Film Reviews: One Week & The Goat

 "One Week"

*** 1\2 (out of ****)

It's the age old question film buffs  will debate throughout eternity. Who was funnier, Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin? For my entire life I was a Chaplin man. Chaplin was not only my favorite silent film comedian but my favorite comedy filmmaker of all-time. Knowing that this year's blog theme would be Life is Short - a year long look at short films, with an emphasis on comedy, I was anticipating reviewing two-reelers with both Chaplin and Keaton. I decided to watch the Chaplin comedies first with a focus on the ones he made for the Mutual Film Corporation. I hadn't seen some of them in 30 years - I hate that I am at an age where I can say that and it's not an exaggeration. A  strange thing occurred as I watched them. I didn't sit and marvel at Chaplin's comedy gifts. I wasn't in awe. I found the comedies  to be lacking in humanity. They were what I call "kick in the ass" comedies. These are comedies were a character gets kicked in the ass and the audience is supposed to find it uproariously funny. Nearly all twelve of the Chaplin Mutual comedies featured someone getting kicked in the ass - repeatedly! The only reason one of them didn't was because it was a one man showcase for Chaplin. He's the only character in it! Otherwise these were low brow comedies. I was astonished. This wasn't the Chaplin of  "Modern Times" (1936), "City Lights" (1931), or  "The Kid" (1920). The world no longer made sense to me. Which of Chaplin's comedies would I review? In my confusion I turned to Buster Keaton. What a difference!

Where I found Chaplin crude in comedies such as  "The Fireman" (1916) and "The Pawnshop" (1916), Keaton was innovative and sophisticated. There was no kick in the ass comedy here, just beautifully constructed sight gags. Why hadn't I noticed this before? Suddenly I saw real intelligence in Keaton's comedies. True, there were a few years separating these comedies but the difference between "The Pawnshop" and Keaton's  "One Week" (1920) is night and day. Had comedy styles changed that much in the course of four years? If they had, I must admit, it may have been thanks to Keaton. 

There may be some truth to that. Buster Keaton got his start working alongside another silent comedy legend, Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle. Keaton's first screen appearance was in the Arbuckle's comedy "The Butcher Boy" (1917). That isn't really a "kick in the ass" comedy, despite having an opening scene where a character does do that. Arbuckle had a good sense of plot and gives Buster a moment to shine. But as soon as Keaton ventured out on his own, I hate to admit it, but he makes the two-reelers of Chaplin and Arbuckle seem "creaky", like outdated examples of film comedy. Don't get me wrong, "One Week" shows its age but you could sooner adapt it to the modern age than you could say Chaplin's "The Pawnshop". Keaton's two-reeler comedies have a different sensibility to them that in a way make them timeless.

Keaton's defenders often said his character, which would come to be known as The Great Stone Face, was always thinking. When we watched a Keaton comedy, we saw a mind at work. That sentiment hadn't meant much to me previously. It washed over me as empty words. But as I sat and watched "One Week" it hit me like, well, a kick in the ass. It becomes one of the main pleasures watching a piece like "One Week" as Buster tries to figure out how to overcome one obstacle after another. Naturally he doesn't do it with dialogue and he doesn't do it with exaggerated facial expressions. It's all body language and in his eyes. It truly is a fantastic comedy performance.

"One Week" was Buster's first two-reeler without  Arbuckle and was co-directed and written by Buster and Edward Cline. Buster plays one half of a newly married couple. The other half is Sybil Seely. On the day of their wedding Buster receives a letter from his uncle informing him he has bought him a house as a wedding gift. The thrill and excitement of such a generous gift is soon deflated when the couple discovers they must put the home together.

This simple premise - which Buster said was inspired by an educational short film on prefabricated housing - lends itself easily to great comedy serving as a commentary not only on domestic life but a relatable critique on DIY trends that exist even today - you can learn how to do anything watching YouTube videos. Sometimes it is best to leave things to the professionals though and take pride in quality craftsmanship.

Structurally "One Week" is an episodic comedy with a purposely plot-less narrative. You may also notice Buster and Cline tell their story with a limited amount of intertitles. There just isn't any need for them. The story is told completely visually. The only constant cutaway is to a calendar, signifying a new day, which based on the title, will take place over a week's time. These could be seen as  "chapters". Each brief day presents a new challenge Buster must overcome while his wife stands by and complains. 

The initial catalyst for Buster's building problems was caused by a jealous rival (who to this day remains uncredited) who was upset Sybil didn't accept his marriage proposal. Unknown to the couple he changes the numbers on two boxes which indicate the order in which they should be assembled. The final result makes their home look like something out of  "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" (1920).

Comedies dealing with construction or simply having anything to do with using your hands, often provided good fodder for comedians. It easily allows for a commentary on masculinity. Real men are good at building things and using their hands. That's  what makes them construction workers and mechanics. Men take pride in what they build whether it is professionally or as a hobby. What greater defeat to a man's ego than not being able to assemble something? "One Week" doesn't lean into this message and hit us over the head with it but it is there nonetheless. In a strange way it is part of the appeal of watching it. It's often called the "superiority theory" of humor. We feel better about ourselves - and thus superior - when we see someone else fail. That's why you see comedy teams like the Three Stooges or Laurel & Hardy in these type of professions. Watching "One Week" reminded me of a Laurel & Hardy silent comedy called "The Finishing Touch" (1928) where they are also trying to build a house.

In some ways "One Week" is a kind of forerunner to one of Keaton's feature-length comedies, "Steamboat Bill, Jr." (1928). Both comedies feature a violent storm causing man to fight the elements. In "One Week" the storm causes their home to spin in a circle. In "Steamboat" of course there is the famous cyclone sequence which at one point causes the front structure of a building to fall forward as Buster stands precisely in the spot where a window would have been. That gag is done here but at a much smaller scale. It also doesn't build the same level of suspense as it does in "Steamboat". We can anticipate the gag coming from the camera set-up as it is positioned directly in front of Buster in an extreme long shot. In "One Week" it all happens rather quickly. However this clearly shows this was a gag Buster liked and was figuring out a way to perfect it. And boy did he ever!

If there is a criticism for "One Week" it is that it's heavily dependent upon plot based humor, meaning the film is a collection of comedy set-pieces but there is no real emotional involvement. We know nothing about Buster's character - not even his name! This is as opposed to character base humor, where we would have a sense of who this is and the humor derives from their personality traits. Think Laurel & Hardy, Jack Benny, or W.C. Fields. So when we watch "One Week" the purpose of it is to go from joke to joke, expecting nothing more.  

While Keaton deserves much of the credit for the success of "One Week", I would like to briefly mention the co-director and co-writer, Edward Cline. Cline was an old gag man that worked for Mack Sennett. He would go on to work for "Fatty" Arbuckle, W.C. Fields and the comedy teams of Wheeler and Woolsey and Olsen & Johnson. His association with Keaton did end here either. He and Keaton worked on several of Keaton's early post-Arbuckle shorts - "The Scarecrow" (1920) and "The Paleface" (1922) among them as well as Keaton's first feature-length film, "The Three Ages" (1923). Individuals like Cline, Clyde Bruckman, Felix  Adler, and Sam Taylor aren't names audiences may recognize but if you pay attention to the credits of Keaton, Harold Lloyd and Three Stooges comedies you will repeatedly see their names. They were all great gag men that worked with the giants.

"One Week" is a terribly fast moving comedy built around some terrific visual gags. Keaton wanted to prove he could be a big laugh getter in his first outing without Arbuckle and I'd say he succeeds. This is a classic two-reeler comedy featuring gags Keaton would come back to in later comedies such as "Steamboat Bill, Jr." and his talkie "Parlor, Bedroom and Bath" (1931).

