In the summer of 1975, three close friends named, Dave Boyle, Jimmy Markum, and Sean Devine, are playing in the sidewalk in Boston, when Dave is abducted, but he finally escapes after some time Jimmy’s daughter Katie is murdered, who had a boyfriend, whose father was Dave is the primary suspect, Sean is investigating this murder, he is faced with past, present demons around Katie’s death.
There is nothing romantic about the law of the streets, and its unforgiving nature has a finality that can't be undone. Eastwood has an understanding of what it takes to live with yourself, not so much a sympathy as an appreciation.
Too depressing to fill audiences with delight, but it does seem to validate questionable attitudes, especially an indifference to the suffering of innocent people and a willingness to shoot first and ask questions later.
Solid, rarely showy performances, meticulously recreated detective work and moments of pure unadulterated grief accent this whodunit, a movie that will have those who haven't read the book fooled for much of its length.
It is in many ways Eastwood's tightest movie for some time, and certainly his darkest since Unforgiven; indeed, the ending offers as corrosive an assessment of the limits of American justice as anything in his career.
