
Euphonious place names can be deceptive. Whispering Glades in "The Loved One" was a cemetery. Coconut Heights in the Marx Brothers' first film was a swamp. Peyton Place was a hotbed of hot beds.
"Lakeview Terrace" sounds like a nice SoCal community for interracial newlyweds Chris and Lisa (Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington) to live, work and play. Why, they've just moved into their dream home there and discovered -- lucky surprise! -- that their next-door neighbor is a cop.
He's tough-as-nails LAPD officer Abel Turner (Samuel L. Jackson), the self-appointed neighborhood watchdog whose nightly patrols and ever-vigilant eyes are a source of security to everybody -- almost.
Turns out, there are more chips on his shoulder than on the blackjack table at Caesars Palace. He can't stand the idea, let alone the sight of, a white guy married to a black woman. He orders his teenage daughter to stay away from them. How much of a control freak is this guy? He makes his son cheer for Shaq instead of Kobe.
Abel starts raising Cain with Chris and Lisa, first by directing his burglar lights at their bedroom window, then by suburban-lawn warfare and other intrusions that escalate into serious harassment. By the time Chris and Lisa start fighting for their rights, they find themselves fighting for their lives as well.
In Abel's defense, he's still upset about the loss of his wife, and he's under a lot of stress at work -- dodging drug dealers' bullets, for instance. Something about that white liberal wuss in a prissy Prius just annoys the hell out of a macho black cop in a mega-SUV. Knowing what we do about Sam Jackson, it's hard to believe his diabolical character will remain so to the bitter end. We anticipate the redemption.
On the other hand, knowing what we do about writer-director Neil LaBute's perverse penchant for the provocative, we can't necessarily count on it. His distasteful "In the Company of Men" (1997) dealt with men who dump women as a game. His "Nurse Betty" (2000) was the wonderfully offbeat tale of a woman obsessed with a soap-opera star. "The Wicker Man" (2006) was a dud of a horror remake. The oeuvre is a mixed bag, to say the least.
The cast in his thriller at hand, however, is a fine one. Jackson is unparalleled at projecting menace; Wilson is the quintessential wimp; Washington is both beautiful and believable. But one can't help thinking that LaBute's main purpose is to exploit, rather than examine, the violent prejudices surrounding miscegenation.
The backdrop involves the encroaching (apocalyptic?) wildfires that are getting closer and closer to the black and white domiciles of Lakeview Terrace alike. Metaphor -- or just distraction?
Will Smith produced this movie, which makes the fine line between racial and racist material even fuzzier. But that issue, as a prominent Democrat would say, is above my pay grade.
Screenwriter David Loughery has said his goal was to make the audience feel uncomfortable. In that regard, as a prominent Republican would say, "Mission accomplished."