"The Goat"

*** 1\2 (out of ****)

Comedies like "The Goat" (1921)  were once referred to as  "chase comedies". These type of comedies are best remembered today for starring Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd. They were comedies built around spectacular chase sequences. "The Goat" may be the best of Keaton's two-reeler chase comedies with only "Cops" (1922) as another contender.

Co-directed and co-written by Keaton and Malcolm St. Clair - another comedy veteran - we notice a distinct difference between this and "One Week". We are getting a greater sense of the Keaton character in dress and mannerism. This is still a plot based comedy but character traits are being developed. And of course there are some smartly written set-pieces. There are a lot of plot holes here but  "The Goat" has always been one of my favorite Keaton two-reelers.

The title derives from the word scapegoat as Keaton is mistaken for an escaped criminal. You see Keaton was innocently walking past a prison when he saw Dead Shot Dan (St. Clair himself) getting his picture taken for the rogues gallery. Apparently Keaton is fascinated by this and continues to watch, looking through the bar window. When the photographer conveniently turns his head for a moment, Dan takes a picture of Keaton and then covers the camera lens. After the photographer thinks he has taken Dan's picture, Dan makes his move for his escape. Next thing you know it's Keaton's picture plastered on the front page of a newspaper with a reward for his capture! 

How could this have happened? It implies the police didn't know what Dead Shot Dan looked like despite being face-to-face with him. The photographer knows Dan wasn't behind bars when he took the photo. And how on earth did the photo get developed so fast and into the hands of a newspaper to be published on the front page all in the amount of time it took Keaton to ride a train from one town to the next! But why on earth allow logic to interfere with a good comedic premise? Some things just aren't done!

This would normally be enough plot for a two-reeler. It could possibly revolve around the police looking for the real Dan, who is hiding, and Keaton either just hiding himself or trying to find Dan, being able to put two and two together. But that's not what "The Goat" is about. Somehow or other it goes from this inventive situation to some kind of romance with Keaton interested in a woman that he defended from a rude man.

Keaton has said much in his  films were improvised. He and his gag writers had a beginning and an end. The middle would be made up as they went along. It shows in "The Goat". The love interest feels like an add on instead of something that was truly developed. I'd find it hard to believe if Keaton and St. Clair originally went into "The Goat" focusing on this sub-plot and not exclusively on the criminal escape portion. But without any attempt to find the real criminal, either on Keaton's part or the police, "The Goat" has nowhere to go and so we get this rushed, tacked on resolution.

And yet despite these flaws there is no denying "The Goat" is a very funny comedy. The film starts off with a great gag. Keaton is some kind of destitute man standing in a breadline. He tries to cut ahead of the line and is immediately sent back to the end. What Keaton doesn't realize is he has gotten behind two mannequins and becomes impatient when the line doesn't start moving. This is a wonderful premise perfectly executed by Keaton's timing and the camera. At first only Keaton and the mannequins are in the shot. Then it goes to an extreme long shot so we see how far away Keaton is from the real line. And back it goes to the tight shot of Keaton and the mannequins. This demonstrates how Keaton and St. Clair knew how to tell a joke with the camera. Compare this to "One Week". That short is basically comprised of nothing but extreme long shots. There is no real storytelling with the camera.

This sequence also showcases Keaton's timing. He makes the situation believable and makes us consider, well, I guess this mistake could happen to someone. We buy it because of the way Keaton sells it.

I don't want to reveal any more comedy sequences but "The Goat" also highlights the mind at work aspect of Keaton's comedies as he is quick on his feet thinking up ways to avoid the police which also demonstrates his great athletic ability and capable to do his own stunts. The stunts though aren't meant to be viewed as stunts but merely a continuation of his actions. Keaton doesn't want us to stop and consider what went into these stunts. Instead he finds the humor in his actions. Many times in "The Goat" and his other two-reelers, Keaton's actions lead to a vicious circle. When he outruns the police in "The Goat" he is never able to really escape them because somehow fate brings him back to where he started, face-to-face with the same cops he momentarily lost.

Another brief word about Keaton's collaborator here, Malcolm St. Clair ( I hate for these names to be completely ignored). Like Edward Cline, St. Clair also got his start as a gag man working for comedy producer Mack Sennett, which would allow him to work alongside Mabel Normand, Edgar Kennedy and Ben Turpin. In the "talkie" era he worked for 20th Century Fox as a director for some lesser Laurel & Hardy comedies such as "The Dancing Masters" (1943) and "The Big Noise" (1944). The one bright spot may have been "The Bullfighters" (1945). He and Keaton would also work on another two-reeler, "The Blacksmith" (1922).

Rewatching these comedy shorts has made my appreciation for Buster Keaton's comedies grow. In many ways his two-reelers were far ahead of what other comedians from the era were doing. "One Week" and "The  Goat" are two excellent examples of the kind of fast moving, smart comedies Keaton was making. His talent and ingenuity would only expand when he began making feature-length comedies.

Film Review: The Passenger - 50th Anniversary

 "The Passenger"

 **** (out of ****)

"The Passenger" (1975), Michelangelo Antonioni's masterful study on identity, alienation, isolation and desolation celebrates its 50th anniversary, remaining as relevant as ever.

When film critic Roger Ebert originally reviewed the Italian filmmaker's English language effort, he questioned the film's title. "Passenger" he thought referred to a nameless female character played by Maria Schneider. But if Schneider is the passenger does that make Jack Nicholson's David Locke character "the driver"? That can't be because a driver always has a destination in mind. David Locke does not. While this may sound like the ramblings of a Hungarian mad-man, it's actually a key insight into Antonioni's film. "The Passenger" is about many things. One of them is about people with no destination. Life is the driver and we are all merely passengers aimlessly traveling along on its journey.

Antonioni's work may be a challenge for some viewers. His style and pacing reflect a different era of moviemaking. The films of Antonioni are about tone and moods. They are as much about our experience watching them as they are about plot. In fact, Antonioni often made the audience confront their expectations of narrative film. His most famous example would be "L'Avventura" (1961), a film seemingly about the disappearance of a woman and the recovery search for her but it never comes to a resolution. "The Passenger" is also about a disappearance of sorts, that doesn't come to a resolution (some) movie goers may find satisfactory.

The film speaks to the disillusionment and uncertainty of its time period, coming after President Nixon's resignation and the U.S. ending its involvement in Vietnam. People lost trust in their government and its institutions. This correlates to one of the great contributions Antonioni had on cinema, as pointed out in Peter Bondanella's rewarding book Italian Cinema From Neorealism to the Present. Bondanella writes of Antonioni's "ability to portray modern neurotic, alienated, and guilt-ridden characters whose emotional lives are sterile - or at least poorly developed - and who seem to be out of place in their environments."

It is precisely because of the themes of alienation and detachment from one's environment, it would seem "The Passenger" would be able to resonate with modern viewers. Living in a world with an increasing and alarming reliance upon "social" "media", we are alienating and detaching ourselves from reality and human contact. We can "disappear" and become whomever we want to be on-line. I like what The New Yorker critic Richard Brody, who reviewed a DVD release of the film, wrote when discussing the theme of alienation in Antonioni's work stating "the particular kind of alienation he devoted his career to is the one that was most crucial to his times, the kind resulting from the rise of mass media."

It is no coincidence than that the protagonist in Antonioni's film is in the media business. David Locke is an English reporter sent to North Africa to make a documentary on a developing political situation in the country. He is attempting to interview the rebellious guerrillas. 

