12 Angry Men

Perhaps the ultimate chamber drama, the celebrated story of a jury of 12 men presiding over a homicide trial, for good and bad, is as much a sociopolitical touchstone film as it is a damn good entertaining yarn. It's a courtroom drama full of clever twists and turns, heated dialogue and showcase acting.

12 Angry Men (1957) dir. Sidney Lumet
Starring: Henry Fonda, Lee J. Cobb, Martin Balsalm, E.G. Marshall, Jack Klugman

By Alan Bacchus

The 1950s was a unique decade in cinema, and 12 Angry Men exemplifies many of the hallmarks of this era in Hollywood. It comes in the post-war era of cinema, a new age influenced by the increasing political activism of the period as much as the need for escapism. As such, there arose the ‘issue’ film, something rare in Hollywood’s Golden Age, a film in which sociopolitical themes were as important as the story itself. While important in the context of the betterment of the world, it also meant often heavy-handed proselytizing and statement-making.

For instance, the films of Stanley Kramer, who made The Defiant Ones, Inherit the Wind and Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, were perhaps the models for this new movement. In 12 Angry Men, Henry Fonda, the unnamed central character and the man who is initially the lone proponent of the not-guilty verdict and eventually sways the whole jury his way, exemplifies the theme of social justice, racial harmony and democratization of everyone’s voice within a populace.

At times it all comes out with such aggressive force we have to roll our eyes. The character played by Lee J. Cobb, for instance, brow beats us as the clear antagonizing force to Fonda. His bull-headed prejudice against youth and somewhat less obvious racial bigotry are engrossed by Cobb’s over-the-top performance. However, we’re meant to sympathize with him because of his fractured relationship with his estranged son.

The '50s also saw the influence of television against the big-screen medium. This was Sidney Lumet’s first film, handpicked by producer Fonda based on the strength of his television work. Lumet’s direction is flawless, as he remarkably choreographs his actors and camera to create a visual dynamic mise-en-scene and visual design out of a small undecorated space. Lumet’s wide-angle lenses and crisp black and white photography look as impressive now as they did then.

Fonda’s performance as the social conscience of the picture fits in naturally with his career-long support of the underprivileged and downtrodden in society, complementing his work on John Ford’s films The Grapes of Wrath and Young Mr. Lincoln, as well as the socially conscious classics The Ox-Bow Incident and Mister Roberts.

What holds up best is the script adapted by Reginald Rose from his own stage play. The narrative is a near-perfect construction which surmounts its own clever concept. Rose expertly lays out the criminal case in the dialogue exchanges among the jury and the twists and turns of the story as each character rethinks each key item of evidence or testimony. The personal backstories of the characters, which are as important as the conflict in the present, while heady and forthright at times, are also expertly woven into the fabric of the fascinating, thrilling and clever criminal investigation.

***½

Network

Network (1976) dir. Sidney Lumet
Starring: William Holden, Faye Dunaway, Peter Finch, Robert Duvall, Beatrice Straight, Ned Beatty

****

By Alan Bacchus

While I wouldn’t go as far to say that television today as turned into what Paddy Chayefsky was satirizing back in 1976, 'Network' still seems as relevant and topical today as it was yesteryear, which goes to mean that very little has changed in television then as opposed to now.

Sure the landscape of television is near indistinguishable across this 30 year time span, but distilling Chayefsky’s critique of television to its core - the idea of news as ‘entertainment’, driven as much by the dollar and cents as any disposable reality television show - Chayesky is still right on the money.

William Holden plays Max Schumacher, a member of the old guard of journalism, the Edward R. Murrow days, when the value system was based on integrity rather than popularity. That was the 50’s. Now, in the 70’s, Max finds himself near obsolete. His old buddy and news anchor Howard Beale (Peter Finch), on the other hand, expresses his fears of obsolescence by suffering a mental breakdown and goes on an unruly improvised rant on national television – you know the line, ‘I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore’.

Ironically instead of firing Beale, the popularity of his speech prompts the fictional UBS network, last in the ratings, to put Beale on the air to host his own political talk show. Under the guidance of ladder-climbing female producer Diane Christensen (Faye Dunaway) the show is a hit, thus pleasing her cutthroat network executive Frank Hackett (Robert Duvall). Complicating matters is the fact that Schumacher, who resents the network for exploiting Beale’s mental deficiencies, has actually fallen in love with Diane and left his wife and children for one last shot at foolhardy passionate romance. But when Beale’s antics turn against the network not only is Max’s new relationship threatened but even the physical well-being of his best friend Beale.

