Public Enemies

Public Enemies - 2009 - 140 minutes - Directed by Michael Mann
Starring Johnny Depp, Christian Bale, Marion Cotillard, Emilie de Ravin, Stephen Dorff, Giovanni Ribisi, Billy Crudup, Branka Katic

Michael Mann has been working towards Public Enemies for as long as he's been making movies, from Frank's resignation to his fate in Thief to Neil's inability to escape the clutches of his criminal life in Heat and so there really is no director more suited to adapting the inherent fatalism in the story of America's public enemy number one, John Dillinger. Although there has already been two well-known adaptations of the story of Dillinger, Mann approached Public Enemies initially as a TV mini-series with an eye to sticking to the reality of the characters. Once the series idea had been nixed he returned to the project with a new conception of what it could be, namely an organic progression of the themes he'd already mapped out in his earlier work. And that's what works about Public Enemies and why the choices he makes here should come as no surprise to those familiar with his oeuvre, the sacrifices of what Herzog would refer to as 'the accountant's truth' in order to get at something deeper and more meaningful than a history lesson.Johnny Depp plays Dillinger as we imagine he would be, less a Robin Hood folk hero (a factor the trailers clearly played up) and more of a resourceful thief who understood the beneficial aspects of keeping the general public in his favor. He is playful but determined, unconcerned with the future because there's no way around the fact that he is ending up "dead or dead." While Dillinger quite often speaks of his superiority to the establishment, his ability to escape capture and the weakness of his pursuers, Depp plays him with a certain amount of conflict, as if he -like we, the audience- has been informed of his fate. Counter to him is Christian Bale as Melvin Purvis, the agent assigned to capturing Dillinger who is cast here in a supporting role in order to augment the story of Dillinger as opposed to act as catalyst for it.

In 1933, Dillinger walks into a heavily guarded prison with friend and companion John 'Red' Hamilton (Jason Clarke) in order to break out several of his friends including father figure Walter Dietrich (James Russo), but in the midst of a fairly peaceful takeover an anonymous gang member and prison escapee murders a guard in cold blood. This vicious murder calls the attention of the other guards throughout the penitentiary's grounds and Dillinger is forced to escape with his cohorts under heavy fire. This fire eventually causes the death of Dietrich and so Dillinger beats and tosses the prisoner who'd slipped up out of the car, of course after checking with his friends. If Michael Mann's conception of Dillinger could be defined by one thing its his inability to let people down, and so the imagery of Dietrich's hand slipping away as they drive off casts a shadow on everything that happens henceforth.After the fairly successful jail break, Dillinger approaches Alvin Karpis (Giovanni Ribisi) at a party looking for work but Karpis has nothing at the moment that appeals to him, only a kidnapping which Dillinger believes would turn the public against him. He does, however, mention a train robbery that would be a big enough haul for each man involved to leave and settle in another country. Dillinger tentatively accepts and then returns to the party only to lock eyes with Billie Frechette (Marion Cotillard), a woman he will pursue throughout the rest of the film. It is this relationship that will define the film as we follow its development as much as Purvis' desperate chase and Dillinger's increasingly dangerous bank robberies. Dillinger spends much of the time with Frechette attempting to convince her that they will be together for a substantial amount of time, only for him to be caught in the bedroom by Purvis and his men, including notorious Texas ranger Charles Winstead (Stephen Lang).

Dillinger's prison escape sequence has been filmed adequately several times, and homaged many more in films as separate and as unique as Take the Money and Run, and in all that I can remember the process of carving the gun is given a hefty amount of screen time. Mann takes a different approach with Public Enemies, counting on our knowledge of Dillinger's methods and skipping over to just how effective he was with that gun (fake or not) in his hands. This is a microcosmic example of Mann's filmmaking approach in general, he is not interested in the more well established facts of Dillinger's compelling and charismatic if ubiquitously understood life, but more the relationships he is thought to have had with members of his gang and the love of his life. This makes for a sparse, elliptical film with emphasis placed on the moments in between, when Dillinger isn't robbing banks or escaping prisons, when he is at the movies or the track or at home in bed. More than any other filmmaker who has adapted the material, Mann is interested in making a film about a man, as opposed to a myth.I find Public Enemies much more interesting in how it relates to Mann's filmography as a whole as opposed to the other interpretations of the events of 1933/1934. While comparisons can be drawn between Warren Oates, Lawrence Tierney, Robert Conrad and Johnny Depp, it is much more suitable to compare Depp's Dillinger with De Niro's McCauley. Faced with similar circumstances such as the betrayal caused by wanton bloodlust on behalf of the unnamed prisoner and the serial killing Waingro, both Dillinger and McCauley choose to destroy the offending criminals, enforcing their own brand of justice over their crews. Another situation which arises to both men is the intense pursuit by their antagonists, Purvis and Hanna, while carrying an injured comrade. In both cases the men opt to continue on with their friends, choosing camaraderie over a chance to escape. With this in mind Mann's choices within the framework of Public Enemies are a marked difference from Heat, especially in his coloring of the peripheral characters, an effort he makes only minimally.

