When venerable writer/director Billy Wilder was asked in the seventies if his latest film work wasn't out of step with the times, he shot back: "Who'd want to be in step with these times?"
I only wish Sidney Lumet had taken a page out of Billy's book. With his impressive track record, does he really need to practice the sledgehammer school of filmmaking reflected in the bewilderingly over-praised "Before The Devil Knows You're Dead"?
Make no mistake: "Devil" is bound to affect you. How could a movie that features continual, hysteria-inducing doses of armed robbery, matricide, in-family adultery, heroin use, and multiple close-range gunshots leave anyone neutral?
The critics tell us Mr. Lumet is back to his old form. Roger Ebert noted that "this crime melodrama is so superb that I almost want to leave it at that", but of course, being a critic, he doesn't. Rolling Stone eloquently called it a "dynamite film", while the increasingly shaky and bizarre New York Times even found it "curiously exhilarating". What?
While "Devil" technically delivers the acting and directing goods you'd expect (though I thought Albert Finney hammed it up a bit, and that Marisa Tomei's role was both under-clothed and under-written), the basic premise of the tale is sufficiently unusual (and potentially contrived) to warrant a fuller understanding of the central characters' motivations in committing a totally outrageous act: conspiring to hold up their own parents' jewelry store in broad daylight!
All we really learn- beyond little hints contained in hackneyed dialogue like "I'm sorry I'm not the son you wanted me to be"- is that the two brothers (played by Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke) are both perennial losers, and predictably, short on cash.
This sledgehammer trend in Hollywood is hardly confined to Mr. Lumet's latest effort. In Manhattan's Lincoln Plaza Cinema yesterday, the seemingly endless previews were so accelerated and deafening that patrons were actually groaning. After one doozy, out of the darkness I heard one woman exclaim simply: "I'm exhausted".
So- I'll take the minority view and assert that Sidney Lumet has done better-in fact, much better. To prove it, here's just a sampling of the director's finest prior outings- serious, intense dramas all- that each deliver the goods without hitting you over the head quite so hard:
Twelve Angry Men (1959)- A young man is accused of murder. As the jury deliberates on a verdict, only one man (Henry Fonda) holds out for acquittal, causing frustration among the rest. This advocate for reasonable doubt really annoys one particular juror (Lee J.Cobb), whose belief in the man's guilt is tinged with an underlying anger that has nothing to do with the case. As the debate continues, the pendulum of opinion gradually begins to move in the opposite direction. Lumet's first feature film is spare, powerful human drama of the first order. Fonda was never better as the voice of reason, and his fellow jurors are played by some of the best character actors of the day, including Jack Warden, E.G Marshall, Martin Balsam, and Jack Klugman. Finally, as Fonda's nemesis, Cobb projects the savagery of a man too often wronged, a victim of his own blinding ignorance. A big triumph made on a small budget.
Fail Safe (1964)- Through the unlikeliest of circumstances, an American aircraft loaded with nuclear warheads is headed towards Moscow, and cannot be recalled. Racing against the clock, US President Henry Fonda contacts the Russian premier through his interpreter, Buck (Larry Hagman), to inform him that a faulty radio transmission has sent the bombers past the "fail-safe" point. Is it too late to save Moscow and avert World War III? Of all the doomsday thrillers that have unnerved us since the 1960s, my favorite is "Fail-Safe." Set in the control room of Strategic Air Command, Lumet expertly uses his camera to build claustrophobia and tension. The scenes with Fonda as the President and young Hagman as a petrified Russian translator are especially riveting. Walter Matthau also makes your blood run cold as a dispassionate nuclear-arms expert. Made at the height of Cold War paranoia, this is a masterwork of relentless suspense.
The Hill (1965)- At a military stockade for British soldiers in North Africa, five men, including outspoken prisoner Joe Roberts (Sean Connery), endure the humiliations of hard-nosed Sergeant Major Williams (Harry Andrews) and the even more abusive Sergeant Williams (Ian Hendry), who, unchecked, assigns his charges various torturous, sadistic drills. After a man dies, however, Roberts protests, spurring the full-hilt abuse of the warden and his staff. Will his spirit break? Lumet's agonizing, tightly helmed prison film features a simmering turn by Connery, fresh off his flashy role as James Bond in "Thunderball", as a stalwart soldier who endures brutalization at the hands of Hendry's no-bull sergeant from hell. Ossie Davis steals at least one scene as a rebellious West Indian prisoner, but look for Michael Redgrave, too, as a brig staffer with a more humane disposition. Gritty and powerful, "The Hill" celebrates the heroism of defiance.
Dog Day Afternoon (1974)- Forced to take hostages after a botched bank heist, bisexual loser Sonny (Al Pacino) and his none-too-bright accomplice, Sal ( John Cazale), negotiate a tense standoff with Police Captain Moretti (Charles Durning) over the course of a sweltering New York City afternoon. With a local TV station covering the situation live, Sonny becomes an unlikely celebrity, especially once the poignant true motives behind his heist attempt are revealed. This fact-based, Oscar-nominated drama tracks two misfits who've witlessly imprisoned themselves in a no-win situation. Pacino's ruffled, passionate evocation of working-class Brooklynite Sonny-who riles the gawking crowd outside the bank with chants of "Attica!"-stands among his best work of the 1970s. The late Cazale, who played weak brother Fredo in "The Godfather," also breaks your heart as Pacino's meek partner-in-crime. Gritty, suspenseful, and superbly crafted.
Network (1976)- Diana Christensen (Faye Dunaway) is a type A network television executive who rides the wave of an unfolding ratings sensation broadcasting deranged televangelist Howard Beale (Peter Finch, in his final performance). Beale hits a chord with disillusioned Americans, urging them to chant his mantra: "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore." But the Beale phenomenon may not last, as Howard's ever more bizarre rantings signal an impending breakdown. This devastating satire of the modern broadcast age (written by Paddy Chayefsky) still has a lot to tell us over thirty years after release. Beyond portraying a business that bypasses quality in pursuit of the almighty buck, television serves as metaphor for a society mired in sensationalism and greed. Dunaway astonishes in a caffeinated performance as the ruthless Diana, and an aging William Holden is unusually affecting as a washed-up veteran of TV's glory days. Stealing the film though is Finch as the unbalanced Beale, who won a posthumous Oscar for his work.
The Verdict (1982)- Boston lawyer Frank Galvin (Paul Newman), a once-promising attorney turned alcoholic ambulance chaser, faces the battle of his life when he decides to pursue a medical malpractice suit against a powerful Catholic hospital on behalf of a young comatose woman's family. Of course, the case he lands appears impossible to win given his tenuous condition and the array of legal forces arrayed against him. A searing, moody, masterfully directed courtroom drama, the film earned five Oscar nominations in 1982, including one for writer David Mamet. Portraying Galvin, a mellowing Newman shows rare vulnerability as a man struggling to redeem himself before it's too late. Veteran player Jack Warden (who began his journey with Sidney on "12 Angry Men") is also superb as Galvin's sole colleague and friend.
For more winning Sidney Lumet titles, visit www.bestmoviesbyfarr.com.