The juvie's name is Brad Whitewood, Jr., and when we meet him, he's--aptly--driving around in circles. Through his windshield, Brad is eyeing Masterson's Terry, and before it becomes stalking (or maybe at the point that it does), he steps out of the car to introduce himself. Their meeting could hardly go better: they arrange a date for the following day. The novelty of a girlfriend, as well as the suffocating prospect of a new, domineering stepdad, emboldens Brad to ingratiate himself in the life of his birth father, a common thief and occasional palimony contributor. Brad Sr.'s confident sleaze wins over his son (actually, sons--impressionable Tommy (Christopher Penn, Sean's real-life sibling) sometimes tags along); everyone shows poor judgment when Brad Jr.'s circle hooks up with Brad Sr.'s gang: it renders the former expendable, as Brad Sr. is all business when it comes to his partners in crime.

At Close Range builds to a great closer that is open but dramatically satisfying, even rewarding--the emotional bubble of this composed, meditative film finally bursts. (Madonna's plaintive theme song, "Live to Tell", picks up the pieces during tail credits.) The middle is cluttered up with supporting characters of stand-in importance (played by the pre-fame likes of Kiefer Sutherland and David Strathairn), and the period setting is unconvincing--director James Foley's Michael Mann-isms, such as the soundtrack of brooding electronica, establish an eighties flavour, and the pompadours on display are just too tasteful. Minor infractions, all.

No surprise that At Close Range is based on a true story, for it behaves like the everyday. When my father asked for a plot synopsis, I found I was able to summarize the film in three or four sentences that evoked its somewhat mundane, thoroughly unpleasant universe. "You have to wonder why they made it," he responded innocently, and indeed, immediately after it's over, one does find himself doubting the usefulness of such depressing anti-escapism except to deglamourise the myths Hollywood has made out of not only the criminal lifestyle but also family ties. Yet this might be reason enough for its existence, and why ask why when the film in question is so bloody powerful.

At Close Range is available in its original aspect ratio for the first time on home video with MGM's new DVD edition. Letterboxed at 2.35:1 and optimized for 16x9 displays, the image is smooth and silky, and the print used for this transfer is in extraordinary shape. There is an overall softness to the cinematography that seems a shared trait of everything Juan Ruiz Anchia shoots (e.g. A Far Off Place, Mr. Jones); whatever the case, I prefer its appearance to harsh over-enhancement. A full-frame transfer, which looks older and more tattered, is proffered on the B-side of this disc. Its additional vertical information will surely confound those unfamiliar with the process known as Super35. Audio is presented in Dolby Surround, and while voices sound a mite clipped, they're always easy to decipher. Throughout, there is more bass than surround information, although very little of either. Extras: a trailer.-Bill Chambers