Despite a gritty screenplay by Pete Dexter from Kim Wozencraft's factual book, Zanuck's debut feature fails to keep its dramatic sightlines clear. Perhaps it would take an ironist like the Kurt Vonnegut of Mother Night to give us some perspective on the two undercover narcotics cops (Patric and Leigh) who begin to use the stuff heavily as a cover, and blur into the sort of mess they're pledged to eradicate. Set in the unlovely '70s, there's no shortage of going downhill in loons. If the film doesn't cheat, it doesn't stir one to pity either, perhaps because neither lead is sympathetic - both cops pose and mumble - and their love affair on the physical level borders on rape. Leigh simply isn't police material, particularly for Texas. Eric Clapton's music and the presence of a villainous Gregg Allman will be flashcards to those who like that sort of thing. A downer.