Murder Is the Loneliest Profession You'll Ever Know

Lonely Hearts shows all the signs of an average true-crime film: a promotional poster baring the images of its solemn-faced stars; a sleek, neo-noir look and feel; fast-paced criminal hijinks; and Tony Soprano providing voice-over narration.

We soon learn, however, that we mustn't judge a murder movie by its glossy surface, as Lonely Hearts is, among other things, a film about how deceiving appearances can truly be.

Based on a true story about the 1940s murder spree of Martha Beck and Raymond Fernandez, Lonely Hearts follows John Travolta as detective Elmer C. Robinson, the star Nassau County investigator, and his gruff, wise-cracking partner, Charles Hildebrandt, played by James Gandolfini, on their quest to capture the deadly couple.

The tale of Fernandez and Beck has been told before, most notably in serial-killer aficionado faves The Honeymoon Killers and Deep Crimson. Those films portray the murderers as they physically were in life: he was tall, lanky, and incredibly handsome, whereas she was small and grotesquely overweight. Together, they were a rag-tag team that traveled cross-country to seduce vulnerable women, precisely the kind who would be baited by "lonely hearts" personal ads in the newspaper. After scamming these women out of their money, Fernandez and Beck would kill them, at times even staging the murders as suicides.

Lonely Hearts, however, places its emphasis on Detective Robinson, his melancholy and honest nature often juxtaposed with scenes of the murderers' dirty deeds. Writer-director Todd Robinson skillfully adds heart to a story that would otherwise be a mischievous, sensationalistic romp, and with good reason: Elmer C. Robinson was his real-life grandfather. Using his relative's vivid anecdotes about life as a prominent detective, Robinson directs with close attention to detail, imbuing the historical events with a personal feel.

"I view Lonely Hearts as a historical fiction," the director told me during a recent phone interview. "It's a personal story with a true-crime backdrop." Witness, for instance, a stellar opening sequence that begins with a seemingly happy housewife baking an anniversary cake and clipping newspaper articles on Detective Robinson's accomplishments... only to have the scene come to a grim end. We later find out that this was the detective's wife, and suddenly, the devotion he brings to his job becomes all too clear. The darker the case, the more Detective Robinson invests himself in it, often at the expense of his remaining loved ones.

This depiction of the Fernandez and Beck case is the darkest yet. Ray (a slimy Jared Leto) is a womanizing scoundrel, but he is no match for Martha (Salma Hayek), who is as demented as she is alluring. Robinson noted that casting Hayek was received with much controversy from the critics and the movie-going public alike. Not only is the actress not known for playing villains, but she is beautiful-a far cry from the real Martha Beck. Robinson justified his choice, claiming, "I cast Salma in the movie because she had the passion and courage to be completely unlikable." Rather than changing her appearance a la Charlize Theron in Monster, Hayek smartly plays up her looks, using them as a vehicle for the character to get what she wants. More than a femme fatal, Martha Beck is a damaged soul whose own history with abuse bestows her heinous crimes with an overwhelming sense of pathos. What she seeks is true commitment, which she finds in Ray-for better or for worse.

Running just under two hours, the film moves quickly, with the quiet scenes between Travolta and Gandolfini providing a nice contrast to the over-the-top madness of Leto and Hayek. While the narration is a tad overwrought, Lonely Hearts is a noble effort that tackles questions about commitment, purpose, and redemption, all while being an entertaining nail-biter. Those seeking a simple shoot-em-up flick need not apply.