Depp gives a career best performance in his portrayal of Dillinger, a character he may not have the hard nosed appearance for but he is able to conjure up a reasonable facsimile of the reality of Dillinger, and he reacts very well after spending so much time under heavy makeup playing caricatures. He gives Dillinger some much needed nuance and believability, his love for Billie feels natural and understandable thanks to Depp's vulnerability which is integral to the plot's necessity for Billie. Bale's Purvis is as austere as he's been in past films, but he eschews his usual explosive element in order to give us a more unstable characterization of a man on the edge. Purvis is under great pressure and Bale lets us know through small gestures and expressions that he is cracking. The film is actually filled with excellent performances wall-to-wall, Cotillard and Lang in particular rising to the top.Mann's devotion to the development and the usage of digital cinematography has become quite an obstacle for some viewers, yet for me he has been one of the very few who has been able to utilize the new technology to its potential. While cinematographer Dante Spinotti is not as accomplished in the digital realm as previous cinematographer Dion Beebe, he is able to shift Mann's usually stylistic and expressionistic aesthetics into a more realistic and period-appropriate set visual sensibilities. Thanks to Spinotti, Mann is able to achieve the kind of period realism that escapes filmmakers with a more obsessive nature which causes them to overtly display their adherence to reality with a love for the self that becomes unhealthy in cinema. Public Enemies plunges itself forward with no appeal to orienting the audience, rarely does Mann use establishing shots or focus on period details, instead he chooses to play Dillinger and Purvis off each other as he would in any other setting, and that's what makes the film so effective.

As 2009 is looking to be a reserved year in terms of substantial dramas, Public Enemies is as surprisingly daring as can be considering the film's basic structure's appeal in terms of critical acclaim. Mann takes a hell of a lot of chances in emphasizing the romantic elements and downplaying the supporting players, and in this fashion he has made a much more focused and centralized film than before. Also questionable is his choice to stray substantially from the narrative established by its source material, Bryan Burrough's Public Enemies, but this is also the right decision as Mann makes it known quickly that he is interested in the relationships Dillinger was involved in rather than the exact nature of his criminal life. Although he may have jeopardized some of the acclaim inherent in every crime-oriented drama Mann involves himself with, Public Enemies is as accomplished as his best work and shows a shift in focus that is less interested in indulging the audience in its expectations and more interested in crafting a timeless, enjoyable but also compelling narrative. Free of all constraints of audience expectation and historical accuracy and with proper perspective, Public Enemies can be expected to ascend to the top of Mann's filmography with ease.
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Public Enemies on IMDB.

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg - 1964 - 91 minutes - Directed by Jacques Demy
Starring Catherine Deneuve, Nino Castelnuovo, Anne Vernon, Marc Michel, Ellen Farner, Mireille Perrey, Jean Champion

While peers in the French Nouvelle Vague chose to subvert well-known Hollywood genres like that of the gangster film or the sci fi film, director Jacques Demy took a strange and unique approach, namely the exact recreation of a Hollywood genre and all its conventions. With The Umbrellas of Cherbourg he created a nuanced example of the great Hollywood musical, the only differences being the extent of the film's musicality (namely, all the dialogue is sung) and the language barrier. The time that had elapsed since the musical's heyday allowed Demy to go further with the elaborate composition and supremely evocative set design thanks to technological developments he ended up shooting it entirely in saturated tones so that the colors leap from the screen. Demy adapts to his decision to shoot in this fashion by having the set and costume design cater to it at every turn, from the peeling lime-green paint on a concrete wall to the red dress a seductress who appears near the end is adorned with, the film is a non-stop parade of stunning iconography.Composed by Michel Legrand as a kind of cinematic opera, Legrand models the syntax and lyrical flow of the dialogue after every day conversation, a technique which proves itself useful in submersing the viewer in this very unique sing-song universe. While it takes a moment to adjust to initially, after several minutes the film's world begins to make sense and the believability of the plot actually depends on this unusual form of storytelling. The music is -for the most part- uplifting as well as pleasing, the score never seems to dwell on the discomfort or the depression inherent in some of the more melodramatic sequences, but then again it never has to. It's to Legrand's credit that he feels no need to hold the audience's hand, we are never told what to feel, rather the characters are given an outlet for their own emotions as opposed to having the film's tone suffocate their individual intentions.

