Don't Make a Scene (Redux): Chinatown

I've got a couple of "BIG" scenes I'm working on but haven't had the time to complete. So, here's a scene from Chinatown because a) it hasn't received many "hits" and it deserves a second look, and b) I'm reading Sam Wasson's "The Big Goodbye: Chinatown and the Last Years of Hollywood," which is an interesting read and makes you wonder how any movie ever gets made, let alone a masterpiece like this film.

 

The Set-up: Clues are everywhere in Chinatown. "Applecore." Jasper Lamar Crabb. Midnight visits to timed run-off's in the middle of a drought. "Middle of a drought and the water commissioner drowns. Only in L.A., huh?" 

Clues are everywhere. 

But you have to pay attention to the time-line, too. And you have to trust your instincts, as Jake Gittes does. Trouble is, Gittes' instincts don't always produce results that are, shall we say, constructive. He's a private eye specializing in matrimonial work—that is, splitting up matrimony—and he does a respectable business with un-respectable clients using his un-respectable ethics. This time, Gittes has a big fish on the line, and he knows it's going to lead someplace real big. Now, he's interviewing the last link in the chain and the one with the most gold in it. Noah Cross has a biblical name (a trope that's used a few times in other noirs, too) and he is a retired city-father for the Great City of Los Angeles. He used to own the water that feeds that oasis in the desert. And Gittes is trying to trap him in the only way he knows how—by bluffing Cross into thinking he knows more than he does. But he's not seeing too well with all those dollar signs dancing in front of his eyes. Because clues abound in this conversation. There's the way Cross never gets Gittes' name right, and never apologizes for it when he's corrected. Because Noah Cross is powerful enough that he doesn't have to remember names or acknowledge his lesser's.

And then there's the curious matter of the dog that barked in the night. Gittes holds this interview with a big hurking bandage on his nose, from when he got his left nostril slit for hanging around a water-dumping operation that nearly drowned him. But it's never mentioned in the entire conversation, nor in the movie by anyone but cops. Maybe it's because everybody assumes everybody's got something to hide.

That's what this nice little lunch is about: both parties ask questions to find out what the other knows. Both parties play little games with each other—Cross making Gittes feel uncomfortable with the fish and the questions and the obfuscation and Gittes slamming Cross with little bits of information to cut through Cross' bull-shit. Cross even offers to hire Gittes to find the missing "element" to the story—the third person to hire him in this whole mystery, a proposition that would have Gittes triple-dipping on the same situation. Triple-dipping. Water again. It always comes back to water.

Director Polanski shoots this scene very sparely, never getting in the way of the actors, the camera movements following the players on the rare occasions that they move. Polanski only breaks up the two-shot on two occasions: to show the detail of the fish on Gittes' plate (I suspect that's a studio request); and when Cross offends Gittes by asking if he's sleeping with his daughter. At that point the two men become separated in their own singular frames, and for the first time, Gittes is dominant in the shot, being photographed from a low angle, Cross, looking up as if in supplication. Two-shots are the key. Even when Cross is being deliberately obtuse, and facing away from Gittes. The actors are the key to this, with their respective echoes to noir's past--Nicholson with his short Bogart stature, and Huston, who directed Bogart in one of the most famous noir The Matese Falcon.* There's a lot of history going on in the background of this scene, both scenario-wise, and for the film-maker's.

Like Gittes, watch for clues. Don't be distracted (especially by that 1970's-era smog layer hanging off the horizon). You'll miss a big clue if you're looking at that.

The Story: Private Investigator Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson) has been following Hollis Mulwray, Los Angeles Head of Water and Power, for having an illicit affair at a time when he's opposing an important dam project. Then he turns up dead. His wife, Evelyn (Faye Dunaway), is not the same woman who hired Gittes to investigate the husband in the first place, and now threatens to sue him. Something's up, and Gittes doesn't like being played for a chump, or being threatened. He knows that there's a conspiracy to divert water in the middle of the night to play up Los Angeles' water shortage, and that Mulwray knew about it. Now, he's working for Evelyn to find out who murdered her husband, and his next stop is an interview with Noah Cross (John Huston), one of the city founders, and coincidentally, the father of his client and the former partner of the murdered man. Tight little family you got there. Things are gonna get tighter. 

Action!

