Showing posts with label 1967. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1967. Show all posts

Saturday, May 16, 2009

The Graduate (1967)


"Hello darkness my old friend. I've come to speak with you again."

Those lines, from Simon & Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence", open and close The Graduate and they speak for much of the film's tone. Mike Nichol's film is, in some sense, a sex comedy. It also, in some sense, reflects the spirit of optimism and rebellion that characterized the 60s. Yet the pervading tone is sadness; this is above all a film about alienation and loneliness. The ending of the film is fondly remembered - the film's hero runs off with the girl of his dreams, getting on a bus as they begin their new life together. But the most telling shot comes when the couple sit down, and look at each other. They have nothing to say, nothing to share. There is a distance there that is unsettling. And then the sad chords of "The Sound of Silence" begin as the bus rolls off into an uncertain future.

I have spoiled the ending of the film, but The Graduate is so firmly ingrained in popular culture that I feel little guilt in doing so. Even those who are not familiar with The Graduate can feel its influence today. Of course, it launched the careers of such talented people as Dustin Hoffman and Mike Nichols, but its reach extends further. Released a year before the Summer of Love, The Graduate's frank depictions of sexual activity broke barriers in Hollywood. And it began the trend of popular music being incorporated into movie soundtracks. Yet despite all the imitators, The Graduate remains fresh today.

Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) is the quintessential overachiever - track star, award winner, bright young scholar. But he returns home after college with no idea of what to do with his life. Soon enough, he becomes seduced by one of his parent's friends, the attractive Mrs. Robinson (Anne Bancroft). But soon after the affair breaks off, Benjamin falls in love with Mrs. Robinson's daughter Elaine (Katharine Ross).

This kind of material could be the stuff of soap opera, but not here. The film's director, Mike Nichols, initially looked for a typical Californian type - tall, blond, muscular - to play Benjamin. But Hoffman's nervous mannerisms won Nichols over, and the film is the better for it. Benjamin feels like an authentic person, as does Anne Bancroft's Mrs. Robinson, who hides a history of alcoholism and unhappiness behind her sexy sophistication. The two are also gifted comic actors, and the early seduction scenes are hilarious, and rightfully famous.
The Graduate is not a film that lives and dies by its acting, however. Director Nichols demonstrates an evident visual flair. At the very beginning of the film, I was struck by the simple image of a sad-looking Benjamin, in profile, gliding across a moving walkway at the airport. Throughout the film, Nichols create similar compositions that suggest Benjamin's utter loneliness. In one, he sits in a water suit at the bottom of an abandoned pool. In another, he stands in the middle of Elaine's college campus, dwarfed by his surroundings. These carefully composed images greatly enhance the film's mood.

I wish I could say that the film's second half was as good as its first. But Bancroft gets slighted in favor of Katharine Ross, playing her daughter Elaine. Although a great beauty, Elaine is also the dullest character in the film, with no discernible personality. Quite simply, nothing in the second half of the film matches the comedic heights or emotional depths of the first. Another problem throughout the film is the adult supporting actors, who all seem to be playing caricatures of superficial materialists. With the possible exception of Mrs. Robinson, there is not a single likable adult character, and this hamfisted generalization is tedious.

So yes, The Graduate does have its share of problems. But it casts such a captivating, almost effortless spell that its shortcomings are easy to forgive. The film is a snapshot of the 60s, to be sure, but to this day it has lost none of its emotional power. So here's to you, Mrs. Robinson.

Verdict: A-

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Cool Hand Luke (1967)


Cool Hand Luke is about a young war veteran who is forced into a chain gang for a petty crime. There, he is tormented and abused by the tyrants who run the place. By this description alone, one could safely assume that Cool Hand Luke is a tragic, gritty drama. Yet I found the film strangely optimistic, a stirring affirmation of the human spirit in the face of adversity. And who better to embody such a spirit than Paul Newman, who exudes both a tough manliness and tender humanity in the role of Luke. It is perhaps his most fondly remembered role, and not without reason. Newman is Luke, and to imagine anyone else in the role is nearly impossible.

Lucas Jackson is first arrested at the beginning of the film for cutting off the heads of parking meters (as he explains later, "Small town, not much to do in the evenin'"). For this petty crime, Luke is forced to join a chain gang for two years. His fellow convicts, particularly a character named Dragline (George Kennedy) are at first put off by his status as a war vet and his outspoken attitude. But they begin to admire him for his bravery and free spirit at the same time that the prison wardens begin to punish him for it. "What we have here is...failure to communicate," Strother Martin's Captain famously tells Luke. But what they really have is a clash of wills, a clash of ideals, a clash of attitudes that eventually leads to untold suffering for Luke.

Cool Hand Luke has a strongly anti-authoritarian message. The prison guards are, for the most part, portrayed as sadistic tyrants who are obsessed with rules. One intimidating character, referred to as the "Man with No Eyes," wears reflective sunglasses and carries a shotgun everywhere he goes. He is the symbol of authority in the film. Yet the movie never bashes you over the head with its message, and there is some moral ambiguity. When one guard is forced to put Luke in the dreaded "box" for the night, he confesses that he doesn't want to do it, but is just doing his job. This line shows that the guards may simply be acting on orders, rather than actively trying to make the convicts' lives miserable.

Cool Hand Luke also functions as a Christ metaphor. Subtlety is not the key word here, however. After the egg-eating contest, Luke lies sprawled on a table in the crucified position. Luke refers to God as "Old Man." And like Jesus, Luke is a good person who endures suffering at the hands of those who misunderstand him.

There I go again, making Cool Hand Luke sound far more depressing than it really is. It is true that the story has many tragic elements, and great critics like Roger Ebert have argued that it is a deeply pessimistic movie. But I think they are missing the point. Even the sad, poignant scenes have a strong dose of humor and warmth.

Take, for example, the scene where Luke's mother Arletta (Jo Van Pleet) comes to visit. There are, of course, the moments of regret and sorrow, like when Arletta confesses to Luke how she always wanted to see him have grandchildren. But even though Arletta is close to death, her spirit is fully intact. This is no frail old woman. She sits in the back of a truck, cracking jokes, swearing, and puffing on a cigarette. She never once scolds Luke, but rather tries to enjoy the little remaining time she has with her son. Even on the tender subject of Luke's father, who apparently left years ago, Arletta finds the humor. "Your old man, Luke. He wasn't much good for sticking around, but dammit he made me laugh!"

That sort of optimism pervades the film from the start. When Luke is first arrested, he flashes a drunken grin at the officers. When he is beaten to a bloody pulp by Dragline, he determinedly keeps fighting. When he takes on the sickening challenge of eating 50 eggs in an hour, he fulfills the task with bravado. And even after he has been captured by the prison wardens for the second time, when it seems like his spirit has been broken, he flashes a weak smile. Newman has a sort of quiet strength that carries these scenes. After all that he has suffered, both physically and emotionally, Luke's spirit is intact to the end. It's all summed up perfectly by Dragline at the end of the film - "That old Luke smile. Oh, Luke. He was some boy. Cool Hand Luke. Hell, he's a natural-born world-shaker."

Verdict: A -