Through David's profession, "The Passenger" is able to make a larger commentary on the idea of truth and more specifically truth in the media. At various times in the film we are shown clips of the documentary being worked on. Each time we see the footage, it brings up the different ways media is used and how it can manipulate us. The first time we see the documentary, David is interviewing to the President, after which his wife (Jenny Runacre) confronts David about for not standing up to the President's lies. David calmly tells her it's all part of the game. And so our first lesson is the media is a tool for propaganda. The second time we see the documentary it is footage of a political execution, blurring a line between sensationalism and objective reporting. The third and final time is of another interview David was conducting but this time with a witch doctor. The doctor turns the tables on David and instead of providing direct answers to his questions, decides to film David instead. The shift in point-of-view is meant to signify our own inherent bias in our search for truth. David's preconceived notions about the doctor obstruct an objective desire for truth.

These sequences showing the documentary material may blend into another theme we see at the beginning of the film, communication. Being in a different country David is unable to communicate with the villagers he encounters. He is hoping someone can take him to the guerrillas, hiding out somewhere in the desert. David is never able to get the help he is looking for leading him to have three negative experiences in a row. One person flat out leaves him stranded at the first sign of trouble. It is followed by a scene of sheer desperation as David breaks down, yelling to the Gods and begins to sob. How can such a situation not leave a person to feel isolated? 

With the documentary seemingly not going as David had planned, he has hit a dead end. It may be what inspires his impulsive action to switch identities with a deceased man staying in the same hotel, in the room next to him. What may be most revealing about these actions is his utter lack of interest in how this will affect the lives of those that know him such as his wife and their adopted child who strangely is never shown on-screen and is only mentioned briefly in passing. 

If David was expecting the grass to be greener on the other side, that is not what happens. Changing identity does not give him a carefree life where he can shirk all responsibilities. David discovers the deceased man was a gun runner and decides to keep up with his appointments and drop offs. Does David think this will fill a void in his life and provide it with a deeper meaning? Probably not.

It is on this new journey in his life he encounters a younger woman (Schneider). She offers companionship and makes the rounds with David, after he confesses everything to her. She is the one that wants to read a deeper meaning into David's actions and encourages him to keep all of the appointments. It leads to a larger question however, what is she getting out of this? It is a question David repeatedly asks the woman, "what the f*ck are you doing with me?"

And so essentially we have the story of two drifters escaping the realities of their lives pretending they are different people. Will their new identities give them a new outlook on life and change their perspectives? Is the message of the film revealed within a story David tells the woman of a man who was blind and regained his sight after a surgery. He now could see how poor and dirty the world was. The world became an ugly and violent place. His fear of violence lead him to never leave his home where he eventually killed himself. 

Antonioni ends his film on a note that personally filled me with sadness. The last line of the film is the one that stung me. A character says she doesn't recognize someone, while another character confirms she does. For me it suggested what is the purpose of life? And what does our life amount to if no one is there to validate our existence? If it were possible, life seems a bit more shapeless by the end of the film. What happens to some of these characters? They just travel on, finding new roads, new paths, aimless passengers seeking a destination.

I suppose for some viewers the sight of Jack Nicholson in an Antonioni art house film may seem out of place. But bear in the mind this is the Jack Nicholson of the 1970s, the Nicholson of films such as "Five Easy Pieces" (1970), which thematically isn't that far removed from "The Passenger". On its surface though the marriage of these two artists coming together does appear to be a contrast. The late and great movie critic Michael Wilmington described it this way in his Chicago Tribune review of the film's 30th anniversary re-release, "There's something almost hypnotic about the way these two very different film artists, with their utterly dissimilar styles, meld together here - like a couple who seem all wrong for each other but still strike off incandescent sparks." 

While Nicholson may absorb the lion's share of attention, lets not forget Schneider's contribution to the film. She was a few years removed from her most iconic role in Bernardo Bertolucci's "Last Tango in Paris" (1972), another film about grief and trying to numb the pain from the realities of life. There is a similar vulnerability to her role here and in a way she serve's as the film's eyes. She is our witness of these events. In Roger Ebert's 30th anniversary review of the film in the Chicago Sun-Times he wrote of Schneider's performance calling it "a performance of breathtaking spontaneity. She is without calculation, manner or affect."

In the 50 years since the release of "The Passenger", it seems to have fallen into obscurity. Other films from the time period have achieved a "classic" status and stayed in the public's conscious such as Robert Altman's "Nashville" (1975), Sidney Lumet's "Dog Day Afternoon" (1975), and Stanley Kubrick's "Barry Lyndon" (1975). But "The Passenger" feels the most like a 1970s film and yet as I initially explained it doesn't age the film in such a way that we cannot find it relatable in today's world.

One reason to explain the film's lack of popularity was due to Jack Nicholson owning the rights to the film and keeping it out of circulation. It wasn't until the 30th anniversary theatrical re-lease in 2005 and DVD release that followed that a majority of people saw this work for the first time.

This is not to suggest the film didn't have its defenders in 1975. Chicago Tribune movie critic Gene Siskel called it one of the best films of the year, placing it in the number two spot.  Andrew Sarris at the Village Voice also placed it in the number two spot of his year end list. In his New York Times review, critic Vincent Canby celebrated the film as a "poetic vision".

For the past 17 years of this movie blog, I've committed the cinematic sin of not reviewing enough of Antonioni's work. It's the same horrific realization I came to about  American filmmaker Sidney Lumet a few years ago, which I have rectified since. The last time I wrote a review for an Antonio film was in 2009 when I reviewed "Il Grido" (1957). This is most unfortunate as at one time I was deeply under  Antonioni's spell. I will vow to make a greater effort to discuss his work and hopefully introduce him to readers.

"The Passenger" is the kind of work some viewers will describe as slow moving but I would call it a meditative personal film with many layers that could be interpreted in multiple ways. Going back to Michael Wilmington's review, I like how he concluded it, highlighting the ways in which its charms reveal itself over time. He writes, "Decades later, its riddles seem less puzzling, more poetic - even endearing. It's a movie from the past that still points ahead to the future: a cinematic rite of passage that raptly recalls a time when the world may have been as uncertain as now, but the movies were often lovelier and more daring."

Film Reviews: You Nazty Spy! & A Plumbing We Will Go

 "You Nazty Spy!"

*** (out of ****)

After  Adolf Hitler rose to power in 1930s Germany, there was a genuine concern among some that Fascism could come to America, in large part as a reaction to the economic crisis brought on by the Great Depression. Famous Americans such as Henry Ford and Charles Lindbergh made complimentary remarks about Hitler and the Nazis, and what was going on in  Europe. So-called "Liberal Hollywood"  and the entertainment  world seemed to be egging it on as  well. Several films were made in the early 1930s that had a sympathetic view of dictatorship. The best remembered example of this is "Gabriel Over The White House" (1933) with Walter Houston as a president who wakes up from a coma and suspends Congress so he can get things done. Democracy takes too long and the Depression needs solutions. A non-film example of this would be the George S. Kaufman Broadway musical comedy - with a score by George and Ira Gershwin - called Let 'Em Eat Cake from 1933 about a president who loses re-election and refuses to concede, going as far as to the Supreme Court. When that fails, he decides to go into the shirt business to stir the people up to overthrow the government. 