Divided into three sections, The Departure, The Absence, and The Return, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg tells the story of Guy Foucher (Nino Castelnuovo), a happy go lucky employee at the local garage, and his intense love for the beautiful but young Genevieve Emery (Catherine Deneuve). The two have fanciful plans to be married in spite of the pressure and disapproval exerted by Genevieve's mother, Madame Emery (Anne Vernon), until Guy receives his draft notice in the mail and is sent off to the army during the French war with Algeria. He and Genevieve spend one last night together during which they have sex, and in the morning he tearfully departs on the train. Genevieve is torn up by his absence, at first upset by the rarity of his letters and then by the discovery that she is, in fact, pregnant with his child.Due to problems with rent Madame Emery takes Genevieve to a jewelery shop to sell her diamond necklace but finds the shop owner unwilling to buy it. Fortunately a young man there to sell emeralds, rubies, diamonds and the like offers to purchase it the next night at her shop. He arrives a little after Genevieve has left and introduces himself as Roland Cassard (Marc Michel), a character whose fate had previously been explored in Demy's debut tribute to Max Ophuls and the first part of his so-called 'Romantic Trilogy', 1961's Lola. Roland makes good on his promise to buy the necklace but begins to visit the Emerys from time to time to check up on them. Eventually he informs Madame Emery of his intentions to marry Genevieve and requests that she have an answer for him when he returns from Amsterdam in three months. Carrying Guy's child and the burden of having to assist in the umbrella shop her mother owns, Genevieve is weighted down by the pressures of her dilemma and puts off telling Roland of her pregnancy.

Although still stricken by her heartsick notions of returned love, Genevieve decides that if Roland still wants her despite her carrying Guy's child, that she will marry him and not look back if only for the sake of her mother and her daughter. Forced to bear the weight of an unhappy, loveless marriage Demy shifts the color palette as soon as Genevieve and Roland take their first walk together, instead of the bright, lively coloring they stroll through an industrial dockyard, the train tracks barely contrasted with the wet pavement.If ever any film were to be described as painterly, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is it, the film is beautifully rendered and completely realized. Each frame is composed almost unto itself, and so each single frame is affecting and beautiful, nevermind the collective effect this has once gorgeous image after gorgeous image have been phantasmagorically paraded on screen one after another. Catherine Deneuve's striking frame is put to great use here as Demy often contrasts her startlingly blonde hair against the heavy primary colors of the background. Her acting is convincing, especially since the singing is done entirely by Danielle Licari, but most importantly Deneuve is able to sell us on her innocence and on her naivete, and so we buy into the tragedy of her circumstances.

Existing in a strange kind of limbo between our world and the epitome of saccharine, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is a studied experiment in romance, romance heightened to the level of great drama. As unlikely as it may seem the film is able to involve us in its goings on by using all of the techniques pioneered by the great Hollywood musicals as well as the unique knowing absurdity of the French New Wave. From one moment to the next we may witness an hyperbolic tearful embrace where the camera pulls so far back we see the unmoved people on the periphery of the film's world that seems to rest solely on the backs of Guy and Genevieve, or a simple one second too long stare into the camera that seeks to rupture our belief in the Hollywood dream machine. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is a touching tragedy that plucks on the heart strings just enough to be effective and not enough to be manipulative. At times cute, at times uncomfortable in its sweetness, the combination of Legrand and Demy amounted to bottled lightning and the film is perfect as a showcase for their mutual talents.
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The Umbrellas of Cherbourg at Amazon.

Das Kleine Chaos

Das Kleine Chaos - 1966 - 9 minutes - Directed by Rainer Werner Fassbinder
Starring Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Christoph Roser, Marite Greiselis, Greta Rehfeld, Lilo Pempeit, Susanne Schimkus

Das Kleine Chaos, Rainer Werner Fassbinder's third short film after the lost This Night and the unremarkable The City Tramp, is a Nouvelle Vague-inspired short that is remarkably accomplished despite its brisk nine minute runtime and minuscule budget. Bearing a certain resemblance to Jean Luc Godard's Bande à part, we open on three hapless layabouts victimized by the failing German economy and an addiction to the cinema. They go door to door selling magazine subscriptions, or more accurately being turned down while trying to sell magazine subscriptions, and then reconvene at the entrance to the chosen apartment building to confirm their mutual monetary deficiency. Franz (Fassbinder himself) borrows some money from Theo (Cristoph Roser) and then rushes off, declaring that he has better things to do. The film does not follow him, indeed it does not follow any single character at any one time, instead we cut ahead to Franz, Theo and Marite (Marite Greiselis) sitting in a bedroom discussing their future plans.As neither Theo nor Marite seem to have any will of their own, meekly submitting to Franz when he makes demands of them and deferring to him all when forced to make any decisions, Franz takes control of the group and decides to engage in illegal activity. He muses to the camera that he wishes "there was a gangster film with a happy ending," a sentiment that clearly demonstrates his aspirations. He, like many French Nouvelle Vague protagonists, has been inspired and informed by the great Hollywood antiheroes of the crime film and uses them as an excuse to craft a new persona for himself.

This persona will remind contemporary viewers of Alex in Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange what with his absent-minded and amoral approach to violence, preference for musical accompaniment during his criminal activities, but he splits from Alex in that he is a mere shallow appropriation of the cinematic tough guy. Fassbinder's face is hardly suited to the perpetual sneer he attempts to fashion, instead appearing more as a child in his parent's shoes. This perception actually suits the character and adds some much needed depth to the proceedings, changing a rather predictable crime narrative into a strange sort of indictment of the Hollywoodization of crime while at the same time celebrating it.The acting is slightly naive, especially in the case of Fassbinder's aged lover and financier Cristoph Roser who appears to coast through the film with little interest until the ending. Marite Greiselis is given very little to work with in the short running time and so spends most of it being grabbed and pushed around by Fassbinder, a control he exerts so casually it gives their relationship an edge. Fassbinder himself is youthful and sneering, his round, pock-marked face in direct defiance with conventional expectations of what a 'bad guy' is supposed to look like. The cast's ability to be exuberant does pay off in the film's final shot, set to the tune of The Troggs' I Can't Control Myself, which gives Das Kleien Chaos an uplifting and stylistically pleasing conclusion.

