From the outset, “Inside Man” is clear in its aspirations not just to entertain, but to be a smart, pointed thriller. Clive Owen stares into the camera, introduces himself as Dalton Russell, and goes on to declaim his brilliance in putting together “the perfect bank robbery.”

While Mr. Owen’s deep narration may be able to carry a film on its own (and I’m beginning to think it did the bulk of the work in “Sin City”), “Inside Man” stays ahead of the pack by giving the three big-name actors battling for prominence on its posters equally smart characters to match wits on-screen.

Between “Inside Man” and his previous film “The 25th Hour,” director Spike Lee is undergoing something of a renaissance. Though he has hardly abandoned his preferred racial subtexts, his latest work is much slicker around the edges and less awkwardly confrontational. He also appears so technically adept and adventurous that you could almost mistake “Inside Man” for a Soderbergh film. Here the camera works as an often unreliable narrator. As each of the characters is introduced, the camerawork speeds up or slows down, taking in their lush surroundings or focusing solely on facial movements – weighing in on how the viewer should judge them. Mr. Lee is deeply aware of the action-movie stereotypes he is dealing in, and takes full advantage.The film also benefits from a lush visual presentation thanks to cinematographer Matthew Libatique, who did groundbreaking work on Darren Aronofsky’s visually inventive “Requiem for a Dream.”

Denzel Washington, as Detective Keith Frazier, is a lower-middle-class officer with a heart of gold and a hard on (but no ring) for his girlfriend. Despite an unstable job situation, he’s got just the right amount of crazy gusto for the job at hand (so it’s a good thing his boss is conveniently out the day the film takes place). When he first learns about the bank robbery in progress, he throws on his coat and angled fedora with tongue perfectly in cheek: “Look out bad guys. Here I come.” Though Mr. Washington has created a character who seems unnaturally well-versed in the language of bank robberies and often eerily calm, his Frazier is the most human of the characters here. Occasionally he even allows cracks in his bravado to seep through.

And Mr. Owen, as he unblinkingly takes on the introductory close-up, has all the standard overconfidence of any upscale movie bank robber. His deadly calm voice is essential in a film where his beautifully battered face remains hidden behind a mask for most of his screen time, and his concentrated antagonism anchors a film bent on imbalance. As Frazier frantically tries to piece together the disjunctive pieces of Dalton’s puzzle at the scene of the crime, the camera flashes forward to the interrogations that Frazier and his partner conduct after the fact. At least some of the hostages – dressed anonymously by the robbers in painter’s overalls identical to those of the criminals – have survived this ordeal. But just as Frazier and his partner are trying to piece together what happened, the camera often moves so quickly and the characters are dressed so similarly that the audience loses its bearings and must play detective as well.

As Frazier interrogates various hostages, who may also be the robbers, he simultaneously disarms them and makes them ill at ease. It is at this point that the film begins to convey that Dalton is not the only one who knows more than he lets on.

And so Jodie Foster’s character, an expensive troubleshooter hired by the owner of the bank, acts as further subterfuge. From the onset, Madeleine White is a whirl of bluster, waltzing from real estate dealings with bin Laden’s nephew to the mayor’s inner offices in her perfectly tailored suit. Madeleine has no trouble asking for unbelievable favors without hesitation.

Though I would like to see Ms. Foster let her hair down on film sometime soon, it is a pleasure to have her on the big screen again, especially in a role that doesn’t force her to keep running after a missing child. Madeleine’s all-access credentials are provided by “certain interests” that are unnamed and quite powerful. Though at first it seems her supreme self-confidence is unwarranted, it soon becomes clear that a distinct air of danger lies just beneath the surface. When she calmly warns a chafing Frazier, “Careful, Detective. My bite is much worse than my bark,” it seems unwise to test her.

The triangulated power struggle among these three characters is the movie’s greatest strength. But there are too many guns, hostages, and powerful interests here for everyone to get what he wants. Or are there?

Just as Mr. Owen’s character reorganizes the vocabulary of the bank robbery, Mr. Lee is using the tools of the heist film to suit his purposes.

While some of his past films may have been overwhelmed by racial politics, Mr. Lee, ably aided by screenwriter Russell Gewirtz, uses the bouncing robbery plot as a means for apt racial observation here. When he’s not trying to think faster than the masked robber, Frazier banters with a xenophobic cop, an Albanian-hating construction worker, and the Albanian ex-wife who inspired this hatred.

These interactions are notable for their nuanced perspective on race, even if the racial angles still mark the film as a quintessential Spike Lee Joint. One of the better moments comes when a mild-mannered Sikh hostage is released from the bank. The detectives try to question him while he complains of his treatment, indignant that his turban has been taken. The black Frazier settles the situation with a quip: “But I bet you can get a cab, though.”

This pointed humor is why it is such a letdown when “Inside Man” falls prey to the restrictions of politically safe villainy. Here as in so many other films, the elderly white actor must succumb to what has become his birthright: to play the rich, well-dressed villain.

“Inside Man” manages to address the perilous relationship between all the races abutting each other in the melting pot of New York City while zipping us through a beautiful heist flick awash in the splendor of Mr. Owens’s baritone. But its final solution is ultimately a disappointment. Both Dalton Russell’s heist and Mr. Lee’s film eventually fail in their attempts to present a satisfying moral, but they certainly excel at entertaining along the way.

mkeane@nysun.com