I mention this jumbled and admittedly simplistic outline of history to paint a picture of the times and America's reaction to Hitler and the ideals of Fascism and the possible need for a dictator in the U.S. Many Americans didn't think there would be a second World War and when that thinking proved to be wrong, many Americans didn't think the United States should get involved. With the exception of "Confessions of a Nazi Spy" (1939) Hollywood was rather silent on the issue. Enter, of all things, the Three Stooges (!) with their comedy, "You Nazty Spy!" (1940), recognized as the first Hollywood film to spoof Hitler. It gives this comedy short a historical significance that made me want to review it during this year's blog theme, Life is Short, my year long look at short films.

While there is no denying the anti-Fascist, anti-Hitler, anti-dictatorship intentions of "You Nazty Spy!", oddly enough there are moments when this comedy also seems to have a satirical look at capitalism and corporate greed. The short begins with three business men complaining about the profits at the munition factory which has amounted to five million buckaroos in the first quarter. This leads one of the businessmen to proclaim with a profit such as that, they are practically starving. This was not a reflection of the economic situation in Germany in the 1930s. Hyperinflation is believed to have lead to Hitler's rise. Due to that, I can only interpret these exaggerated remarks to be a commentary on corporate greed as well as a criticism of weapon manufacturers in their role to perpetuate war. Who knew the Three Stooges could be so astute! 

It is these three businessmen that agree on a plan to overthrow the current government. They must find a puppet who will bend to their business needs and start a war thus increasing their profits. This is most likely a reference to a definition of Fascism as being a merger between corporate interest and the government. It is a quote often credited to Mussolini. The business men select three wallpaper hangers for the job. Of course the three men are Moe Hailstone (Moe Howard) who will become the new dictator, Curly Gallstone (Curly Howard) is made a General, in a character based on Mussolini, and Larry Pebble (Larry Fine) is in charge of propaganda, a reference to Joseph Goebbels.

The film is peppered with puns and sight gags more so than I am accustom to in a Stooge comedy. For example the country in which this all takes place is called Moronika. In order to have a roundtable meeting, they cut the corners of their square table. The comedy even begins with a disclaimer stating "Any resemblance between the characters in this picture and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle." The story and script came from Clyde Bruckman and Felix Adler. These names may not mean anything to most movie fans but they were great gag writers. Between the two of them, they worked with Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd, Laurel and Hardy, and Abbott & Costello.

Still it is unfortunate that "You Nazty Spy!" should have the honor of being the first comedy to spoof Hitler instead of the much more ambitious "The Great Dictator" (1940) by Charlie Chaplin, his first complete sound film. At the end of the day "You Nazty Spy!" is a Stooge comedy and all that it implies. It takes some nice shots and insinuates certain things but it doesn't really make a strong social and political commentary. Chaplin was the man for that. Although Chaplin had said, had he known of the true horrors of the Nazi regime he never would have made "The Great Dictator".

Speaking of the horrors, there is a moment when Moe sends someone to what he calls a "concentrated camp". I wonder if Moe Howard, the other Stooges, and the American public knew what was going on at those camps if that line would have remained in the short. If the Stooges knew of the full extent of what was occurring, would they have also decline to make such a comedy as this? Even Mel Brooks once said he thought the film "Life Is Beautiful" (1998) crossed a line.

Nevertheless the Stooges would return to similar material, making a direct sequel called "I'll Never Heil Again" (1941) as well as "Higher Than A Kite" (1943). Again, the purpose of these comedies and "You Nazty Spy!" in particular is to make fun of the presence of Hitler and take pot shots to knock him down a peg. While I suppose that within itself is a political commentary, it doesn't go much deeper than that.

"A Plumbing We Will Go"

*** (out of ****)

"A Plumbing We Will Go" (1940) finds the Stooges in a much more familiar light. While released in the 1940s, its premise resembles a 1930s Depression comedy, with the Stooges unemployed and destitute, standing trial for chicken theft.

When we first see the Stooges they are in court on the witness stand. Curly and Larry are both sitting on Moe's lap as they are being questioned by an attorney. The position of the boys is meant to imitate a ventriloquist act with Curly and Larry as a couple of dummies. 

It is an interesting way to introduce the characters and establish their relationship. They are three individuals but should be thought of as one, hence why they are all questioned at the same time. If you had never seen a Stooge comedy before, you could immediately assess that Moe is the leader of the trio. He is the one actually sitting in the chair and plays the role of the "ventriloquist" to Curly and Larry's "puppets".

The judge in their case dismisses the charges although the audience suspects whatever crime the boys have been charged with, they are most likely guilty of. Naturally once they are free to leave Curly puts his hat on which causes feathers to fly around. Figuring the jig is up they make a dash for it. Luckily escaping the long arm of the law however doesn't deter the trio as they try to steal fish from an aquarium tank. The persistent cop (Bud Jamison) catches the boys in the act but once again they escape by jumping into a plumber's truck. As fate would have it, they stop driving in front of a house that called plumbers an hour ago. The boys pretend to be the plumbers after spotting the cop in he neighborhood.

As far as comedic premises go, this one is acceptable. Running away and hiding from the police proved to be a familiar situation for the Three Stooges and even Laurel and Hardy. The business with the court room and the chickens though was unnecessary.

The comedy begins to pick up now as the boys are able to put their incompetence on full display. They have no idea how to stop the leak the real plumber was called for. It lends itself to perhaps the best known bit in the short, Curly breaking a shower faucet and trying to stop the running water by connecting pipe after piper together.

Perhaps because I was never much of a Stooge fan, my favorite sequence in the short doesn't involve the Stooges. It centers on Dudley Dickerson as a cook, trying to prepare a meal when the kitchen appliances start to act up, as a result of the Stooges' plumbing work. At one point water starts coming out of the stove top burner. Dickerson's reaction to these going-ons had me laughing out loud. More so than anything the Stooges did.

"A Plumbing We Will Go", like so many other Stooge comedies is just about the jokes and doesn't try to make a social commentary. Some have tried to suggest the Stooges often addressed the topic of class division but with the exception of "Hoi Polloi" (1935) very few of their comedies touch upon this and really had nothing to say on the issue. It is because their comedy was seen to lack any importance they weren't critical darlings and placed in the same class as with Charlie Chaplin, W.C. Fields or even the Marx Brothers, who did a much better job on the topic of class division.

So many Stooge comedies were remade or had material reused from prior shorts, "A Plumbing We Will Go" is no exception. The comedy was remade with Shemp Howard as the third stooge in "Vagabond Loafers" (1949). In some ways it is a better short with more of a plot. The Dudley Dickerson material was reused from "A Plumbing We Will Go" with some new scenes added. Then the material from "Vagabond" was reused and called "Scheming Schemers" (1956). Stooge fans might consider "Plumbing" the best of the three if for no other reason than it has everyone's favorite line-up - Moe, Larry and Curly. It is a harmless diversion that encapsulates the Stooge brand of humor as well as any other comedy short.

Film Reviews: The Barber Shop & The Pharmacist

 "The Barber Shop"

*** (out of ****)

The very first image we see is of a banner hanging informing us of the town's name - Felton City - and its population - 873. A man's voice is heard saying it's a nice town. Another man responds in the affirmative stating they have a public library and the largest insane asylum in the state.

A library and an insane asylum. It's a contradiction but that's what defines a city - good and bad. Safety and violence. Wealth and poverty. Culture and decadence. It's something the comedy of W.C. Fields had always hinted at. Just beneath the laughs there was a commentary on American values and its way of life. The comedy shorts "The Barber Shop" (1933) and "The Pharmacist" (1933), accomplish much of this at a level near that of the feature-length comedies starring Fields. It's one of the reasons I wanted to review them during the year of Life is Short, my year long theme looking at short films.