Visually the film is bizarrely effective, although obviously not the work of an old hand behind the camera. Das Kleine Chaos has a vitality uncommon to the early work of most directors, a confidence in moving the camera and in composing the shots that hints at the greatness of Fassbinder's later works as well as the prodigious output his vigor allowed him in the seventeen years he made films. A fun, assured short from a very capable young director who would go on to do great things, Das Kleine Chaos is more than evidence of potential, it is a compelling short of its own worth apart from its place in history.———————————————————————————————-
Das Kleine Chaos at Youtube.

Heat

Heat - 1995 - 171 minutes - Directed by Michael Mann
Starring Al Pacino, Robert De Niro, Val Kilmer, Tom Sizemore, Diane Venora, Amy Brenneman, Ashley Judd, Mykelti Williamson, Wes Studi, Ted Levine, Dennis Haysbert, William Fichtner, Natalie Portman, Tom Noonan, Kevin Gage, Hank Azaria, Danny Trejo, Jon Voight

Eschewing the popular trend of exacting realism in the crime film, Heat is remarkable for its stylistic elevation, its brilliant use of light and setting to heighten drama. Films had not used the artificiality inherent in the act of observing criminal activity since the seventies and rarely had they been this feverish, this explosive. Heat observes with dictatorial pacing the inner workings of two similarly minded men, both on opposite sides of the law surrounded by the kind of men director Michael Mann is expert in crafting superb narratives around. Structurally the film is evenly distributed although the emphasis is placed predominantly on the criminals, thanks to the majority of the work the police engage in being a reaction to events set in motion by the thieves. This results in an uneven sympathetic attachment being formed, but thanks to the magnetism of the lead actors we never get the sense that we are being manipulated, more that the preemptive existence of the criminals appears more active and engaging than the police's.Heat pits criminal mastermind Neil McCauley (Robert De Niro) against the LAPD's most effective officer Lieutenant Vincent Hanna (Al Pacino). The two men lead seemingly identical lives, alienated from their significant others by the reality of their occupations, neither man will give an inch when it comes to their means of employment. For Hanna this means sacrificing marriage after marriage to slow death, the degradation and eventual evaporation of the marital bond that gives him the leverage he needs to continue his hunt. McCauley, much more meticulous in the execution of every aspect of his life, sacrifices nothing because he establishes nothing, although he gets involved with a bookstore employee/graphic designer named Eady (Amy Brennemann) he never seems to commit to her, keeping his distance throughout their cold and separate relationship. This is why he is unable to escape with her, he is unwilling to involve himself in the relationship, moreover while he is willing to sacrifice everything for his work, he is unwilling to sacrifice any detail of his work to the rest of his life.

During the film's establishing sequence, the action set-piece that opens the film, McCauley's characterization is revealed through a momentary judgment that marks him as cold, clinical and willing to make tough decisions. After an extraordinarily timed car crash sends an armoured car over on its side, McCauley and his crew rush the inhabitants with minimal fanfare. However, once the bonds that are the object of the robbery have been found, the newest inductee into the group, a cowboy named Waingro (Kevin Gage) takes it upon himself to kill one of the security guards, thus escalating the extent of the crime to a new level. Once the murder one charge has been established McCauley shows no hesitation in allowing his right hand man Chris Shiherlis (Val Kilmer) to kill the remaining guard. The reasoning behind this is explained by Lt. Hanna once he arrives on scene to investigate. After the first murder takes place, the second and third murders only serve to eliminate witnesses rather than deepen the hole they're digging themselves into.Waingro refuses to confess to his complicity in the murder, instead assuring the rest of the group that he "had to get it on, (the guard) was making a move." The crew pretends to be upset but not irreparably so, luring Waingro into a false sense of security. Neil makes a move like he's going to split up the money but instead takes Waingro outside of a local diner to murder him. A police car interrupts the proceedings and Waingro manages to get away, a rare loose thread in an otherwise tidy operation. Although McCauley is determined to tidy up Waingro's escape, he is also remarkably unburdened with this knowledge and feels free enough to plan another heist as well as attempt to barter a higher price for the stolen bonds from their previous owner Roger Van Zant (William Fichtner).

