Ricochet (1991)

Ricochet is the kind of early-’90s thriller that grabs you by the collar and refuses to let go, turning a seemingly straightforward cop-turned-DA story into a sweaty, mean, high-velocity nightmare about reputation, power, and revenge. Denzel Washington anchors the film with a grounded intensity that makes every escalation feel personal, while John Lithgow goes gloriously off the leash as a villain who’s less a man than a force of chaos—smart, theatrical, and genuinely unsettling. Director Russell Mulcahy keeps the movie moving like a runaway train, mixing punchy dialogue, lurid atmosphere, and sharp set pieces into something that’s both entertaining and nervy. Fair warning: it’s nasty and often disturbing, but if you want a crime thriller that’s fearless, suspenseful, and relentlessly propulsive, this one hits hard.

Ricochet is trying to be a slick, high-octane ’90s revenge thriller where a squeaky-clean hero gets dragged through the mud and has to claw his way back, and on that level it delivers relentless momentum and big, trashy set pieces. The problem is it often mistakes escalation for suspense, piling on increasingly nasty humiliations and outrageous twists that can feel more mean-spirited than thrilling, with dialogue that borders on cartoonish. Denzel Washington brings real commitment and John Lithgow is enjoyably unhinged, but the movie’s tone veers into lurid, exploitative territory and the “gotcha” plotting can feel obvious and dumb rather than clever. If you want a grounded crime drama or a tasteful thriller, this will likely irritate you; if you can handle a grimy, over-the-top ride with severe violence and disturbing sexual content, it’s a punchy time capsule of that era’s excess.