"Slow Burn" | Not your typical urban crime drama

Critics are often accused of behaving like power-mad prosecutors, putting some poor little film on the witness stand and then tearing it apart, looking for flaws, tarring it with guilt by association and blaming it as much for what it didn't do as for what it did.

But sometimes we play devil's advocate, too. And the truth is, "Slow Burn" isn't nearly as bad a film as its own studio seems to think it is.

It's not a brilliant movie. It's certainly not worth canceling any appointments to catch at the theater. But it's more than worth a quick look on cable, or even an impulsive rental. And it deserves better than being tossed away, sans screenings or even much advertising, as Lionsgate did Friday.

Directed by first-timer Wayne Beach — who previously wrote a couple of action scripts for Wesley Snipes — the movie plays like a black "The Usual Suspects." Ray Liotta has the Chazz Palminteri part, a district attorney who has until dawn to figure out just who a shadowy, never-seen master criminal really is. Mekhi Phifer, Taye Diggs and L.L. Cool J are just some of the people who may, or may not, hold the key.

The presence of the rapper — here going under his given name of James Todd Smith — and the under-the-radar release make this seem like one of those hyper-violent gangsta pictures the studios shovel out regularly, with a patronizing smile and an eye on a quick buck. But Beach is trying for more than that.

In actuality, Smith has a relatively minor part, and isn't particularly impressive (like a lot of hip-hop stars, he still confuses sullenness with presence). But the rest of the cast play interesting, offbeat characters. And the movie has an intriguing take on a couple of things, particularly racial identity.

It turns that theme into a character played by Jolene Blalock, here making her feature-film debut. "A trick of the light," one character calls her, and in one sequence — as she walks past a line of glass panels, each one casting a slightly different color — we see what he means. Is she white, or black, or both? No one seems quite sure, and that's the clever touch — both white and black men get a kick out of thinking she's the other.

The movie is trying for something beyond the usual "urban action" clichés, and sometimes connects. It has a few good performances, a soulful soundtrack and at least one smart message: Never believe that things are exactly as they appear. Too bad the lesson was lost on its own studio.