What I love about this film is the leisure it takes in developing the underworld, the seemingly innocuous details that only serve to emphasize the tragedy of its scope. Take Donald Breedan (Dennis Haysbert) for instance, a very minor character who operates on the outskirts of the narrative for the majority of the runtime. Recently released from prison, Donald is a getaway driver trying to make good at the urging of his sister and finds himself being cheated by his boss at a local diner where he works as a fry cook. Although he only appears halfway through the film, and in very few scenes after his introduction, Donald represents the core of Heat's thematic concerns. He is possessed by his work, he lives for the adrenaline that comes with the criminal life and his fight against it is fruitless, not only because of his personality but because of outer forces. His boss, one of the few representatives of a normal citizen operating outside the realm of the criminals and the police (others include a deadbeat father we never see, a lazy subject of humiliation named Ralph (Xander Berkeley) and the mother of a prostitute who goes to pieces when confronted with her daughter's death), is a son-of-a-bitch of the highest order who continually takes advantage of his position to keep Donald from success.Philosophically Heat succumbs to a rigid application of fatalism, each character operating on collision courses with obstacles they perceive yet are unable to avoid. Donald realizes the risks of driving for McCauley, yet he signs up for the job because it is his nature, his unavoidable destiny. And that's where Hanna fails, he never fully comprehends the innate drive for justice that is at the center of McCauley, the need to have things on an even and understandable plane. When McCauley is faced with a fork in the road and has to make a decision between Waingro and a blissful future with Eady, he cannot escape his inner demons and so has to rectify the wrong that has been done him. Once again his inability to compromise even minor details of his work causes him great distress and in the end proves to be his undoing.

The film is an ensemble piece centered around the two key performances by De Niro and Pacino. While Pacino is regrettably stuck in his post-Scarface 'quiet quiet loud' routine, he manages to give a fairly credible turn as the loose cannon of the police department, frustrated by the deterioration of his marriage and the confusion of his daughter-in-law and rejuvenated only by the chase McCauley leads him on. De Niro, on the other hand, is as good as he's ever been. He is intensely calculating, clearly focusing on each task at hand and measuring the importance and significance of every word he says. While Heat could've easily coasted on the backs of these two screen legends (like its marketing did), Mann chose to fill his cast with actors and actresses capable of giving outstanding performances. From the tired and strained relationship of Val Kilmer and Ashley Judd to the menacing but friendly Tom Sizemore, the deck is loaded in Heat's favor and it pays off in spades.As I mentioned, Heat was originally marketed as the meeting of two cinematic titans with taglines like "From 'The Godfather' to 'Scent of a Woman'. From 'Raging Bull' to 'Goodfellas'. Two of America's celebrated superstars will finally collide." Heat betrays those expectations by using the two leads' talents to enhance the narrative rather than create some sort of cinematic milestone capitalizing on their mutual respectability. The film is better off for its use of great actors like De Niro, Pacino, Voigt, Kilmer, Judd and Sizemore, but only because of their ability to sell the writing and to work within the limitations of Mann's extremely provocative and unconventional skillset. This skillset is amplified with the help of the pitch perfect cinematography by Dante Spinotti that makes Heat the visually exciting triumph that it is. Heat is the kind of epic, worthwhile crime saga that is rarely made anymore and its ability to present these morally skewed characters functioning in morally skewed settings and situations without being heavy handed or didactic is of such importance that Heat transcends its genre's limitations and becomes what few can ever hope to be; a great film.
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Heat at Amazon

This was written for Radiator Heaven's Michael Mann Blogathon.

Thief

Thief - 1981 - 122 minutes - Directed by Michael Mann
Starring James Caan, Tuesday Weld, Willie Nelson, James Belushi, Robert Prosky, Tom Signorelli, Dennis Farina

"If there's somebody close to you, you'll ruin it with a lie. If they're a stranger, who the fuck are they you gotta lie to?"

Renowned director Michael Mann's first theatrically released feature length film Thief is an intimate portrait of the criminal world from the inside out, a viewpoint which oozes authenticity thanks to the source material's origins as fiction written by real-life jewel thief John Seybold. Seybold also served as technical advisor on set to ensure complete and total adherence to the reality of the underworld's inner workings, including the inclusion of the thermal lance and the other tools used throughout the film by the protagonist. This realism lends the proceedings a much needed sense of weight, shifting the focus of the film from the fantastic to the down-to-Earth. Thief is the kind of film that censors were afraid of during the creation of the Hays code, and once that code had been demolished in 1968, filmmakers were free to create films of unending adherence to fact, a freedom that some would argue has given way to 'instructional' crime films.With an opening that's almost without exposition, we are introduced to Frank (James Caan) in the midst of a job. We see Frank's two partners, one listening to the police band radio and the other with a fistful of wires, and then Frank loiters just long enough to check if the coast is clear and then leaves through the back, making an effortless getaway. Like most of Mann's later protagonists, Frank is a consummate professional unconcerned with the day-to-day routine of the average person's life and generally unwilling to expand his horizons. About fifteen minutes into the film he is asked by his fence whether he wants to meet the people buying his goods, his reply is stalwart and economical, "If I want to meet people I'll go to a fucking country club."

