Spoiler Warning


Always assume Spoilers and possible profanity in context. These are often adult themed movies.


Tuesday, July 3, 2012

On the Waterfront


What About It?
(For a full summary of the film, scroll down to "What Happens?" below)

Terry Malloy is a bum and everybody knows it, including himself. He even has a pan handler, the traditional "bum" call him a bum. The pan handler was injured, cheated by the union and can't work, but Terry seems to have no excuse. Everybody has his number, he hears it all the time. In this film, a bum would seem to be someone without character, unremarkable, easily pushed around, and not standing for anything. Basically he's a low level lackey.

It's obvious that Terry is a mess, and gradually we discover how he got that way. It's revealed that Terry has had a tough life, father killed under mysterious circumstances, which he isn't even willing to discuss, and then a long time spent in a children's home. His brother Charlie, the thinker of the two, became his father figure, along with Johnny Friendly who apparently "took him to ball games." Terry isn't as valuable as Charlie, but he's kind of a plus one. Charlie is the brains behind Johnny Friendly and Terry is a guy who threw a fight and got them a big payday. He's the tagalong little brother. For all practical purposes, Friendly's outfit is the closest thing to a family Terry has. As in many families, there are things you don't like, but to get along, they're not mentioned. Terry just assumes that everything is normal because it's somewhat better than where he comes from. We know that at one point things were going to be better, Terry would have a title shot and been a respectable boxer, but it all took a left turn, and Terry rolled with it because he wasn't calling the shots. Perhaps he accepts that his brother is smarter, or the money is tempting, we know that Terry isn't any kind of a planner, but that's the end of his chances. There are no more fights afterwards, just work at the docks. Terry doesn't forget but what's the point to being upset about it? As he might say, it would just get him in trouble.

Naturally, he grows bitter. As he tells Edie, his philosophy is "Do it to him before he does it to you." But for all the edge that Terry claims, he's remarkably passive. Edie observes "He tries to act tough but there's a look in his eye." In many ways Terry is little more than a child who's hurt and doesn't want to be bothered. His status as a competent boxer gets him no respect, because everyone knows him, he doesn't cause trouble or fight back, he just does what he's told. The nickname "Slugger" comes across as almost an insult half the time, as it fits him so poorly now. We begin the movie with him doing Johhny Friendly a "favor." He's upset when his favor gets the well liked Joey killed. He doesn't complain about the action to Johnny Friendly, he complains because it doesn't seem right that he wasn't told. Would Terry still have lured Joey outside? We don't know and neither does Terry, but it bothers him. Just like his resentment over his boxing failure, it builds inside him but he doesn't know what to do with it, so he carries it around. He's used to being disappointed so it doesn't make him angry anymore. Yet, Terry does have talents, and ones that johnny Friendly could use and he's certainly a man that doesn't like his resources wasted. It's possible that Friendly is breaking Johnny in to "real" work on the crime side of the waterfront. Calling Joey to come to the roof would seem a natural first step in breaking him in. As he soon afterwards is asked to infiltrate the church labor meeting it would seem this is the case. Start small and build him up.

Terry could likely submerge any bad feelings for a long long time, if not for some outside influence. He's a long way from being the "contender" when we meet him. But Edie and Father Barry slowly chip away at his languor and he begins to question the place he's in, because his expectations change. He's never met someone like Edie before, a girl who takes in his abrasiveness and selfishness and suggests that the harsh nuns of his youth could've done better by him. "With a little more patience and kindness. That's what makes people mean and difficult. People don't care enough about them." she says, and it makes a lot of sense to Terry, although he can't quite admit it. He makes a point of appearing difficult to Edie, but tells Father Barry "She's the first nice thing that's ever happened to me." From Terry, this isn't hyperbole, he means exactly that, which is why her ideas about everyone caring about everyone else are so hard for him to process. He'd love for things to be that way, but knows that they're not. We get a glimpse of Terry as he'd like to be when he's up on the roof taking care of pigeons, something he does because he wants to do it and not because he has to. He understands that there are hawks watching for pigeons all the time, and while it's a small thing he tries to help with that and goes a step further teaching local kids to do the same. Terry's not very bright but he knows about pigeons because they interest him. He likes the idea of protecting them, and similarly wants to protect Edie, although not in a way she can accept.