While "The Barber Shop" takes place in a small town, a year isn't specified. We see dirt roads, kids playing baseball in the streets and people traveling by horse and carriage. They aren't dressed in turn-of-the-century clothing but little resembles  American city life of the 1930s. In its opening scene however, Fields and director Arthur Ripley immediately set up the tone of the comedy, its themes and establish Fields' character. Fields is Cornelius O' Hare, a local barber who sits outside of his shop, sharpening his razor blade. He seems rather congenial, smiling at people passing by and engages in small chit chat. It's the kind of thing you'd expect in a small town. Everyone knows each other and appears friendly. But that's not exactly who Cornelius is. He almost begrudgingly puts up this charade of pleasantries. After people pass him, Cornelius bad mouths everyone under his breath. For example a woman passes Cornelius saying her husband hasn't been feeling well this morning. Cornelius offers his sympathies saying he is sorry to hear that and then mutters the man must have been out on another bender last night. Cornelius does this repeatedly with each passerby. Supposedly Fields based this on his mother who he would hear do this when he was a child, as his mother would sit outside the stoop of their apartment building. It's funny but suggest something deeper - the small town isn't as quaint as it appears, hitting on the duality I referenced previously and the phoniness of people (itself a duality). American life is as much about appearances than anything else.

The false appearances continue when Cornelius enters the barber shop and his apartment above it. Cornelius is a married man (Elise Cavanna plays is wife) with a young son (played by Harry Watson) but domestic life isn't bliss - is it ever in a Fields comedy? - as Cornelius attempts to give his wife a kiss on the cheek, she pulls away, indicating a loveless marriage. Unlike other Fields comedies, Cornelius has a good relationship with his son, who enjoys telling him riddles, much to the wife's annoyance. In the shop itself, Cornelius has a sole co-worker, a manicurist (Dagmar Oakland) who he flirts with and for whatever reason, seems infatuated with him. Perhaps this is explained by all of the wild tales he tells her of great and heroic feats he performed in his youth - he was a boxer, a detective and once killed an animal with his bare hands. This is prevalent since a bandit is on the loose. There is a $2,000 reward for his capture. Naturally Cornelius  would be out there on the hunt for him but sadly his presence is required at the shop, despite limited customers.

It might have been better in fact if Cornelius had gone out on a hunt for the bandit because every encounter he has with a customer is negative. Cornelius knows how to talk a good game but his every action reveals an ineptitude. In one scene a returning customer comes in for a shave. Why the man has chosen to come back is never explained. When Cornelius tells the man he didn't recognize him, the man replies that's because his facial wounds healed (!). Some people are a glutton for punishment. Cornelius proceeds to give the man a very close and very rough shave. He nearly cuts the man when he becomes distracted by the sight of a woman's legs. What he does to a mole is unspeakable. 

Fields gets to have a little more fun with his screen persona when his next customer enters, a little girl (Gloria Velarde) with her mother (Fay Holderness). The mother has brought the girl in for a haircut and here Fields is able to display his distain for children. Fields famously once said he never wanted to share a scene with animals, children and women since they will steal your attention in a scene. The girl does not want a haircut and Cornelius does his best to bite his tongue.

By now some readers may get the feeling where does this comedy go? It doesn't seem to be about much. That is partially true. There isn't a strong narrative plot line being followed through. Comedies like "The Barber Shop" and "The Pharmacist" would take up a few scenes in a feature-length comedy. "The Barber Shop" is kind of a blue print of what was to come in films such as "It's A Gift" (1934), which I feel is Fields best comedy. Much of what was in that film can be seen here though not examined as fully as in the feature-length format.

One aspect of "The Barber Shop" that doesn't get the full treatment and commentary I felt it deserved was the theme of masculinity. Masculinity had regularly been a theme in comedies of the 1920s and 30s usually insinuating masculinity is tied to physicality meaning brute strength. This can be seen in one of Fields' own silent comedies, "Running Wild" (1927). In "The Barber Shop" Fields possesses some of the same timid qualities as in that silent movie, as seen in his relationship with his wife, but there is no resolution to that problem this time around. Somehow Fields actually finds a way to emasculate his character further by the end of the movie. 

The purpose of "The Barber Shop" and the Mack Sennett shorts he appeared in was to showcase Fields comedic talents and add a new dimension to his persona as he came out of the silent era. Fields is in a select group of actors and actresses that benefitted from sound. Fields was a verbal comedian and that explains why his sound comedies are better remembered than his silent comedies. "The Barber Shop" was also the last comedy short he would appear in to focus on feature-length movies.

 "The Pharmacist"

 *** (out of ****)

"The Pharmacist" (1933) was the second to last comedy short W.C. Fields appeared in and like "The Barber Shop" is credited as being directed by Arthur Ripley from a story by Fields.

There is a lot in "The Pharmacist" that doesn't feel like your typical Fields comedy. It seems Fields was still working through the character and figuring out where the funny would come from. There are elements here that wouldn't be found in the feature-length comedies Fields appeared in. The average viewer may not notice them on first glance but take a closer second look. The Fields here is a rough draft of the characters he would play in "The Bank Dick" (1940) or "You Can't Cheat An Honest Man" (1939). 

The most glaring thing I first noticed is his character's relationship with his children. Fields plays Mr. Dilweg, the owner of a general store - despite the title of this comedy, Fields is not a pharmacist. The closest he gets to medicine is taking a order over the phone for cough drops - he has two daughters the youngest of which is played by "Babe" Kane, a grown woman playing a precocious child perhaps a la Baby Snooks (look it up). Fields is practically cruel to the child. He engages in a joke I've seen him do before where he implies he is going to hit a child after they ask if he loves them. Even the wife / mother character (Elise Cavanna) gets in on the act and roughs up the child. This leads to my second observation, she even defends Fields when the child talks back. What world is this?! Fields' character was usually the black sheep of the family due to his drinking and general laziness. Like Rodney Dangerfield he got no respect at home. Then there is a truly bizarre moment where the child is caught eating a canary and coughs up feathers! This is very dark humor for a W.C. Fields comedy and quite frankly feels out of place. Situations such as these would never be repeated again in a Fields comedy.

Another short coming of "The Pharmacist" is it doesn't do enough (or anything) to make Mr. Dilweg a lovable scoundrel. Despite the bad habits of any Fields character we, the audience, always rooted for him. A lot of this was due to the treatment he received from other characters like his family. Here though Mr. Dilweg seems to be a bully. I understand this is a pre-code comedy but you can't have a grown man threaten to hit children in a movie when we haven't had time to like the character first. Don't believe me? The proof is in the pudding. Fields would never do this again with one of his characters before making sure we like and in some way identify with his character.

If you can get past these moments, there is something to enjoy when watching "The Pharmacist", which is an episodic comedy like "The Barber Shop". Aside from these domestic moments the rest of the comedy short centers on Mr. Dilweg's interactions with various customers. In one interaction, which feels a little forced and more of an attempt to make a political commentary then create a laugh, a man is browsing in the store when Mr. Dilweg watches him like an hawk, desperate to make a sale. Finally the man says he'll buy a stamp but wants a purple one. Mr. Dilweg doesn't have a purple one which causes the man to make a remark no one has rights anymore but that's what you get with the Democratic Party.

It's not a particularly funny line and given the time period is a minority opinion when you consider the popularity of FDR, who had just come into office after winning in a landslide election. Today it would just serve as an opportunity for Republican trolls on the internet to make "original" and "insightful" comments about how this is true even today. Notice how Fields would stay away from lines like this in future comedies, despite a fake presidential run in 1940. 