This refusal of the social norm, denying the need to know the people you're in business with, is the catalyst for the majority of the drama contained within Thief. After he brushes off the fence's invitation, that very same fence is knocked off just before delivering Frank's end of the transaction. With none of his money at hand, Frank goes straight to the source of the murder and finds Leo (Robert Prosky) at the top of the food chain. Leo is gentlemanly in returning the money and in turn makes Frank a proposition; work for him, minimize risk while maximizing profit. That Frank agrees to work for Leo on a trial basis is almost an after thought as Leo takes over Frank's life bit by bit. Frank's life is divided into his work and his goals, and he allows little else into it. His goals are neatly organized on a small piece of paper he keeps in his wallet which maps out the rest of his life, including his woman Jessie (Tuesday Weld), his best friend Okla (Willie Nelson) and a future filled with children and general suburban happiness.Leo pollutes these dreams throughout the film as he gets his hooks deeper and deeper into Frank, making him inseparable from the life Frank carves out for himself. Once Frank decides to excise himself from the criminal underworld he's become such an indelible part of, Leo uses his control over Frank to push him back to work, threatening such horrible fates for Jessie and Frank's newly adopted son that it pushes Frank to the brink of insanity. Thanks to a 17 year stint in Joliet State Penitentiary Frank views his life in a material fashion, as in what he has and what he is going to have, and thus is able to remove his sentimental and emotional attachment to the businesses he has nurtured and even the family he has begun. This makes the film's brilliantly executed conclusion both believable and thematically important, as Frank is faced with the choice of succumbing to Leo's power, he instead takes the alternate route, burning his businesses and evacuating his family so that he might deal with the problem himself. Charging the house alone Frank cuts a startlingly determined figure and we realize that the obsessive quality which shines through when he is working towards his goals has all been focused on the resolution of his last obstacle.

In retrospect, Thief can be seen as the encompassing totality of Michael Mann's pet themes, in particular his cold and calculating obsession with passionate employment and the masculine camaraderie which evolves from working in close quarters with other men. The latter preoccupation with the unique maleness of his protagonists has always eroded the importance of his feminine characters, relegating them to the periphery of his films. Within Thief Jessie plays an important part only as she relates to Frank, she exists as an object, something for Frank to attain and so his need for a family appears identical to his compulsion to take down scores, there is no love only normality, only desire. Tuesday Weld is able to do as much as could be done with her relatively small role, reacting to Caan with a liberal but meek voice of dissent, but Caan dominates the picture as is his right. Giving a performance as varied and complex as he had in The Gambler, Caan emits a kind of infectious glee in his happiest moments that acts as a counterpoint to the ferocity he displays in more tempestuous scenes, making him impossible to look away from whenever he's on screen.Stylistically Thief is not nearly as accomplished as Mann's later films, in particular his magnum opus Heat which utilized light and composition so deliberately it shamed its peers into more substantial aspirations. However, what it lacks of the expressionistic control Mann would later exhibit it more than makes up for with cautious realism, a smothering atmosphere of gray skies and wet streets that appears less painterly and more unsuspecting. Thief is a measured, even-handed picture that features little of the nervousness that marks so many first features, instead it seems like the work of an old hand, a man who knows exactly the kind of director he is and works to his own skillset. While parallels have been drawn to the Hollywood noir period of heist films, in particular Huston's The Asphalt Jungle, I find Thief much more akin to Jean-Pierre Melville's Le Samourai and the zenith of all crime dramas Le Cercle Rouge.

Mann and Melville both have a strange adherence to reality but also to stylization, the marriage of the exotic with the mundane, as well as a rhythmic knowledge of when and where to capitalize on silence. This ability to elevate the stillness of a scene by introducing desperate quiet goes well with Mann's all around excellence in sound work, this time relying on eighties soundtrack gurus Tangerine Dream who supply the film with a tense if somewhat dated score that Mann cuts off at just the right time. If the film suffers a bit for its odd and unnecessary appearances by Willie Nelson and James Belushi it is to the other actors' credit that no scene is ever capsized, each is enjoyable to watch and integral to the plot.Thief is a film of an accomplished filmmaker even if he didn't know it yet, it's a testament to all the things that were great about seventies filmmaking that never really paid out in the eighties, and its more subversive qualities make it timeless. A shame that the film never got the respect or acclaim that it deserved, Thief contains some of Mann's best work and one of Caan's greatest performances, and that alone is enough to command the viewer's attention even at this late a date.
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Thief at Amazon.

This was written for Radiator Heaven's Michael Mann Blogathon.

Bend of the River

Bend of the River - 1952 - 92 minutes - Directed by Anthony Mann
Starring James Stewart, Arthur Kennedy, Julia Adams, Rock Hudson, Lori Nelson, Jay C. Flippen, Stepin' Fetchit, Henry Morgan