Cross: Mr. Gits?
Gittes: Git-es. Noah Cross: You've got a nasty reputation, Mr. Gits. I like that.
Jake Gittes (dubious): Thanks.
Cross: If you were a bank president that'd be one thing. But in your business, its admirable, and it's good advertising.
Gittes: It doesn't hurt.
Cross: It's why you attracted a client like my daughter.
Gittes: Probably. Cross: But I'm surprised that you're still working for her--unless she's suddenly come up with another husband.
Gittes: No. She happens to think the last one was murdered.
Cross: How'd she get that idea? Gittes: I think I gave it to her. Cross: I hope you don't mind. I believe they should be served with the head. Gittes: Fine. As long as you don't serve the chicken that way.
Cross: Tell me, what do the police say?
Gittes: They're calling it an accident.
Cross: Who's the investigating officer?
Gittes: Lou Escobar. He's a lieutenant.
Cross: You know him?
Gittes: Oh yeah.
Cross: Where from?
Gittes: We used to work together in Chinatown.
Cross: Would you call him a capable man?
Gittes: Very.
Cross: Honest? Gittes: As far as it goes. 'Course he has to swim in the same water we all do.
Cross: 'Course, but you've no reason to think he's bungled the case.
Gittes: None.
Cross: That's too bad.
Gittes: Too bad?
Cross: Hmm. Disturbs me. Makes me think you're taking my daughter for a ride. Financially speaking, of course. What are you charging her?
Gittes (carefully): My usual fee. Plus a bonus if I get results.
Cross: Are you sleeping with her?
Cross: (Pause. Gittes gets annoyed.) Come, come, Mr. Gits, you don't have to think about that to remember, do ya? Gittes: (getting up to leave) If you want an answer to that question, Mr. Cross, I'll put one of my men on the job. Good afternoon-- Cross: Mr. Gits...
Gittes: Git-tes.
Cross: Gittes. You're dealing with a disturbed woman who'd just lost her husband. I don't want her taken advantage of. Sit down.
Gittes: What for?
Cross: You may think you know what you're dealing with, but believe me, you don't. (This stops Gittes. He seems faintly amused by it.) Cross: Why's that funny? Gittes: It's what the district attorney used to tell me in Chinatown.
Cross: Yeah, Was he right? Exactly what do you know about me? Sit down. Gittes: Mainly that you're rich and too respectable to want to get your name in the newspapers. Cross: 'Course I'm respectable. I'm old. Politicians, ugly buildings, and whores all get respectable if they last long enough. I’ll double whatever your fee is, and pay $10,000 if you find Hollis’ girlfriend.
Gittes: Girlfriend?
Cross: Disappeared, hasn't she? 

Gittes: Yeah?
Cross: Couldn't it be useful to talk to her?
Gittes: Maybe.
Cross: If Mulwray was murdered, she'd be one of the last to see him alive. 

Gittes: When's the last time you saw Mulwray? Cross starts to reply, then there's the sound of a mariachi band, and some men in formation clear the bluff about a hundred yards off. They are dressed like Spanish dons on horseback. For the most part they are fat in the saddle and pass along in disordered review to the music.
Cross: Sheriff's gold posse. Bunch of damn fools who pay $5,000 apiece toward the sheriff's re-election. I let 'em practice up out here.
Gittes: Yeah. Do you remember the last time you saw Mulwray?
Cross: At my age, you, uh, tend to forget. Gittes: It was five days ago, outside the Pig 'n' Whistle, and you had one hell of an argument. I got the pictures in my office if that'll help you remember. What was the argument about? Cross: My daughter.
Gittes: What about her? Cross: Just find the girl, Mr. Gits. I happen to know that Hollis was fond of her, and I'd like to help her if I can.
Gittes: I had no idea that you and Hollis were that fond of one another.
Cross: Hollis Mulwray made this city. And he made me a fortune. We were a lot closer than Evelyn realized.
Gittes: If you wanna hire me, I still have to know what the argument was about.Cross: My daughter’s a very jealous woman. I didn’t want her to find out about the girl.
Gittes: How did you find out? Cross: I’ve still got a few teeth left in my head, and a few friends in town.
Gittes: Okay. I’ll have the secretary draw up the papers. Tell me, are you frightened for the girl, or what Evelyn might do to her.
Cross: Just find the girl.
Gittes: I’ll look into it, as soon as I’ve checked out some orange groves.
Cross: Orange groves?
Gittes: We’ll be in touch, Mr. Cross.
Chinatown

Words by Robert Towne

Pictures by John A. Alonzo and Roman Polanski

Chinatown is available on DVD from Paramount Home Video.

While the City Sleeps

Saturday is traditionally "Take Out the Trash" Day, and while this film is certainly "trashy," it's sophisticatedly multi-layered.

While the City Sleeps (Fritz Lang, 1956) 

"I wonder what the nice people are doing tonight?" asks esteemed writer-author-journalist-TV personality Walter Mobley (Dana Andrews).

Well he should ask, because there are few nice people in his circle of work, which happens to be some form of multi-headed Hydra of journalism, known as Kyne Enterprises. The head of Kyne has just died and the heir-apparent Walter Kyne (Vincent Price) is now in charge, but is a bit feckless and knows nothing of the news business, nor, apparently is he willing to have anybody tell him about it as he decides to delegate. He's going to create a new Executive Director position that will answer to him without having to know all the details. But who is it going to be?