It is through these customer interactions however that this comedy begins to shine. Fields, perhaps taking a cue from Jack Benny, uses a similar approach where Mr. Dilweg is a kind of everyman that encounters nothing but eccentrics. The humor is in Dilweg's attempts to meet the demands of these various individuals. Of course, nothing prior in "The Pharmacist" firmly situates Mr. Dilwig as an everyman but when compared to his daughter, who is eating canaries, I guess he'll do.

With no strong narrative plot there is no place for "The Pharmacist" to go that would feel satisfactory for the audience. It ends on a forced cops and robbers shoot out in the store. Maybe due to poor editing, how this shoot out begins is never explained. The sequence however proceeds to demonstrate Dilwig is a coward and continues to further embarrass him by being "saved" by a character he had earlier called a sissy played by Grady Sutton, who usually proved to be a good foil for Fields in later movies. It is rare though to see a comedian from this era fail the way Fields does in these two comedy shorts. Laurel & Hardy, Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton and Bob Hope all had moments where they succeeded on some level - they get the girl, they beat up the brute, they deliver the piano...etc. But Fields just flat out fails. Again, in the feature-length comedies this would change. "The Bank Dick" is an excellent example of this.

These Mack Sennett shorts signaled a new direction for Fields and his persona. Films and various directors weren't taking full advantage of his talents. See him in D.W. Griffith's "Sally of the Sawdust" (1925). It is a role practically any comedic actor of the era could have played. It didn't require W.C. Fields. On that basis the comedy shorts have value. We are able to see the development of his character, working out the rough edges.

I'd like to also take a brief moment and say something about the director of these shorts, Arthur Ripley. He was a gag writer for Sennett and wrote a few of Harry Langdon's comedies along with Frank Capra. I'm personally more familiar with his work as a writer than a director. Outside of these W.C. Fields shorts, his only other directorial efforts I have seen are a pair of Robert Benchley shorts. His strength appears to have been in his writing.

"The Barber Shop" and "The Pharmacist" fall short of what feature-length W.C. Fields comedies would achieve but there are funny moments in each of these comedies. It is fun to see Fields figure out what worked for the character and what didn't.

Film Review: Pale Ride - 40th Anniversary

  "Pale Rider"

 **** (out of ****)

The Western is said to be the most  American of all the movie genres, with its themes of individualism and freedom. Back in the days of my grandparents - in the 1930s and 1940s - Westerns were a dime a dozen. My grandparents didn't call them "Westerns", they called them "Cowboys and Indians". They were generally crowd pleasers with their tales of heroism and morality. Then a funny thing happened, the Western went out of style. Some attributed it to shifting American values during the Vietnam war era. 

It was around this time, in the mid-1960s, Clint Eastwood became a movie star, largely thanks to the Italian spaghetti Westerns directed by Sergio Leone. It signified the changing of the guard so to speak. John Wayne's brand of good guy heroism for Clint Eastwood's shades of grey anti-hero. But the genre never regained its place with movie goers as representing the American spirit. Westerns continued to be made during the 1970s however these films were revisionist, meaning (among other things) they challenged the mythology of the Old West - a pair of Robert  Altman films "McCabe and Mrs. Miller" (1971) and "Buffalo Bill and the Indians" (1976), Sam Peckinpah's  "Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid" (1973) and "The Shootist" (1976), featuring John Wayne's last film appearance.

It is within this environment Clint Eastwood directed and starred in "Pale Rider" (1985). The film was his first Western in nine years, coming after "The Outlaw Josey Wales" (1976). In the 1980s the Western was a "dead genre". Whatever efforts were made to bring it back were comedies - "Rustlers' Rhapsody" (1985) and "Three Amigos" (1986). A lot was hanging on the release of "Pale Rider" as some thought it could have the potential to revitalize the genre. In the Siskel and Ebert movie review program, At the Movies the two critics devoted an entire episode to the topic, in anticipation of the release of "Pale Rider".

Although "Pale Rider" was the highest grossing Western released in the 1980s, it didn't bring back the genre to what it used to be. If anything though it firmly solidified Eastwood's place as the premier Western filmmaker in America. These forty years later "Pale Rider" is still a remarkable achievement and a film I consider one of the best films released in 1985.

"Pale Rider" is a tale of morality, masculinity, and heroism. Depending upon your reading of the film, it could also be a ghost story with religious undertones. However this doesn't mean we see a "softer" and gentler Clint Eastwood. Eastwood is still our stand in for rugged masculinity, which in the case of this film is equated with brute force. It is the commentary on masculinity that I found most interesting watching "Pale Rider" and it's message on what exactly constitutes for being a "good man". If Eastwood's character, simply known as Preacher, is our definition of masculinity he is contrasted against Hull (Michael Moriarty). 

Hull is part of a group of California prospectors that are being intimidated by a mining baron, Coy LaHood (Richard Dysart) and his men, including his son, Josh (Chris Penn). LaHood wants the land for himself. There is a message here regarding the changing ways of the West and technology. LaHood uses advance ways to mine compared to the scenes where we see Hull and his fellow prospectors mine of gold.

Hull is living with a widower, Sarah (Carrie Snodgress) and her daughter Megan (Sydney Penny). Compared to Preacher, Hull is a weak man. He does not seem prone to violence. When Hull first meets Preacher, Hull is getting beaten up by a group of LaHood's men. Preacher, single handedly, takes them down one by one. The implication is, if Hull can't defend himself, how will he defend Sarah and Megan? In fact none of the prospectors seems capable of defending themselves. As the film opens we see LaHood's men ride towards the prospectors to attack them in order to scare them away. The men don't do much fighting back against LaHood's men, as one of them even shoots Megan's dog.

This community would surely welcome a man like Preacher to stand up to LaHood and his men on their behalf. But Preacher isn't a for hire gunfighter. After he is invited by Hull for dinner, as a thank you, Preacher arrives at the table dressed as, well, a preacher. But who is this nameless man? What was he doing in town? How did a preacher learn to beat people up? Could he be the answer to Megan's prayer? She prayed someone would come to help them and the following day Preacher arrives. Is he a ghost or a spirit? What kind of spirit could he be? A vengeful one? A peaceful one? Is he Death? Hints are given to answer these questions but nothing is directly stated.

Given that Eastwood's character is dressed as a preacher, the film does present the character as Heaven sent in the way he is able to bring this community together and provide it with the spine it was lacking. But it is the reaction of the female characters that is most telling. Both Sarah and Megan are drawn to him. Megan at one point confesses to being in love with Preacher as Sarah admits to the feelings his presence has invoked in her. What is baffling is that Preacher doesn't do anything to warrant these feelings within the female characters. At no point does Preacher display a romantic interest in either of the female characters. The only conclusion we can arrive it is the women are attracted to his strength which implies his masculinity. Preacher is the opposite of Hull, whom Sarah, despite all the good Hull has done for her, can't commit to marrying. 

Eastwood tries to bring this together in a scene involving the four of them riding into town. While Hull is in a general store, paying a debt, LaHood and his men want a word with Preacher. The two female characters are alone, sitting in their wagon, waiting anxiously. After Hull leaves the store the women tell him where Preacher is. They want him to help Preacher possibly fight off the men. Eastwood's camera picks up on Hull's hesitation. These would be the same men that beat him up. And he knows Preacher is capable of defending himself. But what kind of man would Hull be in the eyes of the women if he didn't attempt to help Preacher? 

