COP arrests attention from the get-go, sped along a hell-for-leather trajectory by a nakedly fierce performance from James Woods, ripping into one of his trademark displays of intensity, a sustained salvo of concentration that leaves charm bleeding in the gutter yet holds you fascinated by weirdly compelling repellence. And he’s the good guy

‘Lloyd Hopkins’ (Woods, 40) is a Los Angeles detective sergeant as tightly wound as a constrictor knot, so unyielding in the certainty of his cynicism he’s nearly messianic. His wife can’t handle any more (his bedtime stories for their eight-year-old daughter test the girl’s problem solving acumen with grisly case details), rules, colleagues and witnesses are there to be ignored, baited and used. He’s a grade-A jerk but possesses vital bloodhound instincts when it comes to reading a situation and zeroing in on perpetrators. Taking the call on a particularly horrific murder, his search reveals links with similar unsolved killings, the possible coverup involvement of other policemen and eventually to the identity and connection of the next probable victim.

Lurid and gory, over-the-top in terms of credulity insofar as Hopkins aggressive insubordination, but the headlong momentum keeps you hooked, and though charm isn’t his strong suit, Woods burning energy is certainly galvanizing. The supporting cast is keen, especially Lesley Ann Warren, as ‘Kathleen McCarthy’, a feminist bookstore owner who has some disturbing key secrets that need to be brought to light: Warren, 41, has maybe the most explosive moment of her career in a scene where she blows her stack at Hopkins goading.

Written, co-produced & directed by James B. Harris (The Bedford Incident), adapting James Ellroy’s novel “Blood On The Moon”, the take-no-prisoners journey to the dark side was co-produced by Woods; they’d worked together six years earlier on Fast-Walking.  Michel Colombier’s score is appropriately tense. The twisted subject matter, warped characters and Steve Dubin’s seamy cinematography aren’t the best commercial for moving to Los Angeles. **

Reviews saluted the star, but the rough number was a bust at the box-office, 160th place in the ’88 lineup, a $1,884,000 gross vanishing into the $6,000,000 production tab.

With Charles Durning, Charles Haid (fresh off 144 episodes of Hill Street Blues), Raymond J. Barry and Randi Brooks (dudes, trust me—check your pulse at the door), Jan McGill, Vicki Wauchope, Dennis Stewart and Melinda Lynch. 110 minutes.

* Into the Woods. It’s not a question of ‘liking’:  The Onion Field, Fast-Walking, Salvador, Nixon, Chaplin, Ghosts Of Mississippi.

L.A. Circumstantial—forget living there or visiting, you wouldn’t think it would be safe to see it thru a telescope if you binged on this, Vice Squad, Boyz n The Hood, Mulholland Drive, Inherent Vice, Nightcrawler, End Of Watch, Rampart, Training Day, Colors, Pulp Fiction, Internal Affairs, The New Centurions, The Day Of The Locust, Assault On Precinct 13, To Live And Die In L.A., Body Double, L.A. Confidential, Grand Canyon, Falling Down, Short Cuts, Dark Blue, Boogie Nights, Crash, The Neon Demon, Babylon...