobe, office-drawer whiskey bottle and rat's nest of a cubicle piled high with yellowing paper. The only
things missing are the visor, cuffs and dangling cigarette.

In most circumstances, Cal would let the chips fall where they may, but Stephen was his college roommate and best friend -- at least, until Cal slept
with Anne. Nevertheless, Cal offers his old pal PR advice on how to best handle the crisis, but when things begin spinning into uncharted territory, Cal's
moral compass proves as unsteady as anyone else's.

A significant new element in this American version is the introduction of a standard-issue corporate villain, PointCorp, a Halliburton-like behemoth with
deep ties to the administration. While the presence of such an easy villain may give weight to the journalistic side of things, its conventionality
somewhat cheapens the drama.

From the outset, the film acknowledges the threat looming over mainstream journalism, first with the testy condescension with which old pro Cal treats
know-it-all Della, and repeatedly with the remarks of editor Cameron Lynne (Helen Mirren) about the commercial pressures brought to bear by the
paper's new corporate owners. In fact, Cameron appears so preoccupied she's barely able to function, reduced to pacing and fretting while firing off the
occasional nasty zinger. Mirren could no doubt have done much more with the role given the opportunity, but it's been so truncated she can't come
close to the marvels Bill Nighy wrought with the same part on TV.

The other role to suffer in comparison is that of Anne Collins, originally played with gusto by Polly Walker. In the earlier telling, she and Cal launch into
an irresistible but ill-advised affair part-way through the story. Here, the indiscretion took place in the past but continues to exert an ambiguous but
thoroughly unconvincing pull on her. Anne has been far too sanitized and conformed, and she's much too classy a woman to even consider any future
with the unwashed Cal.

But Macdonald -- who flashed impressive journalistic chops in his documentaries, notably "One Day in September," and displayed an affinity for politics
in "The Last King of Scotland" -- has a real feel for the expose/thriller aspects of the story, and commendably delivers the essentials, cramming a good
deal into a little over two hours.

Eschewing trendy mannerisms, he makes sure the complicated action and numerous characters remain clear enough to follow and keeps the
backgrounds alive and interesting. Journalistic insiders may get a derisive snort out of newsroom scenes anachronistically crammed with busy, gainfully
employed workers, but might at the same time privately relish them as a last hurrah for a vanishing tradition.

McAdams is a lively presence as always, but her role (played in the miniseries by Kelly Macdonald) is devoid of any personal life or backstory, or even
of much fluctuating opinion about her professional partner. Affleck has no problem conveying the upright, professional bearing of his politico (played in
Britain by David Morrissey), but doesn't offer much more.

There are many juicy supporting perfs, however, beginning with those of Jason Bateman as a spineless PR man pressured into revealing confidential
information and Jeff Daniels as a priggish congressman who lapses into knee-jerk patriotism and moral uprightness when threatened.

In the end, though, it's Crowe who must carry the most freight, which he does with another characterization to relish. Still bulky, although not as much
so as in "Body of Lies," long-tressed and somewhat grizzled, he finds the gist of the affable eccentricity, natural obsessiveness and mainstream
contrarianism that marks many professional journalists. Crowe may always have been a brilliant character actor hiding inside a leading man's body, but
with age, the former is coming to the fore, which promises an interesting evolution. Although the role of Cal was played by John Simm in 1993, Crowe's
part actually merges two roles from the original, embracing as well another journo played by James McAvoy.

Production designer Mark Friedberg's elaborate office set won't likely be matched anytime soon. Craft contributions are sharp, including Rodrigo
Prieto's muted, blue-and-gray-dominated lensing, Justine Wright's crisp, clear-minded editing, costume designer Jacqueline West's character-defining
outfits and Alex Heffes' quietly pulsing score.

Review 3: Reelviews

The three screenwriters (Matthew Michael Carnahan, Tony Gilroy, Billy Ray) credited with adapting Paul Abbott's mini-series into a motion picture have
done something remarkable: reduce five hours of material into less than two hours and still produce something that is both coherent and engrossing.
There's no question thatState of Play feels a little rushed and the density of plot can be daunting, but the resulting tale unfolds with an urgency and
sense of verisimilitude that will keep most viewers intrigued and involved without losing many along the way.