For some modern viewers, particularly those with a political bent, "Pale Rider" could be interpreted as a celebration of toxic masculinity. While I disagree with this  kind of pseudo intellectualism, it is not an entirely new argument, although we didn't use the term "toxic masculinity" back in the 1980s. Eastwood has always been a lightening rod for political leftist, who viewed his films as glorifying violence. Film critic Pauline Kael famously described "Dirty Harry" (1971) as Fascist. My problem with the "toxic masculinity" comment is it ignores the "unfortunate" (from a leftist point-of-view) laws of attraction and human behavior. Women are more attracted to men they perceive as strong and dominating. That's a generalization, to be sure, but not a flat out lie. It is a more common belief then some may want to believe. People aren't as emotionally advanced as the phony high-minded "intellectuals" want to pontificate that we are.

The other issue I have with this way of thinking is it purposely misinterprets the Preacher character. Eastwood's Preacher is a fair minded man/spirit/God who only resorts to violence when he has to, in order to protect others. His kneejerk reaction isn't to settle everything with fighting. Ultimately the biggest benefit Preacher provides to the community is an understanding that together they are at their strongest.

While community is important there is also the sense of individualism, and a man's ability to defend himself. I've used the term "cowardly Liberal" to describe a certain type of male character that either believes in the rule of law or is pacifist in nature but by the end of the film must display his manhood in one final outburst of physical violence - i.e. "Straw Dogs" (1971), "The Ox-Bow Incident" (1943) - Hull isn't exactly this kind of character but by the end of the film he must go through a transformation. There will be a scene by the end of the film where he must engage in an act of violence to prove his manly worth. It leaves the viewer with the impression a good man possess all traits in one - strong but sensitive, dominating but vulnerable, the strong silent type but willing to share and express his feelings. Whether this exist is another story for another review.

Just as the character Hull has a predetermined fate, so too does Preacher. There will be a moment in "Pale Rider" when we will have the final gunfight between the hero and the villain. The villain here is a man paid by LaHood to kill Preacher, a corrupt marshal named Stockburn (John Russell) who travels with six deputies. The film hints he and Preacher may have met before. It may answer the question of whether of not Preacher is a ghost. The gun fight can be interpreted as the usual good versus evil showdown but with Eastwood playing Preacher it could also be a case of evil versus evil. In which case the gun fight is a final act of retribution on the part of Preacher. An act that may finally give his soul rest, if Preacher is a ghost.

The spiritual element in "Pale Rider" and the mysticism surrounding the Preacher character is what separates it from other Westerns and is what drew Eastwood to this material. In an interview taken place during the Cannes Film Festival, where "Pale Rider" was shown, Eastwood states he likes allegorical films and screenwriters Michael Butler and Dennis Shryack wrote the film with him in mind. Eastwood also says in the interview it is his belief Preacher is a reincarnation of a Preacher that was shot and killed by Stockburn.

"Pale Rider" was released at an interesting time in Eastwood's career. He was considered the top box-office star of 1984 and one of the top two in 1985. A Rolling Stone magazine article suggested he may be the most popular movie star in the world. His prior directorial effort, "Sudden Impact" (1983) was the highest grossing movie in the "Dirty Harry" franchise. Combined this all says a lot about our culture and movie going taste, which can be negative or positive depending on your own agenda. One thing it says for sure is the public liked Eastwood's brand of heroism and tough guy masculinity.

While the general public seemed to have an interest in "Pale Rider", the "critics" (sheep) were a bit divided on the film. New York Times critic Vincent Canby however paid Eastwood a tremendous compliment in his review when discussing the dual roles Eastwood played by director and actor writing Eastwood "handles both jobs with such intelligence and facility I'm just now beginning to realize that, though Mr. Eastwood may have been improving over the years, it's also taken all these years for most of us to recognize his very consistent grace and wit as a filmmaker." It is a sentiment that matches my own as the years have gone on. I now consider Eastwood one of my favorite filmmakers. Canby wasn't the only one to praise "Pale Rider". Roger Ebert at the Chicago Sun-Times awarded the film four stars and declared it "a considerable achievement" and continued to cheer it as "a classic Western of style and excitement." Unfortunately, Ebert's colleague and television partner, Chicago Tribune critic Gene Siskel wasn't impressed with the film stating, "Pale Rider" in story terms is just formula western moviemaking." Siskel also felt the film had nothing new to say observing, "But sadly, the film never really breaks new ground, settling to walk through the same dramatic territory as "High Plains Drifter" (1973)". Many others also commented on the similarities between "Pale Rider" and "High Plains Drifter", which was also directed by Eastwood. Finally, as always, New Yorker critic Pauline Kael gave Eastwood and the film a good thrashing noting "Pale Rider has the kind of Western situations that were parodied years ago by Harvey Korman on The Carol Burnett Show."

With 40 years behind it however "Pale Rider" has stood the test of time as a classic western and an all around enjoyable piece of entertainment. I'm not completely sure if the film is remembered as fondly as it should be but a new 4K 40th anniversary blu-ray will be released in April. I haven't come across any retrospective reviews of the film, in honor of its anniversary, but those might come after the release of the blu-ray. Me being ahead of the trends is nothing new and why you read this blog.

There have been rumblings that Clint Eastwood, who turns  95 in May, may retire from filmmaking. His last film may have been last year's "Juror # 2" (2024), which sadly didn't received wide distribution (it is currently streaming on HBO Max). If that is the case it would mark the end of an incredible career. With films like "Pale Rider" Eastwood has been so instrumental in redefining heroism, masculinity and the mythology of the West. We can see the cultural influence Eastwood has had on films and our expectations of anti-hero tough guys. Some may want to do away with this kind of hero and masculinity but it will never go out of style. Hollywood has merely repackaged it and now given many of these character traits to female action heroes. Same ingredients, different brand.

"Pale Rider", along with Eastwood's "Unforgiven" (1992), may be one of the finest Westerns to come along in decades. A remarkable directorial effort by Eastwood that has the ability to provoke deeper discussions on good and evil and justice. It was one of the best films of 1985. It's a shame it didn't receive any award recognition in the U.S.

Film Review: The Verdict

  "The Verdict"

 **** (out of ****)

The Bishop (Edwards Binns) asks his lawyer if the doctor at the Catholic hospital - which the Boston Archdiocese operates - is guilty of the malpractice he is accused of. The lawyer doesn't say anything. Is the silence an implication of guilt? What will the Bishop do?

It isn't a moment the general public may pay much attention to - and one the "critics" didn't focus on either -  but it hits at the heart of director Sidney Lumet's film "The Verdict" (1982). The film is a study in morality and redemption. 

In many ways Lumet's film is similar to his previous work, "Prince of the City" (1981). That film was about police corruption on its surface but was really about a cop trying to redeem himself and live by his own moral code. In "The Verdict" we follow a one time promising lawyer who learned about the ethics of the legal system and has taken to drinking ever since. More than a courtroom drama, the film is a story about this lawyer trying to redeem himself. Both stories are about men in professions that challenge and test their courage under pressure.

The lawyer is Frank Galvin (Paul Newman). Money and success seemed to be in his future after graduating law school. He married one of the daughters at a prestigious law firm and as a result was made a partner. Through no fault of his own he was nearly disbarred however after allegations of jury tampering were made. The problem went away, as did the law firm partnership and his wife. Replacing all of it was the sweet taste of booze. Frank still looks like a polished gentleman with fine clothing but he hasn't had much work in the past few years. You've heard of ambulance chasing lawyers? Well Frank is an obituary chasing lawyer. He attends funerals pretending to be an acquaintance of the deceased. He'll offer his condolences to the grieving widow and slip her his business card, offering his services if needed.

