The lavish sums of money spent on The Cotton Club have obviously gone in large part to achieve meticulous and beautiful period detail. The Roaring Twenties in New York are convincingly recreated. My only criticism of the physical presentation is that I am beginning to get the impression that, prior to World War Two, all of life occurred in soft focus, warm lighting, and subdued earth tones. This stereotypical way of photographing the past is getting a bit shopworn for me, even if it is Coppola's forte. Of its type, the photography is lovely, and there are some very nicely lit scenes, particularly a love scene between Gere and Lane in which light streaming through a wire mesh on their naked bodies not only creates a beautiful effect, but appropriately symbolizes their characters' plights.
Few directors are capable of even thinking up such a shot, much less effectively executing it.
The second major strength of The Cotton Club lies in its characters and the performances of the actors. One of a show biz team dumping the other is a real Hollywood chestnut, but Gregory Hines really did it to his brother Maurice, and their recollections of the experience bring new life to the cliche. Coppola has found a good way to make use of Richard Gere's basic passivity, and Gere brings just enough fire to the role to convince us that circumstances hold him down, not character flaws. James Remar is chilling as Dutch Schulz. His sudden outbursts of rage and violence are a counterpoint to the more stable mobsters Coppola displayed in his Godfather films.