“Network” was like a swan song for Paddy Chayefsky, one of the great writers from the Golden Era of Television, tapping into all his insider knowledge of the inner workings of network television with the deeply cynical edge of 70’s cinema. Under the direction of Lumet the executed style and tone fits in well with the so-called paranoia films of the 70’s. ‘Network’, like ‘All the President’s Men’ and’ The Conversation’ is born from a deep distrust of the establishment.

While Finch’s show-offy performance won him an Oscar (posthumously) Lumet’s assembly of supportering actors lend even more gravitas to the drama. Robert Duvall as Hackett brings steely-eyed male aggression, exemplifying, like a guillotine poised to strike at the first sign of weakness, the constant fear which hangs over everyone in the film/tv industry. Even Max’s wife Louise gets only a couple of scenes, but two powerful moments of cathartic anger which won actress Beatrice Straight an Oscar.

The 33-year age difference between Dunaway and Holden would seem mismatched as a romantic pairing, but of course, their difference works perfectly for the story, playing off Holden’s reputation in Hollywood as an aged movie star, a former sex symbol passed his prime and thus susceptible to the advances of the career-minded sexual predator Diane.

While the milieu of the television studio is dramatized with immersive reality there’s a distinct theatricalness to many of the scenes, which, for political and satirical purposes, lift it out of this reality. Faye Dunaway’s bickering with William Holden plays as much as political statement-making as it exposes their emotional conflicts. In these scenes, especially the climactic finale when the lovers break up, Chayevsky’s is at his least restrained putting his thematic metaphors front and centre in the conversation. Max’s comparisons of Diana’s rollercoaster of emotions to the structure of a screenplay shows Chayefsky at his most heavy-handed.

There’s no need to beat around the bush in the final moments though. In the traditional of great satire and also great political cinema Chayefsky leaves his audience with his point taken, however obvious. And its effects miraculously last well into this new millennium.

THE ANDERSON TAPES

The Anderson Tapes (1971) dir. Sidney Lumet
Starring: Sean Connery, Dian Cannon, Christopher Walken, Alan King

**

Everything I knew about the Anderson Tapes pointed to a minor cinema classic – a heist film made by one of the great filmmakers of the 60’s and 70’s, a period film that captured the zeitgeist of Watergate-era surveillance paranoia. But I hadn’t seen it. Sadly upon first viewing the film after all this time, it just does not stand up to the scrutiny of the great heist films that came before it, nor the great surveillance films that came after it.

Sean Connery plays Duke Anderson a burglar just released from prison. He quickly hooks up with an old fling, Ingrid (Dyan Cannon). In between their sexual encounters Duke hatches up a plan to rob the other wealthy tenants of the building. Meanwhile Duke is under surveillance by the police. They carefully watch and listen to his every move. Duke assembles his team and the financing needed to pull the job off. The heist goes as planned until a small slipup puts a wrench in the works.

As with the genre, we see the four stages to the heist – recruiting the perpetrators, casing the scene, executing the heist and the escape/aftermath. The recruitment and casing are well-executed. Lumet even casts a young Christopher Walken in his first major role. And Martin Balsam turns in a flamboyant performance as a gay interior decorator who appraises the goods.

Frank Pierson, one of the most successful writers in the 60’s, and 70’s, is curiously sloppy with his writing. Immediately after Duke meets up at Ingrid’s apartment it’s revealed that the Duke is under surveillance. By whom, and why? These questions are never answered. The film continues to intercut the surveillance on Duke in almost every place he goes to. The cops are everywhere and seem to predict his every move. Yet conveniently they don’t figure out that he’s about to rob Ingrid’s building. And when the cops do catch on, it’s not because of the surveillance, but because of the paraplegic kid who has a ham radio in his room. The surveillance story line is not only dropped without resolution but its consequential to the film.

Pierson doesn’t give us the minute details the genre demands either. The casing scene works well as a piece of comedy, but the job seems to easy for us to be impressed. And the idea of knocking off a building full of rich doctors is certainly one of the lamer scenarios in the genre. Even the mobsters who fund Duke’s operation admit the revenue they’d get from this small job is not even worth the risk. So why should we care?

The film also suffers from the technical experimentation common in films of its era. Lumet uses jarring sharp cuts as transitions between scenes. Of course David Lean used hard cuts between scenes, but his cuts were so precise and drew greater meaning from the film. Lumet’s transitions just feel careless and amateurish.

Typically, the film is shot with on-location authenticity. The lighting is harsh and the sound is, well, just plain bad sometimes. But it’s the 70’s and the rawness is part of the streetwise New York aesthetic. If anything “The Anderson Tapes” was the first of the surveillance paranoia films of the 70’s, made even before Watergate was exposed. Unfortunately Lumet and Pierson show lots of audio taping and wiretapping, but it has little impact on the story and remains a theme unconnected to the action or characters.

