Powerful acting, stark images propel 'Fifty Dead Men Walking'

Kari Skogland's fact-based thriller "Fifty Dead Men Walking" is a gritty, character-driven throwback to Sidney Lumet's 1973 fact-based undercover cop drama "Serpico," this time without the cop.

The unlikely undercover agent here is a street hustler in 1988 Belfast, Ireland, the center of violent political clashes between the Irish Republican Army and the British soldiers occupying the city.

Like "Serpico," "Fifty Dead Men Walking" begins with the shooting of the main character, here, Martin McGartland, taking six bullets from a would-be assassin.

Appealing English actor Jim Sturgess plays Martin as a conflicted soul constantly drawn into suspenseful circumstances.

The IRA could discover his treachery at any moment!

We already know how the IRA deals with people it doesn't like. IRA agents dislike Martin's friend Frankie (Conor MacNeill) so much, they decide to make an example of him by blasting his kneecaps off with a gun.

This is partly the reason that Martin goes undercover for the Brits. The other part of his motivation comes from a British intelligence agent named Fergus, played by an unusually sedate Ben Kingsley.

Fergus, a canny agent, pushes just the right buttons to persuade Martin to infiltrate the IRA and tip the Brits to terrorist activities. (The real Martin reportedly saved the lives of 50 people targeted by IRA assassins, hence the title.)

Sturgess' transparent portrait of Martin dominates this drama with such immediate, egoless power that it easily compensates for the times that the story falls into confusing alliances among a kajillion factions scrambling for political traction in Belfast.

Skogland knows how to pressurize tense situations for maximum payoff. Our concerns for Martin grow when he inadvertently places his girlfriend Lara (Natalie Press) and their new baby in harm's way.

Belfast from 1988 is captured in stark and grainy urban settings by cinematographer Jonathan Freeman, who gives the story a raw and realistic hardness.

Nonetheless, Skogland reveals her television directorial background with a constrained dramatic scope, as if "Fifty Dead Men Walking" could have easily been a really well-done cable movie afflicted with thicker-than-fog Irish brogues.

Note: Because the Irish accents are so heavy, all Chicago-area prints are equipped with subtitles.