The 'man with a past', that solitary figure who drags along with him the baggage of a violent and oftentimes regrettable personal history, is a staple of the western genre. And few men could convey the inner turmoil of this traditionally conflicted individual better than the stalwart James Stewart, a man who, at the top of his game, could make a singular movement with his mouth to indicate his discomfort with a situation. This ability to use minimal gestures and motions to give audience's information about his mysterious characters was put to great use in Anthony Mann's 1952 western adventure Bend of the River, the second collaboration between the two after the extremely successful Winchester '73. Bend of the River also brought back Winchester '73 co-stars Rock Hudson and Jay C. Flippen as well as screenwriter Borden Chase, and the growing comfort levels shows in an unorthodox but well-developed bit of western gold.James Stewart plays Glyn McLyntock, an ex-raider of the Mississippi border who has mended his formerly wicked ways and has decided to settle down as a farmer, beginning this transformation by leading a group of settlers, led by patriarch Jeremy Baile (Jay C. Flippen) down the Oregon trail and over to Portland. Along the way he comes across a vigilante mob about to hang Emerson Cole (Arthur Kennedy) for horse-thievery. He breaks up the group and lets Cole tag along with the settling party, developing a closeknit camaraderie once he discovers Cole's similar background and yearn to change. Quickly after returning to camp the two men discuss the Shoshone Natives in the surrounding brush until an arrow strikes Baile's oldest daughter, Laura (Julia Adams), which sends Glyn and Cole out after the Indians. Glyn sneaks through to the other side of a small river where he begins searching for the Shoshone, only to be surprised by a falling corpse with Cole's knife in its back. The two's bond is strengthened as they save each other time and time again and murder the remainder of the Indian group, eventually returning to camp and setting off for Portland.

Once reaching Portland they find that Laura is unable to continue on and so they leave her there in Cole's care, the farmers and Glyn moving forward into the unsettled territory with the promise that Laura and the much-needed food and supplies will be forwarded later in the year. But time passes and the supplies never arrive causing the fear of the oncoming winter to take hold of Jeremy and Glyn. The two set off back down to Portland to investigate and find the town has been brought to its knees by the local mining community thanks to the discovery of gold. Prices have skyrocketed and men who'd previously been kind and courteous have soured in the interim. Glyn refuses to take a refund instead of the now desperately required supplies and hires several men to load them onto the steam boat heading up river. The supplier hears of this and immediately reaches for his gun but Glyn makes short work of him and his croneys thanks to Cole and a handsome young gambler named Trey Wilson (Rock Hudson).Stewart cuts a lean, gangly silhouette in Bend of the River, and his usually reserved demeanor gives way to a commanding presence equal to that of other, more typical and picturesque cowboy figures. Seeing as how director Anthony Mann's sensibilities have always been suited to the film noir, Bend of the River is remarkable for its ruminations on the conflicted nature of violence and greed. Thematically Mann plays with the idea of redemption, introducing the possibility that Glyn can recover from his past misdeeds and that Cole could be a suitable husband for Jeremy's daughter, but while one of these becomes evident thanks to Glyn's hard fought mind for justice, Cole's personality is unable to right itself and he devolves into a rotten and greedy antagonist.

Bend of the River is about choices and how it is never too late to make the right one. Glyn is a morally admirable character but we learn quickly that he was not always like that, that he had to go through a violent evolution to become such a righteous figure. Cole, on the other hand, seems to stick around because of his affection for Glyn and when the opportunity for profit arises he cannot contain his true motivations. These motivations operate at odds with Cole's need for male camaraderie, a need he establishes in his several plays to save Glyn's life, from assisting in the slaughter of the Shoshone to a hectic shootout aboard the steam ship. He is willing to risk his life for the life and protection of his friend, yet he is unwilling to lose materialistic wealth for the sake of the settlers, a group of people he seems to view as lesser due to their incompetence with weapons and their lack of monetary value.Anthony Mann makes good use of his cast and crew, tweaking Stewart's performance beyond what is normally expected of the generally moral and decent persona he had built for himself. Kennedy also goes above and beyond expectations as the compelling antagonist whose arc is steep but believable. He shows capabilities for great moments of quiet, such as his silent gestures to Stewart while knee deep in the river bed. Much can also be said for the talent of Borden Chase, working from a novel by William Gulick, who reveals very little backstory of the characters yet is able to keep them interesting and unpredictable. We may get a sense that trickery and a change of heart is in the cards for Kennedy, but his opportunities for backstabbing are plenty and his capacity for mercy shows as often as his greed. Thanks to the combined efforts of Mann, Stewart, Kennedy, Chase and the extremely capable cinematographer Irving Glassberg, Bend of the River is a superb adventure of great intelligence and entertainment value, a mixture of visual splendor with a well-drawn narrative that leaves us satisfied by its conclusion's ferocity and inevitability.
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Bend Of The River at Amazon.

Rio Grande

Rio Grande - 1950 - 105 minutes - Directed by John Ford
Starring John Wayne, Maureen O'Hara, Harry Carey Jr., Ben Johnson, Victor McLaglen, Claude Jarman Jr., Chill Wills, J. Carroll Naish, Grant Withers

"Ramrod, wreckage and ruin, still the same Kirby Yorke."
"Special privileges to special born, still the same Kathleen."