Father Barry and Edie both tell Terry that they won't tell him what to do, but they'll leave him to his conscience. The "conscience talk" starts to get on his nerves, because he knows all along what he needs to do, but he's in between states. He has the life he knows, and the idea introduced by Father Barry and Edie, that he wants but is afraid to accept. Terry doesn't make an instant turn around. It's actually remarkable how much pushing is needed to get him to act. The change begins when he's confronted by the biggest disappointment he can imagine, the thought of his own brother thinking of having killed. Charlie gives him the opportunity to finally confront the disappointments he's been shouldering. He wanted to be a contender and a more difficult truth than that, his older brother totally failed him. In this exchange we see the dynamic of their whole relationship, Charlie's easy deflection of responsibility and Terry's usual acceptance of this. Terry isn't angry, he's more hurt than he's been in his whole life. His very slight reaction to the gun, gently pushing it away, tells us that a gun pointed on him is minor compared to how this betrayal hurts. "Oh, Charlie." he says, and we get that this is everything. he's disappointed not only for himself but for Charlie too and everything between them. The life he "knows" has been as illusory as the one that Edie represents. At this point, Terry might be capable of anything, but as if to make sure, he has to see Edie in danger and Charlie killed. Although it takes a lot his killer instinct comes out. If not for Father Barry, we believe he would kill Johnny Friendly, although it's far more likely that Terry would be killed himself as Friendly would most certainly have anticipated the action. For a moment though, we see the pleasure Terry takes in making Tillio sit down and wait for what's coming and telling the well respected priest to "go to hell."

Luckily Father Barry is able to get to him, using boxing friendly patter. "You want to hurt him? You want to finish him?" Terry accepts that his testimony would hurt Friendly more, and based on the reaction Friendly gives when discussing stool pigeons, it's not much of a stretch to believe this. It does appear to be what would hurt him. A change of heart doesn't automatically fix anything though, and although Terry's testimony is assumed to have some impending affect, it doesn't seem to hurt him right away. Right in the courtroom Friendly threatens Terry. Terry resents having police guarding him. When the only good thing in his life before Edie is destroyed (his pigeons) he knows that what he did is not enough. Terry has by then givien up his passivity. He'll go "get his rights," he tells Edie, and shows up at the dock, where the D and D act is unchanged. Nobody admires him for what the did and they're all still on Friendly's payroll, even Pops. The injured homeless pan handler is given work and still there's nothing for Terry. It isn't until he approaches Friendly directly that anything changes, as this is a spectacle worth missing work over. Despite a few tricks, Terry is easily able to best Friendly in a fight, but that isn't worth as much as he might have thought, since Friendly's thugs are eager to jump in. This action also doesn't help Friendly as much as he thinks and the workers, too late to help Terry can refuse to work in solidarity with Terry, unless Terry leads them in. Power is finally out of Friendly's hands as the freight owner needs the work done and he clearly can't accomplish this. Father Barry shows up again for coaching, and as usual he helps in a way you might not expect. he encourages Terry, and then keeps anyone from helping him walk in the door to get to work. He knows that if this is to be a victory at all, Terry has to do it himself, and he does. What comes next, who knows, but if nothing else, Terry is living on his own terms for the first time since he can recall.

Marlon Brando is amazing in this role, giving a performance that stands out in film history. His Terry Malloy was a turning point for the film anti hero. He wasn't a good guy. He wasn't even good at being a bad one. Terry was a guy who really had no idea about anything other than his habits. Brando gave us a tough leading man living in a state of perpetual hurt. We're showed this more than told, by his mannerisms and how he carries himself. This guy was once a fighter, but every movement tells us that it was a long time ago. "Doing the right thing" is not a familiar concept to him and he needs to be given motivation before it even makes sense. We see the fog he lives in and its gradual clearing.