The BBC mini-series was set in London and starred the likes of John Simm, Kelly Macdonald, David Morrissey, and Bill Nighy. The motion picture has
transferred the setting to Washington D.C. but kept many of the basic particulars the same. Ben Affleck plays Congressman Stephen Collins, a
representative from Pennsylvania's 7th District (Philadelphia's south and west suburbs) who is the chairman of a committee reviewing whether
Pointcorp should be used to "outsource homeland security." An unflattering spotlight falls upon Collins when his chief researcher apparently commits
suicide and, in the wake of her death, it is revealed that Collins was having an affair with her. In private, Collins maintains that this was not a case of
suicide, but either an accidental death or a murder.

His best friend, journalist Cal McAffrey (Russell Crowe), is a top dog at the Washington Globe. McAffrey is investigating a homicide when clues lead
him to believe the two stories could be connected. Backed by his ferocious editor, Cameron Lynne (Helen Mirren), and partnered with blogger Della
Frye (Rachel McAdams), McAffrey begins to pry into areas that are not good for his health. Soon, he believes he has uncovered a massive corporate
conspiracy perpetrated by Pointcorp with the goal of monopolizing the privatization of segments of the United States' armed forces. The evidence points
to the real goal being the discrediting of Collins, with the associated deaths being "collateral damage." With the crusading Collins out of the way,
Pointcorp's route to government approval would be unbarred. Meanwhile, McAffrey's involvement is complicated not only by his friendship with Collins
but by a past indiscretion with Collins' wife, Anne (Robin Wright Penn).

By positioning an investigative journalist in the protagonist's role, State of Play achieves an old-fashioned feel (there was a time when many TV shows
and films of this variety featured such characters) while also allowing the filmmakers to comment upon the current state of the print business. (The film
started production long before the rash of newspaper bankruptcies began.) Helen Mirren's character is caught square in the crosshairs: the Globe must
make money or perish, and all other considerations - including fact-checking stories and holding headlines until all the details are uncovered - are
secondary. Things were never like this for Woodward and Bernstein in All the President's Men.

State of Play is so plot-heavy that there's not much time for character development. Conversations are generally used for exposition with relationship
building as a secondary concern. Nevertheless, in part because of strong performances by the leads, we develop a rooting interest in McAffrey, Collins,
and Frye. Ultimately, however, the film is less about the people than about the web they are uncovering. Although there are sequences in which
McAffrey and Frye find their lives in danger, their personal jeopardy is incorporated to keep the story from becoming too cerebral and distanced. The
reason the perhaps-expected romance between McAffrey and Frye does not happen can be attributed largely to time constraints. State of Play has no
room to accommodate a romance (unless one counts the ashes of the relationship between McAffrey and Anne).

Like most thrillers, the resolution is not straightforward but the means by which the final "twist" is uncovered (it has something to do with a character
misspeaking and revealing information that he/she should not have been in possession of ) is more clichéd than one would expect from a screenplay
that is otherwise written on a high level. I couldn't help being a little disappointed that such a stock B-movie staple would make an appearance in that
context; it's as convenient and contrived as when Cate Blanchett went rummaging through the trash in Notes on a Scandal. This sort of device, which is
not uncommon in mystery-thrillers, bothers me more when it's used in an otherwise intelligent movie like this than when it's one trashy element among
many.

State of Play's pedigree is unquestionable. The director, Kevin Macdonald (The Last King of Scotland), is a rising luminary in both British and American
cinema. Tony Gilroy, who has been writing screenplays since 1992's The Cutting Edge and has a string of recent thrillers to his credit
(including Duplicity, which he also directed), is as close to a "can't miss" prospect as one is likely to find. The cast features several A-list actors,
including the always interesting Russell Crowe and the always delightful Helen Mirren (wish she'd been in more scenes), in fine form. If there's an
obvious downside to the overall endeavor, it's that the mini-series condensation leaves the motion picture feeling truncated - something even those
unaware of the source material may sense, if only subconsciously. Nevertheless, in an environment where dumb thrillers are outperforming smart ones
by wide margins, we can be thankful to have something on this level available, even if it is a remake.

Consensus: A taut, well-acted political thriller, State of Play overcomes some unsubtle plot twists with an intelligent script and swift direction.