Due to an inability to raise the funds for the Irish production of The Quiet Man, John Ford, John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara devised a plan to fashion a final entry to Ford's renowned Cavalry trilogy to capitalize on their popularity and be able to finance the touching tribute to Ireland and Irish tradition. Affected by the three's enthusiasm for sentiment (in a similar vein the film prominently features the Sons of the Pioneers, an almost saccharine but extremely effective singing group), the film is a breathtaking and restrained conclusion to an already impressive saga spanning Fort Apache and She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, two extraordinary westerns with an increasingly grand scope. Although similar in basic plot to the later comic western McLintock! directed by Andrew V. McLaglen, Rio Grande is of much greater depth and restraint than that film, making brilliant use of the exquisite chemistry between the two leads as well as Wayne's vulnerable paternal instincts, the tiniest wounded expression contradicting the public's already established image of the man himself.The title Rio Grande refers to the river which separated the cavalrymen from the Indians in Mexico, a vast border through which the cavalry were unable to pursue the Native Americans despite the inevitability of their capture and defeat were they to follow. Rio Grande paints a black and white portrait of Lieutenant Colonel Kirby Yorke (John Wayne), previously seen as the rebellious Captain in Fort Apache who stood up for his troops and was tossed to the side as a result. Here he is as authoritative as ever, this time without an equally compelling antagonist to bump up against and so he is given much more of the running time. His central conflict concerns the arrival of his son, Jefferson Yorke (Claude Jarman Jr.), a new recruit to the cavalry after his mathematics failure at school. While he has not been in contact with Jefferson for more than 15 years he immediately strikes up a bond with the boy despite trying to treat him as he would any recruit.

This conflict is compounded by his wife's arrival in camp, the lovely and extremely maternal Kathleen Yorke (Maureen O'Hara), a woman who wishes to buy out the boy's contract and have him return home with her. Lt. Col. Yorke wants to impart the knowledge that every man must be held to his word to his son and so refuses the release of his contract, an act which Mrs. Yorke comes to understand through the film as necessary thanks to the selfless deeds the cavalry commit themselves to. Jefferson himself finds the Army a worthwhile venture, making friends with Troopers Travis Tyree (Ben Johnson), who also appeared in She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, and Daniel Boone (Harry Carey Jr.). The three form a fun-loving, youthful unit who become closer after Tyree is revealed to be wanted for manslaughter and Yorke is faced with a soldier's fight in which he is beaten badly by a much older cavalry man. Yorke continues to prove himself a worthy soldier in his dad's eyes and soon Kirby begins to show favoritism, sheltering the boy from the harsher duties of a soldier's life. While he is aware of his son's resentment to being held back, his wife warms to Kirby even further when this protective instinct begins to seep into his personable but strict military veneer.Rio Grande continues the cavalry trilogy's tradition of being obsessed with the minutiae of army life, from the camaraderie that establishes itself between respectable officers to the sacrifices cavalrymen were forced to make during their day to day routines. The film submerges us in the cavalry and thanks to the efforts of John Ford's go-to cinematographer (Stagecoach, Young Mr. Lincoln, Wagon Master), Bert Glennon, they've never looked more majestic as they march along the horizon. The Native Americans, however, are notably more menacing than in the previous films, resorting to stealing the cavalry men's sons and daughters and hiding out in an encampment near an empty church. The wondrous photography amounts to quite a bit in Rio Grande, as it is probably the best black and white photography in the already visually accomplished trilogy.

Performance-wise the film extends the trend of continued excellence, from one of the greatest performances of the masterful John Wayne to the youthful exuberance of Claude Jarman Jr. all the way through to the motherly charms and resistant pride of Maureen O'Hara. Wayne's return as Lt. Col. Kirby Yorke is one of many great performances Wayne would give, yet it is remarkable for the conflicted kindness that shines through in every scene. He gives a realism to his paternal love that rides up against his military duty and when he finally breaks down and assigns his son as escort to the women and children's wagon train we can see his acceptance of paternal duty. In the film's most touching moment he discusses a late night raid on the empty church housing the children with Trooper Tyree, giving Tyree free reign to pick his companions on this extremely dangerous mission. Tyree picks Daniel Boone and Jefferson Yorke, the unexpected choice of Kirby's son wounding him silently. Yorke stares at Tyree for a very powerful and still moment before allowing him to continue on with the mission, but the moment stays with us for the remainder of the film.Yorke's efforts are multiplied and his will is strengthened by the vulnerability of his son, and Wayne does a brilliant job of convincing us of this without ever saying a word in its regard. O'Hara also does great work exhibiting her affection for Wayne and for Jarman, the three form a believable family unit wich sits at the core of the film, acting as the foundation for all of the drama that the film builds upon. It is because of this deliberate realism of the family that the other characters, cavalry men who have more than a modicum of experience in dealing with the Yorkes, act so well with the trio. Each of these men, in particular Victor McLaglen, give us the sense that they have lived through a lot of tough times with Wayne and O'Hara, and it is because of their familiarity that the film works so well. My favorite of the trilogy and certainly one of the greatest westerns ever made, Rio Grande is a showcase for Wayne's depth and proof that Ford and Wayne were one of the most dynamic director/actor duos of all time with an enthusiasm and technical prowess that has yet to be matched.
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Rio Grande at Amazon.