Rod Steiger is terrific here as well. For his small amount of screen time, we get a remarkably full character. Whereas Terry lives on the fringes, Charlie has bought into Friendly deep, as the right hand man. Charlie has his own delusions though, different than Terry's, bigger. Charlie sees dollar signs and suits. Charlie could well be the source of Terry's "philosophy." Yet, for everything that's happened, he still loves his brother, and once forced to look at how he's failed him, we can see it break his heart. He gives Terry his gun, knowing he won't see him again and asks the driver to bring him to the Garden, to relive a time when he still could've done right by Terry and the future could've still been a good one. Their "contender" conversation in the cab is one of the most remembered for a reason. It's rare to see so much history packed into such a small amount of screen time, but Brando and Steiger show us a whole relationship from start to brutal finish in a matter of minutes.

Eva Marie Saint is wonderful too. The lightness and goodness of her Edie being the perfect complement to Terry. Where Terry lives in a fog of denial and delusion, Edie truly believes that people are good. She's naive and he's simple and so they connect easily, both of them presenting the other something they haven't seen before. Even when she knows Terry had a part in her brother's death, she still finds him compelling, knowing there's more to him than the path of least resistance persona he tries to project.

Lee J. Cobb is a perfect choice for Johnny Friendly. His character towers over everyone, giving us a credible menace, believable as the force that keeps everyone living in fear for their lives. Able to be your best buddy one moment, and suggest you kill your brother in the next one, he's really the glue that holds everything together. Everybody hates him but no one wants to be on his bad side. His small army of thugs are a secondary menace to his own deep seated malice.

Karl Malden gives a passionate performance as Father Barry, the cheerleader/ trainer/ coach who has a knack for showing up at just the right time. We see a man consumed with his desire to clean up the waterfront to the point of mania. Being a priest, his addresses typically hinge on Christ references, but his personal commitment and outrage come through. He's willing to risk his own life, yet he's not above feeling frustration, which often happens when he tries to get anyone to share any information. His speeches to the workers, despite their passion, show us more than anything else that the workers fear is all but impenetrable. He's most useful in one on one scenarios, as we see when he makes his pact with Dugan, and in his interactions with Terry.

On The Waterfront is a great and powerful film, and aside from that, has significance from its place in Hollywood history. Elia Kazan presented it as a defense of his own "naming names" before HUAC and a condemnation of the Communist party. While this certainly lost him a few friends and colored the film a certain way, it doesn't change the fact that his motivation inspired him to create a great work of art. It's a beautiful film and a moving one. To me, the story behind the story doesn't take away from it's power. It's message could be applied to many situations even today, there are many who feel betrayed by a system that's larger than them but seems impossible to take down. It could probably use a few less references to "ratting" and "D and D." but it's not enough of a fault to really damage it. To enjoy the film, it's only necessary to believe that Johnny Friendly's outfit is totally corrupt, and this is illustrated well in the film. The viewer has no obligation to accept as a result that HUAC or their actions are acceptable or that Communists real or imagined fit the profile of Johnny Friendly. Is a strong case made for Terry Malloy to testify? Despite the inspiration, Terry Malloy is not Elia Kazan, so it's very easy to view the film on it's own merits.

I find it curious that even with Kazan's stated motivations, Terry's testimony lacked the impact you might expect at least from a film. Terry testified but Johnny didn't go away. Dugan testified and he got killed, as did Joey. It would be very easy to make an argument against talking from this film and certainly Father Barry's enthusiasm could stand a little scrutiny as he's essentially urging people to get themselves killed. But as he tells us, Father Barry is familiar with the idea of crucifixion. That here would be a heavy cost to do "the right thing." is perhaps more comfortable an idea to him than most. The idea of fighting the mob with religious faith seems like an odd choice of weapon, but then Father Barry's only function is to urge others on, so his sermons need only show a bigger picture than the insular world of the waterfront. Edie gives a more sensible suggestion, telling Terry they should leave. This would make sense, but not to Terry's pride and anger. Johnny killed his brother after all, and he feels like a fighter again. To not show up would be a loss.

