As Ellroy also has a stellar track record and can cite, among others, L.A. Confidential and The Black Dahlia amongst his work, the viewer could be forgiven for having high hopes for this movie.

And as the plot revolves around the morally-abject Los Angeles Police Department (addled with violence and political machinations) in which all the above tales take place, hopes of a thought-provoking crime thriller are palpable.

The thrust of the story, the existence of a violent group of officers operating illegally within the LAPD, is typical Ellroy.

Keanu Reeves, as Det Tom Ludlow, is the lead. He’s a member of the corrupt vice squad under the wing of the charismatic Captain Wander (Forrest Whittaker).

Despondent following his wife’s death, Ludlow embraces his job with a pit-bull relish, risking his life, drinking heavily and breaking rules.

However, following suspicions of gross misconduct involving the death of a police officer – and Ludlow’s partner (Terry Crews) – an internal affairs captain (Hugh Laurie) arrives to investigate the motley vice crew.

Ludlow soon finds himself under suspicion, with planted evidence implicating him in the shooting.

He is forced to team up with a young homicide cop (Chris Evans) in order to clear his name, bring the real killers to justice and, most poignantly, challenge the corrupt culture of his police colleagues.

The two then embark on an investigation which leads them into a game of cat-and-mouse, but unfortunately, the villains with whom they interact are never fully fleshed-out, and therefore only serve to detract from the seriousness of the story. The film showcases Ludlow, so the other characters are generally underwritten and serve more as plot devices.

While following leads and piecing together the puzzle, beer-swilling Ludlow becomes less distinguishable from his targets.

He conducts torture of one suspect with the use of barbed wire, decapitates another with a shovel, and makes macabre use of a telephone book.

But unfortunately, most of the police are depicted as rigid automatons, and the director misses the chance to moralise about the psychological effects of killing, or the by-products of this (alcohol consumption, depression) on honest police officers.

Po-faced Reeves was never going to follow in the dramatic footsteps of a Spacey, a Crowe or a Russell, the previous leads in Ellroy adaptions, but the frenetic pace and over-the-top action actually suits Reeves’ acting style. And since The Matrix (now nearly a decade old!) studio executives have learnt that audiences are reliably on his side.

Far more appealing is the supporting cast.