Criminal Law - Ambition, Mirrors, and the Cost of Control

I was surprised by how entertaining Criminal Law is from beginning to end, especially given its reputation. It moves quickly, leans hard into psychological tension, and never loses focus on the volatile relationship at its center.

At the time of Criminal Law, Ben Chase (Gary Oldman) appears far younger than the version of Oldman most audiences are familiar with today, but the intensity is already unmistakable. Coming off Sid and Nancy (1986) and Prick Up Your Ears (1987), Oldman had already built a reputation for performances that felt dangerous and restless. His intensity isn't theatrical - it's invasive, the kind that makes every other performance adjust around it.

Opposite him, Martin Thiel (Kevin Bacon) reflects a different kind of turning point. Post-Footloose (1984), Bacon was clearly steering away from youthful stardom and into darker, more morally ambiguous territory, a transition that would soon solidify with Flatliners (1990) and A Few Good Men (1992). Thiel is wealthy, polished, and quietly menacing - the kind of character who never raises his voice because he doesn't need to.

What makes Criminal Law work is the underlying connection between Chase and Thiel. Their dialogue hints at a distorted mentor-student dynamic. When Thiel challenges Chase to "show me what I taught you," or earlier, in a lighter moment on the boat, casually invites Chase into his world of inherited privilege, the implication is clear: Thiel represents who Chase could become if ambition fully eclipses restraint. What separates them isn't intelligence or confidence - it's that Thiel believes justice is something you take, while Chase still believes it's something you're supposed to answer for.

Seen through that lens, Thiel functions as a warped future version of Chase - a rich, self-appointed avenger of justice who believes intelligence and access excuse everything. The film becomes less about courtroom mechanics and more about temptation, identity, and the quiet seduction of power.

Jean Stillwell (Tess Harper) is excellent as the steady counterweight to the escalating ego battle, grounding the film with authority and clarity. Detective Carl Mesel (Joe Don Baker) is instantly familiar - so familiar that I caught myself wondering how many films I'd seen him in, only to realize it might just be how many times I've watched Cape Fear (1991). That familiarity actually helps here, grounding a film that could have floated off into psychological excess.

Director Martin Campbell keeps the pacing tight and restless, a style that complements Oldman's manic energy rather than trying to contain it. The final sequence - without giving anything away - is shot beautifully, turning silence into something louder than words.

Criminal Law doesn't end by revealing who's right - it ends by showing what happens when intelligence convinces itself it's above consequence.

First published on IMDb. Original IMDb review ↗