Another inspiration for the story was a true account of a dock worker who with a priest's urging set out to take down a corrupt water front union. In the true account, the dock worker failed and in this film, except for the obligatory happy ending, we could as easily have ended up there. Terry's victory isn't knocking out Johnny Friendly, but managing a short walk after he's been worked over. Friendly isn't gone, and Terry's coworkers will in all likelihood do what they're told as they always have, especially if their lives or work are in jeopardy, which Friendly still has the power to do. Terry tells Friendly "You take the good goods away and the kickbacks, the shakedown cabbage and the pistoleros, and you're nothing!" Unfortunately, no one is taking those things away, except perhaps the Crime Commission, and their power seems severely limited. Short of killing everyone in Friendly's outfit, anything Terry can do would seem destined to fail.

But, since this is a film, Kazan can certainly pick a high moment for the ending and we can feel good for Terry and Edie and Father Barry and maybe even believe that things will be better at the waterfront. In the end it's not about the waterfront as much as it is about Terry trying to find himself a better way for himself. Personally I'd rather cheer from him trying to walk, than think of him hiding himself away from every disappointment he's learned to expect from his life. Even if it isn't realistic, it's good to see him finally win one and since it's a film I can hope his streak continues. At least he's not a bum anymore, even if his friends don't talk to him. And the viewers win too,because we get to see some of the best acting in history.



What Happens?

The film opens with Terry Malloy (Marlon Brando), and a group of men exiting a meeting with Johnny Friendly (Lee J. Cobb) the head of the dockworker's union on the NY City waterfront. Of the group, everyone is wearing a suit except Terry, who's dressed in casual clothes. Friendly gets into his car with his men and he tells Terry, "You take it from here, slugger."

Terry leaves on foot and stops at an apartment building. He yells "Joey!" up at one of the windows until Joey appears. Terry shows Joey a pigeon and says it's one of his, but he found it in his coop. Joey tells Terry "I gotta watch myself these days. Know what I mean?" Terry offers to bring the pigeon up to the roof and Joey agrees to meet him there. Once Joey leaves the window to go up, we see Johnny Friendly's men on the rooftop waiting. Terry lets the pigeon go and walks away meeting up with his brother Charlie (Rod Steiger,) and a couple of Friendly's men on the ground.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Black Rain


What About It?
(For a full summary of the film, scroll down to "What Happens?" below)

Black Rain is not a film that turns storytelling conventions on their ear. We've all seen buddy cop movies, compromised cop, and culture clash stories. We're not surprised the in this film the Eastern and Western philosophies each have something to offer the other. Mixing all of these tried and true stories together, however, has an interesting effect. Ridley Scott could've easily kept Michael Douglas' Nick Conklin in NY and examined him on the job while the pressure from Internal Affairs mounted. Nick is a very specific kind of cop. As is pointed out several times in the film, he's a "hero" cop. Based on what we learn about him, we can't argue with the IA Officer who doesn't like hero's because they feel "the rules don't apply." He's right in a way, but only up to a point.

Based on Conklin's actions, the criticism appears valid. He behaves as if rules concerning taking money off the top from drug dealers don't apply to him. It's quite obvious however, that he knows he broke the rules, and it bothers him. Conklin's frequent tirades against the "suits." and his rants about his fellow dirty officers "just trying to get by." have little to do with those officers and everything to do with him justifying his actions to himself. He excuses his actions by excusing those who did the same thing. He has financial pressures, kids to take care off, bills to pay, and the drug dealers wouldn't miss it. He only admits his guilt once, when Masahiri cuts through his evasions and asks him directly "Did you take money?" He then applies the excuses he gave for those officers to himself. At this point, Masahiri is not concerned, as he once was, with whether or not Nick is a dirty cop. He's concerned because by then he knows that Nick should be better than that.

It's also interesting that Nick tells Masahiri that Charlie didn't know he took money. Seeing the relationship between Charlie and Nick, it's likely that Charlie avoided ever asking him directly. He viewed Nick as a hero, a little rough around the edges, but was not ambivalent on the subject of stealing money. When Nick was ranting about Ronan, Charlie could admit that Ronan was a good cop, but did not see this as excusing his actions. He said "Just because Ronan was desperate and got tempted doesn't make him less wrong Nick." The cops taking money seems to be common knowledge, but they avoid talking about Nick's participation directly. Charlie admires Nick, and it would seem that he avoided asking a question he didn't want to know the answer to.

