Archive for May 2016
Elliot Rosen (Bob Balaban) has a problem. A year into his strike force’s investigation into the disappearance and probable murder of Joey Diaz, a popular Miami union leader, Rosen has no leads. To shake things up, he decides to pressure local liquor wholesaler Michael Colin Gallagher (Paul Newman) into telling the feds what he knows. The trouble is, Gallagher doesn’t know anything. Gallagher’s deceased bootlegger father and his uncle, Malderone (Luther Adler) have mob ties, but not Gallagher. He’s an honest businessman. That doesn’t stop Rosen from leaking a story naming Gallagher as a suspect in the Diaz case to Megan Carter (Sally Field). Carter, a reporter for the Miami Standard newspaper, writes the story and her paper publishes it on page one.
Then, it begins. The accusation slowly begins to destroy Gallagher’s life. His workers strike. His customers cancel their accounts. The IRS dissects his finances. His business falters.
“Why no Ziggy this week?”
Gallagher asks Carter where she got her information, but she won’t reveal her source. The newspaper staff stonewalls him and he gets no answers from the feds. Frustrated, he continues to dig into the matter and keep his business afloat until a tragedy forces him to act. When the controversy hurts his close friend Teresa (Melinda Dillon), Gallagher gets angry. He’s a smart man so he exacts a thinking man’s revenge.
Director, Sydney Pollack and writer Kurt Luedtke get the plot humming along nicely, then it stalls. You’re sucked in from the beginning and then Sally Field shows up and puts the brakes on. In this strong ensemble, she’s miscast. I can’t buy her hard-boiled reporter any more than I can buy her romance with Paul Newman.
“You say the nun FLEW?”
They have no chemistry and her jaded journalist has no credibility. I wonder if their romance was an afterthought added by producers to appeal to a wider audience. Anyway, the rest of the cast works a treat. Newman does a fine job as a gruff good guy who gets screwed and fights back. We like him. We’re outraged when he’s attacked and cheer him on when he reacts. Melinda Dillon is absolutely brilliant. Her voice, carriage, and even the way she holds a cigarette tell her story.
It’s a beautiful and poignant performance. She deserves her Oscar nomination. Then there’s Bob Balaban. He does weasely like no one else. Rosen, his self-righteous, arrogant federal prosecutor, worms his way onto your bad side and his quirky elastic band wringing is inspired.
“It’s my ball and if I can’t pitch I’m going home.”
I can’t think of this film without picturing Rosen’s odd little habit. Luther Adler as Gallagher’s mobster uncle is a lot of fun too. He clearly enjoys his role. I saved the best for last. Wilford Brimley as Assistant U.S. Attorney James A. Wells makes this movie. He has about eight minutes of screen time, but commands your attention for every second of it. His straightforward and logical approach to the case along with his homespun manner and way of speaking renew your faith in the justice system. Wells doesn’t listen to any excuses or rationalizations. In this world of half-truths and shades of gray, he’s a black and white breath of fresh air.
“Dammit. This courthouse has no Quaker Oats.”
The idea that a federal agency can rip an honest man’s life apart on a whim is scary. Add in a little sloppy journalism and it’s a nightmare. ABSENCE OF MALICE exposes the ‘ends justify the means’ mentality in our judicial system. It also shows the press’ desire to get to print first despite little proof a story even exists. Absence of malice, by the way, refers to the public figure doctrine in law. To win a libel suit, the plaintiff must prove the defendant knows the statement is false, but prints it anyway with reckless disregard to the truth. Without that proof, the plaintiff is powerless.
The fine acting, relevant topic, and fleshed-out characters make ABSENCE OF MALICE an entertaining and thoughtful film. I recommend it.
No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, (1624) by John Donne
Frank (James Caan) works alone. He and his partner, Barry (James Belushi) case the joints, research the electronics, have the proper equipment made, and pick up the ice themselves. They’re professional, sharp, and technically adept. They’re also thieves. After each robbery, Frank assesses the worth of the stolen diamonds and negotiates with a fence for a percentage of the street value. It’s a tidy operation. Frank funnels his end into a car dealership, a bar, and other businesses. Frank and Barry keep a low-key profile. Neither is flamboyant, violent, or prone to criminal outbursts. It’s the ideal set-up for a guy who likes control.
