James Woods went through a period, he later told Cigar Aficionado magazine, where all he did in movies was play "hard guys in suits." "Diggstown" is a classic example, yet a welcome relief, too, in the sense for once Woods wasn't taking himself at all seriously.
Woods is Gabriel Caine, a former dealer in phony art who is sprung from prison and hatches a scheme to take in John Gillon, the vicious boss of Diggstown, played by Bruce Dern. After Caine's buddy, Fitz (Oliver Platt), hustles Gillon's son out of his classic Corvette, Fitz and Caine give Gillon a chance to win it back by wagering a fighter named Honey Roy Palmer (Louis Gossett Jr.) can outbox any ten Diggstown men in a day.
While a buddy movie of a kind, most of the focus is on Woods' performance, delivered with his usual array of tics, smirky grins, long hooded stares, etc. It's easy to be cool when you know what the next line is in the script, but screenwriter Steven McKay's wit and way of winking at the audience keeps things from getting too stale.
Confronted by a warden about a prisoner escape Caine engineered: "The important thing is not to take this as a rejection of you personally."
Or how about when a hood puts a noose around Caine's neck and hoists him from a tree limb, saying it will be a pleasure to kill him. Would you be ruffled? Me, too. Not Caine: "I'll bet four dollars against an hour with your mother that it won't happen." After he's punched in the gut, Caine apologizes. "I'm really sorry. That was insulting. Five bucks."
Ultimately, "Diggstown" is a con movie where the audience is being conned. Like "The Sting," we are given some information but a few surprises along the way, which are turned with varying degrees of skill. Unlike "The Sting," "Diggstown" suffers from many implausible moments, a painfully weak finale, and out-of-thin-air subplots that go nowhere, especially one involving Heather Graham, who kills you with those eyes so much you almost overlook how bad her performance is. Platt, a terrific actor who never seems to find a worthy project, has a great introduction and then largely fades from view.
But what you get is more good than bad, and at times brilliant, especially when Honey Roy has his day in the ring with the Diggstown Ten. It's a memorably directed sequence by Michael Ritchie, alternately harrowing and hilarious, with Gossett a pillar of strength whether his opponent is a guy named Hammerhead or some palooka he needs to carry long enough for Fitz to milk the crowd with side bets.
"You're the one that kept drilling me that half the money's in the acting," Honey Roy tells Caine.
Actually, all the money's in the acting in "Diggstown," but Woods, Gossett, Platt, and Dern are more than enough to compensate for the inanities that sometimes crop up around them. Not a TKO, but a pretty good con you won't mind being taken in by.
Woods is Gabriel Caine, a former dealer in phony art who is sprung from prison and hatches a scheme to take in John Gillon, the vicious boss of Diggstown, played by Bruce Dern. After Caine's buddy, Fitz (Oliver Platt), hustles Gillon's son out of his classic Corvette, Fitz and Caine give Gillon a chance to win it back by wagering a fighter named Honey Roy Palmer (Louis Gossett Jr.) can outbox any ten Diggstown men in a day.
While a buddy movie of a kind, most of the focus is on Woods' performance, delivered with his usual array of tics, smirky grins, long hooded stares, etc. It's easy to be cool when you know what the next line is in the script, but screenwriter Steven McKay's wit and way of winking at the audience keeps things from getting too stale.
Confronted by a warden about a prisoner escape Caine engineered: "The important thing is not to take this as a rejection of you personally."
Or how about when a hood puts a noose around Caine's neck and hoists him from a tree limb, saying it will be a pleasure to kill him. Would you be ruffled? Me, too. Not Caine: "I'll bet four dollars against an hour with your mother that it won't happen." After he's punched in the gut, Caine apologizes. "I'm really sorry. That was insulting. Five bucks."
Ultimately, "Diggstown" is a con movie where the audience is being conned. Like "The Sting," we are given some information but a few surprises along the way, which are turned with varying degrees of skill. Unlike "The Sting," "Diggstown" suffers from many implausible moments, a painfully weak finale, and out-of-thin-air subplots that go nowhere, especially one involving Heather Graham, who kills you with those eyes so much you almost overlook how bad her performance is. Platt, a terrific actor who never seems to find a worthy project, has a great introduction and then largely fades from view.
But what you get is more good than bad, and at times brilliant, especially when Honey Roy has his day in the ring with the Diggstown Ten. It's a memorably directed sequence by Michael Ritchie, alternately harrowing and hilarious, with Gossett a pillar of strength whether his opponent is a guy named Hammerhead or some palooka he needs to carry long enough for Fitz to milk the crowd with side bets.
"You're the one that kept drilling me that half the money's in the acting," Honey Roy tells Caine.
Actually, all the money's in the acting in "Diggstown," but Woods, Gossett, Platt, and Dern are more than enough to compensate for the inanities that sometimes crop up around them. Not a TKO, but a pretty good con you won't mind being taken in by.