The dynamic between Nick and Charlie is a familiar one, each brings something to the partnership that the other doesn't have. Nick is aggressive and abrasive, while Charlie smooths things over. Charlie is impressed by Nick's straight shooting cowboy swagger. Nick appreciates Charlie's finesse. The partnership is an adaptable one too, and when Nick's aggression won't be smoothed, Charlie supports him fully. They're obviously good friends as well as partners. Nick can put aside his hatred of "the suits" and suggest Charlie use IA as a means to get ahead. Charlie's presence helps keep Nick from compromising himself even more. Andy Garcia plays him as optimistic and hopeful. Charlie clearly sees himself as one of the good guys, but he's not a Puritan about it. He attempts to see things in their best light, while Charlie can't help but see them at their worst. This quality, Nick realizes later, is what gets him killed. His willingness to play games with the Yakuza thugs, places him in the wrong place at the wrong time. "He should've known better." Nick laments, and he's right, but him not knowing better is what makes Charlie an endearing character. He's the pure, uncompromised cop of the two, and this is why it matters when Masahiri tells Nick that stealing disgraces Charlie's memory. Nick doesn't argue this, he knows it's true.

Watching Charlie, Nick and Masahiri interact is entertaining, and the three of them together is the ideal set up. Nick and Masahiri on the two extremes and Charlie serving as the buffer between them. Charlie very quickly takes a liking to Masahiri, making a point to remind Nick to try and keep him out of trouble with his boss. Their duet at the club is perhaps the lightest moment in the film and tells us a lot about both characters. Masahiri isn't as all business as he appears, and Charlie is a guy who genuinely likes people. It's also notable that the revelry would likely not have happened if Nick hadn't taken off to meet up with Joyce. Both Charlie and Masahiri are able to put Sato aside and have fun, while catching him is the only thing that Nick thinks about. This is likely what makes Nick a "hero" cop, and also a large reason why his life has spun out of his control.

Ken Takakura does a tremendous job as Masahiri, giving him enough complexity to keep him away from stereotype. He is quite firmly Japanese, and conscious of "the group," yet he can adapt and think outside the box when dealing with the American characters. His back and forth Japan vs. USA talk with Nick, is basically the two of them comparing stereotypes, although Masahiri's problem is deeper than "how Americans are now." He acknowledges that "you were wise then." which neatly mirrors the state of Nick Conklin, who undoubtedly started out strong only to get corrupted by dealing with the day to day pressures of life. Takakura is known as "Japan's Clint Eastwood." and he certainly holds his own against Douglas well enough. His reluctance to go along with Nick, doesn't diminish his effectiveness once he does commit himself. Nick gaining respect for him is a key element of the film, as both of his partners tell him essentially the same thing, that "theft is theft." His gift of the plates to Masahiri, hopefully indicates Nick adopting a fresh perspective.

Yusaku Matsuda is perfect as Sato, a villain who we sense is capable of anything. He isn't bothered by being a fish out of water. During his visit to America, he doesn't hesitate to butcher people. He'll do anything to get the respect he wants and seems to enjoy tormenting people, especially Nick and Sugai. Despite his youthful rashness, he is also willing to delay his gratification if he thinks it will pay off in a more satisfying way later. It isn't until the end of the movie, that he reveals to Nick that he can speak English, which tells us that his smirks during Nick and Charlie's plane conversation were due to him pegging Nick as a dirty cop. He is also willing to cut off his own finger in order to convince Sugai he's won, just so he can yank it away a moment later. Matsuda clearly put his best into the role and created a chilling and memorable villain here. During filming he knew that he was dying of bladder cancer, but kept it a secret although it made his condition worse. "This way, I will live forever." he reasoned, and hopefully he was right.

