MOVIE REVIEW : ‘KILLING’ LACKS EMOTIONAL DEPTH

It’s easy to see why the makers of “The Killing Floor” (at the Fox International) were fascinated by the story of Frank Custer, a black sharecropper turned labor organizer who became embroiled in the strife between blacks and immigrant whites in a World War I-era Chicago slaughterhouse. It’s an obscure, but compelling slice of history, worthy of a documentary or a highly charged piece of fiction.

Unfortunately, these film makers get mired somewhere in between, sticking scrupulously to the historical record, but never capturing enough of the obsessive personal struggle that could have made this an explosive drama.

Clearly shot on a bargain-basement budget, the film (which originally aired on PBS’ “American Playhouse”) focuses on Custer (Damien Leake), a soft-spoken field hand who heads North to the meat-packing houses of Chicago in hopes of eventually bringing along his wife Mattie (Alfre Woodard) and kids.

At the slaughterhouse, Custer thrusts himself in the midst of an emerging union battle. Beefy German immigrants like Bill Bremer (Clarence Felder) are warring for a wage increase while black workers like Heavy Williams (Moses Gunn) keep their distance, suspicious of the white-dominated union.

When the war ends and the economy falls apart, this uneasy alliance between the union, organizer Custer and his black recruits quickly unravels. Custer is left stranded, alienated from his black friends by his union loyalties but cut off from his union allies after the city erupts in a deadly race riot.

The film does a remarkably savvy job of capturing the rugged job of union organizing and showing how management exploited these ethnic tensions to stifle the union. But, like too many historical set-pieces, its preoccupation with the facts keeps the film in a dramatic straitjacket. The chronological facts are there, but the human truth is often missing.

With the exception of Bremer, all of the union organizers are cardboard figures. It would have been intriguing to see more of Custer’s budding friendships with his white union brethren, especially how they may have discovered or overcome their striking differences in cultural background.

Even if the story is too plodding and one-dimensional by far, much of the acting is superb. It’s disappointing to see Woodard cast in such a stock female role, but several other players have meatier parts, especially Leake, who neatly underplays his role as a wide-eyed innocent in awe of the big city. Gunn, who’s been sadly underutilized in recent years, is also excellent as the gruff, cynical slaughterhouse worker.

The problem here is that the film makers have stumbled on a poignant story loaded with heroism and bitterness, but they’ve failed to bring any of that struggle to the screen. (Director Bill Duke will be on hand tonight at the film’s 7:30 showing.)