An old lawyer friend, Mickey (Jack Warden) takes pity on Frank and throws an open and shut medical malpractice suit his way. If Frank can stay sober, he'll make a third of the settlement fee. The defendants - the Catholic hospital, the doctors, and the Boston Archdiocese - are pretending they want to go to trial, to clear the names of the doctors, but it's secretly understood no one wants the case to go to trial. At issue was a young pregnant woman who went into a hospital for a delivery but complications arose. Doctors gave the woman an anesthetic which resulted with her being left in a permanent vegetative state. 

Initially Frank is apathetic to the case and to the entire situation. He hasn't even met with his clients - the sister (Roxanne Hart) and brother-in-law (James Handy) of the victim. He agrees with Mickey that it is an open and shut case and will be settled out of court. Little by little however as Frank gathers enough evidence to demand a hefty settlement, he is placed in a moral quandary - which Lumet beautifully visualizes with a polaroid picture as it develops - now that he knows the truth, what will he do about it? It is the same situation that the Bishop finds himself in and becomes a running theme throughout the film.

Within this scenario the film, adapted by David Mamet from a Barry Reed novel of the same name, establishes many themes surrounding issues of power, law, wealth and class. It does so by setting up this story as a David & Goliath tale. The hospital, which has a great deal of money behind it, can afford to hire the services of a major law firm. When we first see the firm, the viewer may initially mistake it for a corporate boardroom of shareholders. Around 10 or 12 men are seated at a conference table headed by Ed Concannon (James Mason). This is what money and power can buy you. Lumet almost humorously contrasts this image against Frank and Mickey alone by themselves in a library sifting through books, preparing their legal defense.

Trialing the case in the courtroom isn't enough however. A law firm as big as Mr. Concannon's can exert its power and influence in multiple ways such as by paying off or intimidating potential witnesses, calling on resources in the media to manipulate and control public opinion with flattering articles, and depending upon friendships with the Judge (Milo O' Shea) presiding over the case to suspiciously always rule in your favor.

 

The tactics the lawyers use address another important theme in the film, legality versus morality. Nothing Concannon's firm is doing is necessarily illegal. It is the games lawyers can be expected to play. But is it morally right? There is a distinction between what is legal and what is moral. 

Reading comments on the internet I came across a discussion regarding a courtroom scene involving inadmissible testimony and evidence. This scene has an impact on a later scene concerning the jury's verdict. For me this is yet another example of what do we do when we are given the truth and feeds into the concept of legality vs morality. Perhaps what the jury decides wasn't based on legality but it is morally satisfying. 

Corruption, morality and justice, this is what the films of Sidney Lumet have centered on since his theatrical film debut, "12 Angry Men" (1957). Like that debut film, "The Verdict" tells us the law is ultimately to be decided by the people. We have the power to stop injustice and hold the rich and powerful accountable.

For all the things "The Verdict" and Sidney Lumet do correctly there is one flaw I find the film possesses and that is a character played by Charlotte Rampling. Rampling is a wonderful actress who has appeared in such films as Luchino Visconti's "The Damned" (1969), Woody Allen's "Stardust Memories" (1980) and "The Night Porter" (1974). But as talented as she may be, I believe the film could have done without her character. The always insightful and wonderful New York Times critic Janet Maslin wrote of Rampling in her review, "Although the extreme restraint of Miss Rampling's performance makes a bit more sense on a second viewing than it does on first, both the character and the performance slow the movie down for no vital purpose."

Practically every other performance in the film however is not only great to watch but adds to creating a sense of this Boston community. There's not a lot of street life in "The Verdict" but the characters and their speeches give you a sense of your location and the period. Two minor characters that deserve special recognition are Judge Hoye and Kevin Doneghy, the brother-in-law. Kevin gives a beautiful speech to Frank, when he is upset Frank did not notify him of a settlement offer, about how the establishment never has to deal with their failures as it affects the working people. The Judge becomes a not-so-subtle symbol of how the law is meant to serve the interest of the powerful. Pay attention to a quietly powerful scene between the Judge, Concannon and Frank, meeting in the Judge's chambers. Notice the delicate way the Judge and Concannon try to tag-team Frank to accept the settlement offer. 

And not to leave any performances unnoticed, James Mason makes an impact as a seemingly mild-mannered slick operator. He knows being a lawyer isn't about trying your best, it's about winning. He enjoys the finer things life has to offer and deludes himself into believing he is still a good person because his law firm does pro-bono work. Mason adds an elegance to the character another actor may not have been able to. Jack Warden on the other hand provides a nice contrast as a street smart guy.

But this is Paul Newman's show all the way. Many "critics" viewed this film as a comeback for Newman and several cite it as one of Newman's best performances of his career. Newman has always been blessed with Hollywood leading man looks but "The Verdict" was thought to be one of the few times Newman didn't rely on his features. In Roger Ebert's Chicago Sun-Times review he stated, "This is the first movie in which Newman has looked a little old, a little tired." Ebert goes on to add, "Newman has always been an interesting actor, but sometimes his resiliency, his youthful vitality have obscured his performances". Newman doesn't try to hide Frank's flaws from a scene involving him shown passed out drunk to slapping a female. He's wasn't afraid to take chances with this performance and risk being seen by the public as unlikable.

One of Newman's highlight moments comes at the end of the film, as his character gives his closing arguments in the courtroom. While Newman gives a passionate speech, which I believe is meant to encapsulates the film's message, I'd like to focus on how Lumet and his cinematographer (Andrzrj Bartkowiak) shoot the scene. Normally you would either get a close-up or medium shot of the actor as they make their plea. But Lumet shoots it in an extreme long shot as we see the courtroom watchers in the background. In theory it takes the emphasis off of the actor and makes us focus on the words instead. The words and the framing combined however, I felt suggested Frank was speaking on behalf of all of us. Emotionally it would feel different if Frank spoke directly into the camera and as compared to how it was done here. These are the kind of decisions filmmakers have to make. It's why Lumet was one of the best, for the subtle ways he could convey his message visually.

There was a time I thought the 1970s was probably Lumet's best decade as a filmmaker with the release of such films as "Serpico" (1973), "Murder on the Orient Express" (1974), "Dog Day Afternoon" (1975) and "Network" (1976), but as I've been rewatching Lumet's films, in order to review them on here, I'm noticing at the beginning of the 1980s, he was standing firm as one of the best directors entering the new decade. He had three knockouts in a row with "Prince of the City", "The Verdict" and "Daniel" (1983). Three films about moral conviction meant to counter Reagan's America. I sincerely don't think Woody Allen, Francis Ford Coppola or even Robert Altman - to name some titans of the 1970s - started the 1980s as strong.

Perhaps to make up for the sin of not nominating "Prince of the City" for any major Academy Awards the prior year, "The Verdict" was showered with five Oscar nominations including for best picture, best actor, supporting actor (Mason) and best director. It was nominated in the same categories for the Golden Globes as well. Unfortunately it didn't win any awards at either ceremony. Newman lost the Oscar that year to Ben Kingsley's performance as Gandhi - which was spectacular - in Richard Attenborough's epic of the same title. It was also Lumet's fourth and final best director nomination. He would never win a competitive Oscar but was given a honorary award in 2005. Actions such as this helped to solidify the belief the Academy didn't like to nominate east coast directors for awards. In additional to the nominations, Roger Ebert declared "The Verdict" as one of the best films of 1982 while Gene Siskel gave it a "thumbs up" on their TV show.

The ideas behind "The Verdict" have aged nicely and its critiques of the legal system and the influence of the powerful remain just as relevant. This is one of Lumet's best films