Miller’s Crossing (1990)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Miller’s Crossing (1990) – J. Coen & E. Coen

I’m a fan of the hard-boiled school from way back. I’ve read and re-read Dashiell Hammett numerous times over the years and I reckon the Coen Brothers have too. Miller’s Crossing takes place in the same sort of lawless burg that Hammett’s Continental Op worked (worked both sides, that is, as in Red Harvest, 1929), although the film also distinctly resembles The Glass Key (1931) with its protagonist, Ned Beaumont, a hopeless gambler who does the thinking for a tough guy political boss. Here we have Tom Reagan (Gabriel Byrne) working for boss Leo (Albert Finney) who makes the mistake of protecting grifter Bernie Bernbaum (John Turturro) the brother of his love interest Verna (Marcia Gay Harden) who herself isn’t exactly pure as the driven snow. Unfortunately, another up-and-coming boss/gangster Johnny Caspar (Jon Polito) wants Bernie’s head for butting in on a fixed fight. Caspar and his strongman Eddie the Dane (J. E. Freeman) think Tom can convince Leo to give up Bernie to avoid a gang war. But when Leo discovers Tom has been sleeping with Verna, this seems impossible. Tom changes over to Caspar’s side – or does he? Some of the crooked characters make a big deal about ethics but Tom isn’t one of them – he plays his cards close to his chest. In the end, the knots in the plot are tied pretty tightly and they seem impossible to unravel in your head after only one viewing – even watching this repeatedly years apart doesn’t necessarily lead to lucidity. But I can’t think of another film that has successfully captured the hardboiled ethos (and casual violence) of Hammett’s fiction on screen. The Coens (and cinematographer Barry Sonnenfeld), with their notorious attention to detail (and eccentric anecdote), have pulled it off with panache.

Misery (1990)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Misery (1990) – R. Reiner

Actually, director Rob Reiner does a much better Hitchcock impression than I would have expected (and yes, this is my first viewing of this Stephen King adaptation). You can actually see where he borrowed some of Hitch’s montage style to increase the suspense (i.e., shot of James Caan looking, shot of bobby pin on the floor, shot of Caan, shot of door lock; then when he is out of the locked room, shot of Kathy Bates’ car returning, etc.). But let me back up. The plot involves famous author (and King surrogate) Paul Sheldon having a car accident during a blizzard and being rescued by psycho “Number One Fan” Annie Wilkes (Kathy Bates, who won the Oscar for this role). She pretends that the phone line is out and that she has to nurse him back to health herself (she is a nurse by training after all) – but obviously he is her prisoner and she wants him to write a new book about her favourite character from his works. Things get fairly gruesome when he rebels but, in fact, the film often veers into black comedy (again not unlike Hitchcock) perhaps to release all the built up tension from Wilkes’ behaviour. Folksy Richard Farnsworth as the persistent local sheriff is a nice touch. I suppose the only thing I might quibble with is the over-the-top finale (not the coda); I tried to imagine how Hitch would have handled the conclusion differently (without so much overt violence) but I could not. Perhaps, as in Psycho, he would have kept these violent moments for their shock value. Kudos to William Goldman for his screenplay which kept the simple premise going far longer than I thought he could.

 

Goodfellas (1990)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Goodfellas (1990) – M. Scorsese

Scorsese pulls out all the stops to dazzle viewers with his cinematic prowess (aided immensely by editor Thelma Schoonmaker and cinematographer Michael Ballhaus).  Tracking shots are everywhere, for example, following Henry (Ray Liotta) and Karen Hill (Lorraine Bracco) as they move through a restaurant or club, meeting wiseguys as they pass.  But it’s the period music, from fifties pop hits to seventies classic rock, that punctuates each scene which really lifts the film.  You know the story:  Hill is a local boy who grows up to be part of the mob, but always on the outside because he is only half Italian.  He falls in with another outsider, Irish Jimmy Conway (Robert De Niro) and hot-head Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci), and they raise their status in the gang by robbing the airport for big money.  The script from Nicholas Pileggi’s book is based on a true story and we are lead through it (and the decades) via Liotta’s voiceover.  Paul Sorvino plays the local boss.  All of the characters are morally corrupt and dubious -- with stealing, killing, and treating women poorly staples of their repertoire – yet somehow Scorsese has us on their side, as he tells the story from their viewpoint (though he doesn’t seem to implicate us as Hitchcock would).  Even as Hill becomes addicted to the coke he starts dealing (and the voiceover seems to speed up and become paranoid), we are on his side hoping that things don’t come crashing down around him (but of course they do).  Throughout the film Jimmy and Tommy represent a rawer unpredictable force and the violence associated with their actions breaks up the otherwise groovy atmosphere that Scorsese creates.  Perhaps the film contains one subplot or scene too many and Liotta’s acting feels one rung down from that of the others, but these are minor quibbles in an otherwise superb piece of cinema.

Close-Up (1990)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Close-Up (1990) – A. Kiarostami

Kiarostami's film works on a number of different levels: 1) there is the surface-level story of a man who naively impersonates a famous film director and goes on trial for fraud; 2) the fact that Kiarostami asked the original people involved in the case to play themselves in a re-enactment adds another level -- are they acting as they really did or as they would like to be perceived?; 3) there is the level of "cultural difference" where we foreigners are trying to understand Iran through the film; 4) there is Kiarostami's direction which playfully defies cinematic convention (withholding key information, focusing on trivial details, incorporating technical flaws); 5) there is the level of cinema as topic raising questions about film directors as celebrities and the ways in which film can influence an audience. Kiarostami's magic is to turn a simple story, simply shot, into something rich and profound.