Set in the early 1970s against a backdrop of urban decay and corruption, “American Gangster” aims to be more than another crime drama. It tries to show that Harlem’s gangsters aren’t crooks, but rather businessmen with dreams.

Denzel Washington stars as Frank Lucas, a debt collector and driver for legendary crime boss Bumpy Johnson (Clarence Williams III). When Johnson kicks the bucket early in the film’s narrative, his death provides a vacuum of power on the streets of Harlem that Lucas is all too eager to fill.

Tapping his predecessor’s system of Mafia partnership and free turkeys at Thanksgiving, Lucas takes the crime game one step further when he begins importing heroin direct from Southeast Asia.

Selling speed at half the price for twice the potency has profits running high for Lucas and his trail of associates.

To ensure the integrity of his product, Lucas drives out the competition with a mixture of violence and swift business acumen. Cuba Gooding Jr. gets off with a stern warning, but other pushers do not fare as well. In a move straight out of “New Jack City,” Lucas also enforces a strict nudity policy at the mixing tables.

Frank Lucas occupies half the script’s concentration; the rest belongs to Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe), a straight-laced New Jersey detective whose reputation precedes him. After turning in a million dollars in unmarked bills, Roberts finds himself ostracized from a department known largely for taking handouts. To compound his troubles, he and his wife (Carla Gugino) are going through a divorce. Lucky for him, law school provides a distraction.

Clocking in at just over two and a half hours, the film allows time for each side of the story to unfold. However, director Ridley Scott (“Alien,” “Gladiator”) seems out of form navigating through Harlem’s criminal underbelly. It’s a solid effort, but it lacks brutality. Set and costuming conspire to give the film a pulp feel that is lacking elsewhere.

Similarly Denzel Washington’s performance is up to suspect. He wears Lucas’ ruthlessness with rigidity. The performance is a crossroads, with the actor reconciling his love of playing the hero with the success he’s found in the past playing more villainous roles. The result, a villain with a heart of gold, seems insincere.

Russell Crowe fares better, but his performance is reined in. Among his talents is an ability to act through the trappings of a period drama to deliver a strong performance, and it is no different here. He’s not deterred by what might normally trip up the everyday actor – wigs, costumes, accents, and mannerisms are all his friends.

The script, adapted from Mark Jacobson’s article “Return of Superfly,” plays out methodically. It’s insistence on giving equal screen time to Lucas and Roberts serves as a detriment to pacing. Frankly, Roberts’ life just isn’t as exciting as the life of a millionaire drug boss. Much of what comprises his segment of the story appears excessive – his divorce and his womanizing, while interesting factoids to the character, are unimportant to the story at hand.

Another dilemma is that it takes Roberts and Lucas too long to finally face off. Those in the audience waiting for a satisfying Russell Crowe/Denzel Washington square-off are left hanging until the very end.

Ultimately, the film wants to make a case for Lucas as a legitimate businessman, as nothing more than an example of American entrepreneurialism. In doing so, it turns the villain into something more akin to a tragic hero. But which is the greater truth? The simple answer is that he is both, but the script fails to provide an intersection between these two identities.

Sure, Lucas indulges his family, employs his brothers, and takes his mother to church every Sunday. He has all the trappings of a decent man, but the character seems devoid of humanity. After all, a man who can so easily set another man on fire and pump him with bullets as he burns can’t be a good man underneath it all