All these successful, high-end heists attract the attention of Leo (Robert Prosky), a crime boss with connections. At first, Frank declines Leo’s offer to work for him. Frank likes running the show. Leo’s offer to provide Frank with organized jobs, equipment, and backing proves too tempting though and Frank throws in with the syndicate. The avuncular Leo charms Frank, who lives a solitary life, but longs for something more. Frank’s desire to have a family and join the human race allow him to make moves that will connect him to people. For a man who understands the power that caring about nothing provides, these actions are risky. When Leo’s true nature comes to light, Frank has to decide how to extricate himself from his problems.
“Let’s do it to them before they do it to us.” Oops, wrong show.
The underdog concept has always made entertaining films, but in the 1960s, 70s, and 80s, the lone man fighting the system became a genre. Somewhere along the line, the establishment changed from comforting father figure to micromanaging bureaucrat and often the little guy got stomped on. LONELY ARE THE BRAVE shows Kirk Douglas tilting at windmills he doesn’t understand just because he won’t live the way everyone else does. In BULLITT, Steve McQueen solves crimes his way, even if he has to butt heads with crafty superiors like Robert Vaughn. In the most obvious comparison, CHARLEY VARRICK stars Walter Matthau as “the last of the independents”. He’s a crop duster and amateur bank robber who has to improvise to escape the wrath of the mob. Again, like Gary Cooper’s Will Kane, Jack Nicholson’s R.P. McMurphy, and James Caan’s Frank, Varrick has the odds against him and only his wits on his side. THE CONVERSATION, THE DRIVER, SERPICO, and the futuristic ROLLERBALL pit loners against criminals, police, entrenched corruption, and even John Houseman’s corporation simply because they want to live life on their own terms. Sean Connery even does his best lone wolf as a sheriff on one of Jupiter’s moons in OUTLAND, the HIGH NOON of space movies.
Sean on Jupiter
Despite the fact that THIEF leans on often-used themes, its take on the independent man breaks ground with the main character. Frank isn’t a cuddly guy, but he’s sharp and driven and a straight-shooter. As odd as it sounds, he’s honest. As an honest thief, he expects others to be square with him. When they’re not, Frank’s anger is palpable. He doesn’t lose control. Instead, he’s strong and menacing at times. In one of the best parts of the film, Frank is underpaid for a job and demands the rest of his cut. “My money in 24 hours or you will wear your ass for a hat.” James Caan revels in this role.
“Quit calling me Sonny.”
Michael Mann directed, wrote the screenplay, and executive produced THIEF, his first theatrically released film. The slick, stylized look later became a Mann trademark in the MIAMI VICE and CRIME STORY series and in films like MANHUNTER and HEAT. More than a simple action film, THIEF touches on larger themes of the connectedness of society and to what lengths a man will go to remain free. THIEF looks great too. Much of the film takes place at night, but director of photography Donald Thorin makes it work and the action and nearly wordless heist scenes are choreographed meticulously often with the music of Tangerine Dream adding texture.
Not quite a nihilist, Frank believes in nothing but himself and his own abilities. When he gets to that point, he knows no one can touch him. He knows he’s free.
This piece appeared originally in the Brattle Film Notes. Here’s the link. THIEF The Brattle Theatre in Cambridge, Massachusetts shows an odd assortment of classic, cult, independent, and foreign films in its cozy Harvard Square theatre. If you’re ever in the Boston area, you owe it to yourself to drop in for a film. It’s a lovely place.
Some questions are hard.
Every once in a while, someone will ask me what my favorite films are. My favorite films? Do you mean my favorite films with large, radioactive insects? My favorite films about the mob? My favorite westerns? War movies? Heist films? Films where the main character paints with his girlfriend’s blood? That’s the thing. I like a lot of films and quite honestly, my favorites change from day to day. Anyway, I saw Jay from thirtyhertzrumble.com posting his top 5 and I thought I’d give it a shot. The author of the Classic Film and TV Café, a blog about classic film and TV (no kidding), came up with the idea for this blogathon, but I found out about it too late so I’m posting my favorites anyway and attempting to give him credit. Here goes!
THE WOMEN (1939)
I’m not sure why, but I love fashion shows in movies. HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE has a fun one too. Great stuff. I’m not even a clothes person. I am not the woman with 200 pairs of shoes or an outfit for every occasion…at all. It doesn’t matter. The wacky over-the-top couture fits the ‘I can get my nails done daily because the hardest work I do all week is hail a cab’ lifestyle.