There're many to choose from, besides Mobley, an Edward R. Murrow-type: there's also the urbane head of the wire-service Mark Loving (George Sanders); crusty newspaper head John Day Griffith (Thomas Mitchell); and there's television head "Honest" Harry Kritzer (James Craig). They all want the job and will stoop to any advantage to get it. But Walter has other ideas. He's going to make the contenders fight for it in a "Hunger Games" kind of run-off—winner take-all, and the losers...well, they extend to more than Kyne Headquarters.

It just so happens they're in the news business and New York has a big news story: there's a serial killer in town breaking into apartments and attacking women and has been labeled "The Lipstick Killer"—that would be the ironically-named Robert Manners (John Drew Barrymore), a nervous, slimy type dressed in leathers. It's okay that we know who it is—Lang starts the film out with him carrying out one of his strangulations—as the director is more interested in the power struggle of the media elites eating each other to get the job of "Top Toady."

Meanwhile, as they connive, deceive, and block each other from finding whodunnit, the City sleeps, albeit not very peacefully.

This is territory Lang has worked with before, as early as his silent films for UFA in Germany. In his films Metropolis, Spies, the "Mabuse" features, authority figures wrangle in power struggles completely ignoring the plights of the ordinary citizens who might fall victim as a result. But, those films involve cat-and-mouse games between authorities and criminal masterminds. In Where the City Sleeps, the field of play is publishing/broadcasting, and the criminal is not mastermind, but a craven nobody like the child-murderer of Lang's M. While the department-heads wring their hands worrying about advantage, he's in the streets looking for opportunity.

Lang's film has enough layers that one might even miss that his film is lumping the newsmongers in with the serial killer in more ways than mutual benefit. For instance, how do they maneuver and manipulate the "contest" to their advantage? By throwing women under the bus, of course: Loving uses writer Mildred Donner (Ida Lupino) to seduce Mobley in order to get any inside info from the anchor (it doesn't matter that Mobley is engaged to Loving's secretary, Nancy Liggett, played by Sally Forrest); Kritzer is having an affair with Kyne's wife (Rhonda Fleming) in order to use her as a mole for scoops and news oh his standing in the contest and so she can talk up her lover—they've even set up a rendezvous apartment, which happens to be close to Liggett's, as well; and finally, Mobley hatches a scheme with the police lieutenant working the case (Howard Duff) to set up the "Lipstick Killer" using his fiancée as bait. "Nice!"

Mobley's little scheme is to go on the air, using inside knowledge of the investigation and taunt the Killer into targeting his fiancée as an act of revenge. Then, it should be an easy thing to just keep tabs on her until the killer makes his move. Easier said than done, and things get dicey enough that it gives these paragons of the public trust a little taste of terror in the midst of stabbing each other in the back for a single rung up the power ladder.  

The cast is great; everybody's a character actor who can milk their scenes for all they're worth and rattle off movie lines like they're still stuck in the 40's. The only thorn among roses is Barrymore, who seems to have gotten directions from Lang that might have been more effective in the silent era. He's all slack-jawed, hooded-eye malice who could only look like more of a pervert if he had the letter "M" chalked on his leather jacket.

Still, that's the only glaring misstep from one of the masters of German cinema, still employing the old tricks and getting away with it (because the tricks were novel and original when he invented them). One still sees the high-contrast shadows—even though the film is mostly a daylight picture, it's still considered "noir"—the surprises just out of frame, the window-partitioned world, and décor that reflects character. Lang even gets to use his old trick of having his actors facing the camera and delivering their lines directly to the audience, challenging them—in the age of television, it happens all the time!

I first saw While the City Sleeps—one of the last films Lang made in America—about a year ago, and I notice it's becoming a staple of movie channels, especially those that feature packages of "noir films." It's becoming more and more available and makes for entertaining viewing.

Soul

Pixar When It's Jazzing

or

"I am the coming together of all quantized fields of the universe. Appearing in a form your feeble human brain can comprehend. You can call me Jerry."

I freely admit that I should have seen Soul in a theater—I've seen every other Pixar movie on the big screen and I freely admit that the presentation-medium usually informs the reviews of those films. There's something about the detail work of Pixar's movies that pop more on a big screen. I had to watch this at home, though. Disney took the choice away from me, and I will admit it made me a little bitter. I say this because not seeing it all big-and-large, a couple millimeters to a pixel, might prejudice my review a bit.

But just a bit.

