Joe Carnahan has carved out a niche for himself in the world of crime cinema, with films featuring cops, informants, and assassins. His latest project, The Rip, streaming on Netflix, sees him return to familiar territory. What sets this film apart is the casting of Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, whose involvement highlights Carnahan’s true talent: transforming actors into grittier versions of themselves. Last seen navigating the corporate world in Air, Damon and Affleck now portray cops embroiled in the murky world of dirty money, likely setting the stage for betrayal. While both actors could tackle such roles independently, Carnahan has a knack for facilitating this transition, as seen with Liam Neeson in The Grey, Patrick Wilson in Stretch, and a host of stars in Smokin’ Aces. His work on Ray Liotta’s character in the 2002 film Narc remains a standout early example.

Attempting to further toughen Ray Liotta’s image might seem redundant, given his established reputation for intensity, particularly in Martin Scorsese’s Goodfellas. Liotta rarely ventured into romantic comedies, and when he did, like in Something Wild, he added an edge to the genre. Even in lighter roles, such as his appearances in two Muppet films or Bee Movie, he often played up his intense persona.

By the time Narc debuted for a late-2002 awards-qualifying run, the aim was to potentially garner some awards attention for Liotta. His previous performances, like the one in Something Wild, didn’t quite align with the Oscars’ usual preferences, and while Goodfellas earned nominations, it was Joe Pesci and Lorraine Bracco who received the accolades. Narc was briefly considered a dark horse in the awards race.

The film drew comparisons to Training Day, released a year earlier, where Denzel Washington’s portrayal of a corrupt cop opposite Ethan Hawke won him a Best Actor Oscar. In Narc, the dynamic mirrors this to some extent. Jason Patric’s character, Nick Tellis, isn’t a rookie but an undercover cop haunted by a past tragedy. Offered a chance to return to the force, he teams up with the volatile Henry Oak, played by Liotta, to solve a cop’s murder. While Oak doesn’t overshadow Tellis with the same intensity as Washington’s character, he remains a dominant presence.

More than two decades later, Narc still resonates with its gritty depiction of Detroit’s underbelly—snowy streets, visible breath, and gritty confrontations. Rewatching it now, the film retains its early 2000s grit and flash, including some of the most chaotic handheld camera work of its time. Yet, it also stands out for its relatively streamlined and classically styled approach to neo-noir.

For example, Carnahan shoots the first moments of the first conversation between Oak and Tellis from a distance in a shadowy diner, more casually hard-boiled than lathered up into a macho rage. The two aren’t really pitted against each other until the movie is almost over, and though Oak is clearly the more volatile of the two, it’s not as if he seems beyond the pale, either. In another scene, Oak talks about his dead wife and his history as a cop; it’s crime-movie boilerplate, but the way Carnahan both holds on Liotta and observes him through a reflective car window gives the textbook material visual depth. I remembered the movie as being pretty self-conscious about its own sharp edges, and at times it is, but Carnahan himself has upped the ante far enough that Narc now looks modest and scrappy. Which, of course, it also was – a low-budget indie making a play for a little awards love.

Oak’s arc is probably a little too telegraphed to really register as enough to reward Liotta, who, after all, makes it look like he can summon these feelings easily. It didn’t help that 2002 was stacked with formidable male performances. In the Best Actor category at the Oscars, Adrien Brody eventually won over a field that included Nicolas Cage (Adaptation), Daniel Day-Lewis (Gangs of New York), and Jack Nicholson (About Schmidt). Down in supporting, you had Chris Cooper, Ed Harris, John C. Reilly, Christopher Walken, and none other than Paul Newman.

So there wasn’t necessarily room for Liotta among those, especially when considering that Narc, arresting as it is, never registers as ambitious on the level of a Scorsese crime movie. In retrospect, Narc introduced the next phase of Liotta’s career as blustery character actor. He went from leads and second leads throughout the ’90s to crime-movie overdrive (he’s part of the Smokin’ Aces ensemble, too). This probably did not need Carnahan to happen. Again, he wasn’t likely preparing a pivot to kindly-uncle parts. But Narc did give him the chance to do this material as a second lead. He gave plenty of colorful supporting performances between this one and his untimely death nearly 20 years later: Observe and Report, Killing Them Softly, and Marriage Story are among the many highlights. But he never really had a showcase like Narc again. Carnahan, too, more or less recused himself from awards plays going forward, almost as if out of respect – almost as if to say, look, these other guys need my help, but none of them will do it better than Liotta.

Jesse Hassenger (@rockmarooned) is a writer living in Brooklyn. He’s a regular contributor to The A.V. Club, Polygon, and The Week, among others. He podcasts at www.sportsalcohol.com, too.