The clever and often overlapping dialogue written by Clare Booth Luce, Anita Loos, Jane Murfin, David Ogden Stewart, and even F. Scott Fitzgerald makes fun of the wealthy consumers in this film while still allowing us to like them. I’m not sure if it would pass the Bechdel test because these women talk about men a lot. They also talk about themselves and their hopes for family and love. Not all ambition hangs out in the boardroom, after all. The women in THE WOMEN talk about things that still come up today. I’m your wife and the mother of your children, but I still have to look like a model and greet you every day with a negligee on and a soufflé in the oven. I also have to be a good sport about it and look the other way when you pinch the cigarette girl. Welcome to 2016, 1939. THE WOMEN is a smart film that holds up.
A NIGHT AT THE OPERA (1935)
My teenager adores this film and the two of us sit on the couch and laugh like fools throughout the entire movie. If it’s on in the morning, she will get up. Let me repeat that. SHE WILL GET UP. Remember, she’s 18. I love this film. This is another movie with a ton of stuff going on. The asides and in jokes become clearer after each viewing and the physical humor is some of the best in film. The Marx brothers work so well together. The choreography and timing in the scenes in the ship’s stateroom and the hotel in New York are as complex as any dance number Fred Astaire dreamed up and the sarcastic put downs still crack me up. It’s worth seeing just for “Take Me out to the Ballgame” in the orchestra pit. Major smiles.
THE STRANGER (1946)
I’ve read that Welles didn’t care for this one, but he was wrong. There, I said it. First of all, it looks fabulous.
A gym has never looked so good.
Those shadows and chiaroscuro get me all hot and bothered. Also, Nazis. I love Nazis in films of the 1940s. It’s all black and white. There’s none of this police action/Vietnam/should we really be there crap. They’re Nazis. They’re bad. End of story. I also love films about the seedy underbellies of otherwise lovely places. SHADOW OF A DOUBT, BLUE VELVET, even THE ASPHALT JUNGLE and ROPE have that ‘Come over for a cup of tea, Aunt Clara. I’ll move the body out of the spare room.’ feel to them. Edward G. Robinson has a lot of fun with this one. Robinson takes his time ruminating over Welles and his possible ties to the death camps and insinuates himself into his life until it all goes pear-shaped for the murderer. Just terrific. Orson Welles makes a great bad guy too. I think Loretta Young is a bit shrill in THE STRANGER, but she unravels nicely.
While JAWS started the whole summer blockbuster thing, it wasn’t the first creature feature. Universal had THE WOLF MAN and DRACULA and the 1950s showed us what radiation could do to desert ants and crickets. In Japan, Godzilla and his cohorts/enemies (depending on which film you’re watching) destroyed and saved Tokyo countless times. Sometimes, the scientists found a creature in the ice. THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD and THE DEADLY MANTIS defrosted the terrible beings and hurled them at an unsuspecting public. THEM! gave us the prototype for the modern creature movies and it’s wonderfully done. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that Spielberg was a big THEM! fan. I digress. I love JAWS. There’s something about it that makes me so happy. The soulless leviathan threatens the lives and livelihoods of the citizens of Amity Island and Quint, Hooper, and Brody band together to kill the beast and save the day. Here’s another black and white film. The shark eats kids and dogs. He’s bad. He’s the Nazi of the sea and our heroes are the allied troops tasked with taking him out. What separates JAWS from many of the other nature vs. man films are the characters and the writing. We get to know these guys and we’re worried about them. We want Brody to get home to his wife and kids. We want Quint to get his Napolean Brandy. We also want Quint to run him into the shallows so Hooper doesn’t have to get into that damned shark cage.
I got no spit either.
Writers, Peter Benchley, Carl Gottlieb, and the uncredited John Milius fleshed out these men so we’d give a damn about them. They even wrote in the island as a character. There’s so much going on in this film that I see new things each time I watch it. That newness would come in handy on an island.
For the last film, I had a hard time deciding between HIS GIRL FRIDAY and HARVEY. They’re both funny and full of terrific performances, but HIS GIRL FRIDAY (1940) edged HARVEY out by a whisker. I love the frenetic, overlapping Hawksian dialogue and the amazing cast of character actors elevate this film above madcap comedy status. I would argue that HIS GIRL FRIDAY and CASABLANCA use character actors better than any films ever did. Roscoe Karns, Regis Toomey, John Qualen, Billy Gilbert, Porter Hall and Gene Lockhart make this film.
Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant are the stars, but without the reporters and the pols vying for a byline or political brownie points, it wouldn’t be the same. The comments delivered from the sides of mouths in this film keep the viewer on his toes too. You can’t sneeze while watching this for fear of missing 14 punchlines. It’s whip smart and prescient and I’m out of breath at the end of each viewing. This film is coming with me if I have to smuggle it in my sock.
These are my 5 favorites…this week. Come back next week, and I’ll probably have a different list.