As we'd expect from Ridley Scott, who gave us Alien and Blade Runner, the experience of the film owes a lot to its environment. Set in Osaka, which was devastated in World War II, producing stories such as the "Black Rain" mentioned by Sugai, there is a haunted quality to it with massive commercialization built on top. The underground parking garages, labyrinthine open markets, and massive metal working factories, loom over Nick and Charlie. They can't get to their hotel, and they can't even talk to most people they run into. This is not the ideal situation in which to make enemies of the Yakuza, who know it all like the back of their hands. They are also forced to do it all without guns a fact which clearly unnerves them, being essential to American cops. Of course guns, aren't the real threat in this film, Sato and his crew prefer knives and swords, and they like to get flashy with them, as evidenced by Charlie's beheading. There are blades around every corner, while they are defenseless, another foreign element, and a brutal one. Even in America, Nick's gun is taken away when he fights with Sato, surrounded by meathooks in a slaughterhouse, he has to deal with Sato's blade, and the prospect of being suffocated with a plastic bag, foreign threats, not things he's used to dealing with. It's unfamiliarity with the environment that leaves Nick powerless when Charlie is killed, even though he can see every last detail. Add to the landscape the dark atmosphere and the persistent rain, and you get a bleak picture that mirrors the state of Nick's life. He and Charlie are "gaijin" and no one is interested in helping them. Osaka is oppressive, but not to the locals, they know how it all works.

Michael Douglas is perfect in this role, as a largely unsympathetic lead character. Nick is an effective character but not a likeable one, spending most of his time selling himself justifications that we already know he's too smart to accept. His main excuse for taking dirty money is a manufactured blue collar entitlement. He tells himself there's a war between he and those cops that bust their asses and "the suits." who, as it turns out, are justified in their actions towards him. The money obsession is the main uniting factor between east and west. When Sugai tells Nick (addressing him as a representative of America) "You made the rain black and shoved your values down our throats. We forgot who we were. You created Sato and the thousands like him. I'm paying you back." Nick can't really argue the point. He himself has sacrificed his integrity for the sake of a little money. He is not alone in this either. His dealings with IA tell us there are many cops under investigation, and Sugai's comment reveals that Sato is hardly alone in his fixation. In Japan however, Nick is exposed to a different way of thinking than he's used to.

The idea of honor/dishonor and obligation to a larger group as presented through Masahiri and even Charlie are able to sink in due to his strange surroundings and Masahiri exceeding his expectations. In Japan he has little support system and every vulnerability is magnified. This makes it easy for him to focus on finding Sato, and with the events that occur, to recognize his own failings. His interactions with the Japanese show him a side to being American that he hadn't really considered and his blue collar entitlement doesn't hold up to the scrutiny. He hates the "suits" yet Masahiri and Charlie, the two men he's closest to here, are constantly in suits, although they're lower on the totem pole than him. Nick's "cowboy" ethic also takes a beating as he is forced to rely on help from others. From the beginning, Nick is a dirty cop, although not a habitual one. He continually struggles to reconcile his wrongdoing with the idea of being a "good" cop. As demonstrated here, it took extraordinary circumstances to get him back on the right side of the line.

There are certainly some logic problems in the film. It doesn't make sense that Nick and Charlie would be sent to Japan, particularly when Nick is under investigation. It's also hard to believe that Sato's escape is effective, as you would assume the Japanese cops and airport security would've been on higher alert than to let Sato's gang pose as them and simply walk in and grab Sato, luckily choosing a different airplane door. Nonetheless, it's an exciting and gritty film, presenting a familiar dilemma, and several familiar plots in an exciting, and interesting way. The elements of the buddy cop film are split into two sets of partners giving both pairings an energy they wouldn't otherwise have had, particularly the Nick/Masahiri combination which is completely informed by the loss of Charlie. Certainly we're not spared any of the weight of that loss, Charlie's death, being one of the cruelest scenes in any film. From then on, Nick has no choice to realize that there are bigger things than money trouble and just doing your job. It doesn't aim to settle any East/West debate, but it does refresh the idea that regardless of what you need, wrong is still wrong.




What Happens?

The film opens with Officer Nick Conklin (Michael Douglas) on his motorcycle in plain clothes. He meets up with a group of other riders, remarking that another guy's new motorcycle looks fast. He suggests that they race for a $50.00 bet, which the other guy gladly accepts. They race through a hazardous construction zone, Nick decides to jump some obstacles, while the other motorcyclists wipes out trying to avoid them. After the other guy gets up, Nick asks for his $50.00, prompting the guy to say "You're a real fucking wacko. You know that?" Nick laughs and takes the money.