The homogenization of the American landscape proceeds apace in this violent urban thriller by erstwhile regional specialist Richard Pearce (Heartland, Country). Pearce sets the action in Chicago and New Orleans, though it’s hard to tell the cities apart: they’re both so anonymous and somber it’s as if a generic November had settled on each (New Orleans has more pelicans and Cajuns, but that’s about it for local color). Richard Gere plays a transposed Chicago cop on the trail of his partner’s killer, and makes a hard, chilly job of it (Gere is cold, but his Chicago boss George Dzundza is even colder: when Dzundza flies south for a visit, he’s like a constipated air mass moving in from Canada), but when Gere finally gets down to some serious romantic gawking with costar Kim Basinger (which is what the movie’s really about, I guess), everything comes to a halt. Pearce pads out his plot with lots of borrowed bits (notably from The 39 Steps, with Gere and Basinger as manacled fugitives), but the borrowings don’t have any resonance of their own: they simply hang on the story like empty thematic husks. With Jeroen Krabbe, William Atherton, and Bruce McGill; the taut, gritty images are by Canadian cinematographer Michel Brault.