Curiously this film seems to have a cult audience. The new DVD is bringing much praise for Sony who dug the film out of the Columbia vaults. Film buffs who have fond memories may continue to enjoy the film for nostalgic qualities, but for others who are discovering it for the time will be in for a lackluster genre experience and nowhere near some of the great heist films that came before it (“The Italian Job”, “Topkapi”, “Rififi”) or even the surveillance films that came after it (“The Conversation”, “All the President’s Men” “Blow Out”).

“The Anderson Tapes” is available on DVD from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment

TIFF REPORT #11 - Before the Devil Knows You're Dead

Before the Devil Knows Your Dead (2007) dir. Sidney Lumet
Starring: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ethan Hawke, Albert Finney, Marissa Tomei

**

Sidney “Serpico” Lumet hasn’t made a good film in 20 years (“Running on Empty”?) but from the premise and cast I was hoping for a return to form. The premise is intriguing as hell – a two troubled brothers pull off a heist of their parents’ jewelry store, but inadvertently kill their own mother. The action sets off a firestorm of familial bad blood and Shakespearean-like tragedy. Unfortunately “Before the Devil Knows Your Dead” is not a return to form, it’s a terribly overwrought, implausible, overproduced, overacted melodrama without an ounce of truth.

The film opens with the jewelry heist. A masked man robs a kindly old lady of her store of jewels. The woman surprisingly fights back and winds up getting shot and killed. The guy driving the car, Hank, (Ethan Hawke) is shocked to see the ‘easy score’ turn bloody. In the next scene, we flashback a few days before to meet Hank and his family, when it’s revealed that the store owner was in fact Hank’s mother. The film moves back and forth across the days before and after the heist to tell us how it all shook down. Four days before, Hank’s ball-breaking arrogant brother Andy (Philip Seymour Hoffman) posits the plan to rob their parent's store to his younger brother. Both brothers are on the verge of crackling under social and financial pressures and appear to be living depressed, uneventful lives. Thinking it’s a victimless crime and their parents secure through insurance, Hank agrees to do the deed, the results of which we know already from the opening scene.

Hank and Andy’s father Charles (Albert Finney), frustrated with the ineffectual police investigation takes it upon himself to find the killer – not knowing he’s looking for his own sons. As the boys desperately try to hide their tracks, Hank spins out of control, turning sadistic and dangerous. The three men eventually collide with tragic consequences.

“Before the Devil Knows Your Dead” is a good film gone bad. Despite a talented cast and once talented director, the film sounds better on paper than on the screen. Philip Seymour Hoffman’s character is unrelatable as a human being. We first see him making mad animalistic love to his wife (Marissa Tomei), then having sweet modest pillow talk afterwards. But after this first scene he is a crazed maddog of a character from then on. His proposal to his brother is completely mishandled – the devilish unemotional sneer he emotes while telling his brother to rob their own parents is unnecessary and unbelievable. Why the pair of brothers couldn’t simply ask their parents for some money is a question never raised. Someone missed the boat here, because there’s a backstory to be explored as to how a father could raise their children to commit such a heinous act. The proposition is told to us so quick and early in the story we never get to ponder the extremity of their situation – and ask, ‘is this the only option for the boys?’

I suspect these issues were never answered in the script and as a result Lumet compensates by giving us some cinematic gymnastics to distract our attention. First, he jumbles the timeline, flashing forward and back in typical over-used Steven Soderbergh/ Quentin Tarantino fashion. Unfortunately the jumping around doesn’t heighten the drama or compliment the story. It’s artificial and distracting. Secondly, the performances are surprisingly weak. Philip Seymour Hoffman is over-the-top and scene-chewing. He’s so sadistic, cruel and dispassionate he’s a bad guy drawn from the action film genre. Thirdly Lumet distracts us by making Marissa Tomei strip down in the majority of her scenes. I definitely counted the first three scenes with her were played either topless or buck naked. She’s a fine woman to look at, don’t get me wrong, but it's too exploitive for a serious film.

Albert Finney used to be a great actor, but he is too old, shaky and lost in his role as the vigilante father. It’s a minor quibble, but Finney could not close his mouth in the film. Whenever he’s onscreen, his mouth is gaping wide open which makes him look like he’s constantly gasping for air. His actions in the final moments of the film seem tacked on in a conscious effort to be shocking. I just rolled my eyes and said – "nice try Sidney, you can’t fool me, this film is not profound, nor tragic - just overwrought, manipulative and unbelievable."