Blood Work (2002)

Directed and produced by Clint Eastwood

At the scene of a crime, FBI agent Terry McCaleb (Clint Eastwood) sees someone he suspected was the serial killer he had been tracking. Giving chase, McCaleb suffers a severe heart attack and collapses. Two years later, the retired McCaleb is approached by Graciella Rivers (Wanda De Jesus), who wants his help in finding the murderer of her sister, killed during a convenience store robbery. When he learns that it was the dead woman’s heart that was transplanted into his chest, McCaleb decides to look into the unsolved felony, but finds old crimes, and old criminals, have yet to be laid to rest.

A largely ordinary crime/thriller, Blood Work nonetheless benefits from its leading man. Eastwood, 72 when he made this movie, may be a bit old for the part, though shaving a few years off that age for McCaleb is not unrealistic. Yet, ironically, it is Eastwood’s age that helps makes the character convincing.

Many movie detectives are weary of their jobs, of the world which they inhabit, the people with whom they must interact. McCaleb is tired, but more physically than anything else. He takes things slowly, gives no indication that he regrets his retirement and is happy to live quietly. Though unstated, it is implied that he was satisfied with catching killers and saving lives. But his bodily condition has put limitations on him, physically, and Eastwood convincingly plays a man who knows these limitations and tries to live accordingly.

De Jesus fills her role adequately, but doesn’t bring anything outstanding to the part. The other actors, except for Jeff Daniels and Paul Rodriguez, are mere place-fillers, Anjelica Huston’s thankless role as McCaleb’s doctor being a surprise. So too is Dylan Walsh as a police detective; though he had had bigger, fuller roles previously, notably in 1994’s Nobody’s Fool, he does little more here than follow Rodriguez about. And Rodriguez is an annoyingly abrasive and callous character of whom a viewer wants to see less.

Daniels makes the most of his contribution as McCaleb’s slacker neighbour, a self-proclaimed loser, who provides the enthusiasm that McCaleb is trying to control in himself, for the sake of his heart.

The story, though rather far-fetched, as many serial-killer movies tend to be, is at least interesting, though the revelation of the murderer’s motivation may be guessed by the more attentive viewer. There are a few good action scenes, but the climax is too drawn out and incredible. There is no reason why McCaleb could not have summoned police support for the confrontation with the killer. The romance between Eastwood and Rivers is understandable but perfunctory, and would probably have been better left as potential than actual.

A decent if unremarkable movie, Blood Work succeeds largely because Eastwood acts his age. For long a macho and robust performer, he leans into his literal weaknesses here, and adds more as the film’s lead actor than as its director and producer.