The Gatekeeper

Of Mexican and American parentage, writer-director-actor Frey creates a central character with an identity crisis. Border Patrol agent Adam Fields (Frey), an earnest guardian against illegal aliens (the gatekeeper of the title), is determined to find a more effective way to deal with the problem. The important association in the life of this dour activist is not his fiancée or her family but rather macho buddy Jack Green (J. Patrick McCormack), a talk show host who leads an anti-immigration militia. Green's mantra is a dire warning about the new Mexican invasion which, once completed, will force Americans "to eat beans and tortillas" for the rest of your lives.

Agent Fields, consumed by his self-appointed mission to stop the flood of illegals, or seriously impede it, devises a plan to infiltrate a smuggling ring. He enters Mexico and represents himself to the smugglers as an undocumented Mexican crossing the border to seek work. He's armed with a spy camera to record the events in order to publicize the criminal activity and provide evidentiary basis for changes in the law. But the smugglers have their own spy in the agency and their gunmen wipe out all the right wingers waiting for Fields along with his film of the operation. Only Green escapes.

This leaves Fields to fend for himself as he and the band of illegals are taken at gunpoint to the hidden ranch of a crystal meth ring in Central California. Condemned to an agreed one year in servitude to help pay off the smuggling debt, he's then forced to live with the very people he so held in contempt. Relationships develop among the fellow captives and, when he's given medical attention and other support, his wall of rejection and indifference crumbles enough to ultimately recognize the interdependence people have for one another despite ethnic makeup.

As an actor, Frey is stolid and annoyingly unexpressive, despite handsome good looks. In a part calling for high-caliber charisma (Jimmy Smits or De Niro, say), he doesn't develop the appeal of a smirking Ben Affleck. The film, therefore, would have been destined for low interest even if it had a good script, which it didn't. By the time we build any sympathy for this agent, we're too road-weary to arrive at a dramatic destination. The overall problem with the movie is that the script is not energetic enough to raise the performance level of a middling set of actors; and the actors aren't creative enough to compensate for the deficiencies of a belabored screenplay.

Most confusing in its intent is Michelle Agnew's role as fellow abductee Eva Ramirez (Michelle Agnew), the mother of a young boy who idolizes the only role model around, Agent Fields. Eva refuses Fields' offer of help when he learns of her abuse at the hands of the gang boss, and discloses his true identity. Bravado and stiff backed rejection may provide sorely needed dialogue sparks and a rise in the emotional level, but it drives the principal thematic line into a dead end. This lady, saddled with a child, knows who her enemies are, but haughty stubbornness blinds her to see that her worst enemy may be herself. Frey's purpose in avoiding an emotional tie here might have been to avoid the commercial cliché of a love interest, but the film could have used it.

Limitations in writing judgment pervade the piece, though the effort each participant makes is admirable and their heartfelt performances are apparent on screen. Rising above that minimum standard is Anne Betancourt, who plays Lenora, the overseer and mother figure of the gang's chattels and the actor with the greatest potential. For all the sympathy she creates, however, the film's not about her, so a colorful character portrayal doesn't lift the enterprise. It's easy to see that, given a well-written role under strong dramatic guidance, she could be a world-class actress with rich potential in momma parts. She brings to mind Australian Vicky Haughton, who played indomitable grandma Flowers in Whale Rider.

The Bruce Springsteen track, "Sinaloa Cowboys," playing over the end credits, is the hottest thing in the movie, unfortunately demonstrating the visceral dynamic missing in a poorly guided attempt at message making.

They don't need his stinkin' badge.