Soul did not move me to tears as other Pixar films have in the past. Its suppositions on the inner life of humans skews a bit in the same territory as Inside Out. Its designs seem to spend a great deal of time in the easily-rendered nebulous, and its points of view on "purpose" and "spark" may be too subtle for some who have not reached a certain age—you know, actually lived a life of varying degrees of success and/or satisfaction. All of this is in comparison of Soul to the rich history of Pixar and its output, which is without a doubt the most artistically and financially successful production studio out there. Most souls would shrivel up and die held against such a standard.

But, seen on its own, without (or even because of) that rich legacy, Soul is still a remarkable film of humorous dexterity and sophisticated conceptualization. And humor...plenty of that. And their continuing forays into multi-culturalism (necessitated once they run out of subjects that hid the limitations of digital animation in its early days-and they decided to combat the "uncanny valley" by leaping over it in artistic bounds) has not only made their films richer—well, naturally—but also counter-intuitively more universal.

It's also left it open to sniping from critics of certain sensitivities (and prejudices) who can't see the forest for the trees—attacking some aspect while ignoring the bigger themes of the picture. It's a bit like attacking Finding Nemo because "fish don't act like that" when the story is about "letting go." How did they survive watching Ratatouille when rats were cooking in a restaurant? 

It is the best day in the life of Joe Gardner (voiced by Jamie Foxx), a band-teacher suffering through a class with limitless room for advancement.* There's one promising saxophonist, but that's it. The next quarter is going to be an endless stream of clams and sharps and lagging. So, it seems like too much of a good thing when he's told he's been hired to teach band full-time, complete with insurance package. But, it's clear that his heart is in playing jazz professionally. That's why he jumps at the chance (provided by a former student) to audition for the Dorothea Williams Quartet (she's voiced by Angela Bassett). He sails through the audition and is told to get a "good" suit and be back at the club at 6:30.

Joe's heart is soaring. Which is probably why he falls through an open man-hole and dies. Well, not quite. But, when his awareness kicks in he's on the fabled staircase, if not to Heaven then to "The Light." This is one escalator he wants to jump off, and in so doing, finds himself somewhere not-so-fabled. It's not "the Great Beyond" he's informed, but "The Great Before," where souls go to be indoctrinated into their apparent personalities, and become mentored so they can achieve the little merit badges needed to go to Earth.

Joe, however, is not where he's supposed to be. He's not on his way to the After-life, he's in the Before-Life, which makes the After-Life hell for a counter named Terry (Rachel House, deliriously idiosyncratic, as always), who finds the count is off. Rather than write it off as "shrinkage" Terry begins an investigation, while "Before" counselors (all named "Jerry" and voiced by Alice Braga, Richard Ayoada, Fortune Feimster, Zenobia Shroff, and Wes Studi) cover his tracks by giving him a job as a "last-ditch" mentor to a troublesome soul.

How many souls have there been? Trillions? Well, this one's a problem and has been a long time. This soul's name is "22" (voiced by Tina Fey—"How come you sound like a middle-aged white lady?" Joe asks it. "I just use this voice because it annoys people," it replies) and she has had the Best and the Brightest of mentors throughout history.** All failed—even Mother Theresa ("I have compassion for every soul...Except you. I don't like you.") and 22 just does not want to take the next step to live, despite Joe's best efforts. That next step—it's more like a prat-fall—is when the two souls accidentally fall to Earth, while viewing Joe in the hospital, and get into the adventure trope of "switching psyche's"—walking in someone else's shoes.

If the "Great Before" were a TV show, we've already seen that...countless times. But, Soul makes it fresh, fast, funny, and the most entertaining part of the film. There is a lot of "concepting" going on, with talk of "The Great Before" and "The Zone" and "Lost Souls" and philosophical/psychological concepts dealt with in cartoon-graphic terms—"this whole place is a hypothetical..." 22 finally just admits—and sometimes, the grasping at ideas is a little thin. But, once it starts getting down to Earth, the film is much more on solid ground, comedically and spiritually.

And it's beautiful, especially when it's out of the pastel, cotton-candy landscapes of the "hypothetical," and back in Pixar's "Real World" (I've included a bunch of screen caps below ***) that take your breath away. Pixar's renderers always seem to advance the bar with every new film and here, the results are astounding; the film is full of pieces of art that you just want to frame, made even more incredible for the realism in their movement. 

One wants to say that it's a step-back. But it isn't. It's another well of imagination the overflows and inspires. 

Joe "in the zone"

* The very first joke of the movie is a terrible, amateurish version of "When You Wish Upon a Star" over the opening Disney logo. It's hilarious, off-putting (because you don't know what or why), and wonderfully tweaks their corporate overlords. I love Pixar...

** 

22's wall of past mentors--a couple of them are Pixar creators who have passed, and Jack Kirby's in there, too!

***  

The Shining

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"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy"

 

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* All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.