I'm predisposed to like Barry Levinson films, and to be sympathetic to anything about Baltimore, but this film was as confused a jumble of misplaced good intentions as I've seen in awhile. Joe Mantanga as a Jew? Tom Waitts tunes as interludes in a film about the 1950s? (Not to mention the fact that the African-American music presented as 1954 is in fact much later.) With all this attention to detail, how can they get it so wrong? I longed for John Waters to step in and save this film.
Review of Liberty Heights
