The Great Northfield, Minnesota Raid(Philip Kaufman, 1972) Genre-busting western (following two years after the similarly revisionist Little Big Man) by Philip Kaufman back in his wild indie days about the splintering of the Younger-James Gang, due to their most notorious crime, the theft of Northfield's First National Bank, "the biggest bank west of the Mississippi." Starring Cliff Robertson and produced by Robertson's production company, the film was obviously massaged as a vehicle for Robertson, if not for the fact that Robert Duvall makes the most of the weirder, more psychotic role of Jesse James, cutting through his scenes like a murderously sharp scythe through prairie wheat. By comparison, Robertson has the more central, but goonier role of Cole Younger—distractedly visionary outlaw cursed with an eye toward "wonderments" and other bright objects that tended to throw him off-task.
The world is on the cusp of change—one of those "wonderments" is a steam-powered organ that proves to be both a blessing and a curse to the Younger-James Gang's ability to fight authority, rob banks, and line their pockets in the process. Jesse can't be bothered with "wonderments;" they get in the way of his "visions" for their exploits, which come upon him in nearly incomprehensible rants. Cole, however, always wonders how the outskirts of the Industrial Revolution can make their burgling business a little easier (he sports a brine-soaked leather vest to protect him from bullets).* Pretty soon, they'll move from banks to trains and the stakes will get that much higher. But for the moment, their targets are stationary, and their tactics not unknown to today's white-collar criminals.**
That it was also the beginning of the end for the gang, with Northfield's populace turning on the bandits during the course of the prolonged robbery, ending their "Robin Hood" reputations, and leaving a couple of the gang dead in the street, shot by civilians. The romance with the criminals would go on (so long as they were dead and not stealing town-folks' money anymore) in fictional pulps (and Cole Younger would survive and go on the lecture circuit...yes, really), but the West changed around them as so many of these "sunset" Westerns of the 70's were showing, making them legends...and you have to past your prime (or dead) to be that. Kaufman's take on it is intermittently fun, long on ideas, but short on entertainment.
* Jesse could be seen as the evangelical, and Cole the scientific , world-views. No wonder they broke up. Jesse died 2 1/2 weeks before Charles Darwin died. ** Before the raid, they prime the pump by encouraging stories of the bank's safety, driving up deposits to ensure they make away with a huge haul. They could work for Enron!
This was part of a series of reviews of the ASUW Film series back in the '70's. Except for some punctuation, I haven't changed anything from the way it was presented, giving the kid I was back in the '70's a bit of a break. Any stray thoughts and updates I've included with the inevitable asterisked post-scripts.
This Saturday's films in 130 Kane Are Marlon Brando's One-Eyed Jacks and Robert Altman's McCabe and Mrs. Miller.
One-Eyed Jacks(Marlon Brando, 1961)This one's something of an oddity--it's the only film directed by the greatest "method" actor, Marlon Brando. But what you will see on the screen is really not the film that Brando made. You see, it's one of those stories where nothing really works right. Brando and a number of script-writers worked on the screenplay for a couple of years. Stanley Kubrick was signed to direct and pulled out.* Then, Brando decided to direct it himself and shot a quarter of a million feet of film over a six month period at a cost of five million dollars. Supposedly, there was about 35 hours of film to edit down to a watchable size. Brando's cut was five hours long, but with some noticeable studio shooting, plot summaries were accomplished and got it down to its current two hours and twenty minutes. So it isn't totally Brando's concept.
What is there in those two hours and twenty minutes? A superbly acted film, based on a script that at times is intriguing and at times is dull cliche. It's a very weird movie. It's weird, but it does show that Brando certainly had an artistic eye for shots, camera angles, sequences that sometimes take the breath away. You'll also see excellent performances from a cast of Brando, Karl Malden (before TV neutered him),**Katy Jurado, Slim Pickens, Pina Pellicer, Elisha Cook, and Ben Johnson..especially Ben Johnson.
Johnson first worked for John Ford in his westerns and evolved into more than a great actor, but one of those genuine screen presences working in film today. When Johnson and another screen presence, Brando, play off each other in a scene, sparks fly across the screen. Those sparks were expected to fly between Brando and Jack Nicholson in The Missouri Breaks, and never appeared. To see these two greats square off is one of the joys I had watching this film, and also, this film contains my favorite epithet in all of cinema....
"Get up, you scum-suckin' pig!"
They just don't write 'em like they used to.
Broadcast on KCMU-FM on November 19th and 20th, 1975
Or over-write them. The parts that you can glean from the current cut of One Eyed Jacks (and no one is rushing to restore the full length version, certainly not Paramount Studios, although Criterion did do a restoration for Blu-Ray that was supervised by Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg) suggest an idiosyncratic western with a gritty, grimy feel, which would have made it unique in the western-glut that was happening across theater and television screens across America. Brando's fights were inelegant, and people looked like they got hurt. But the film is a cliche about Authority Figures and Oedipal Conflicts--Karl Malden plays a once-friend-turned-lawman named..."Dad." At one point, Brando's character is whipped in the street before a crowd of on-lookers, and if that doesn't convince you he's a Christ-figure, his tied, outstretched arms just might. Ulp! It starts to get so thick with things like that, you need hip-waders out in that desert.
* Kubrick says he quit because Brando was wasting a lot of time, and really wanted to direct it himself, so he moved on to a more worthwhile project.
Two Smart People(Jules Dassin, 1946) Jules Dassin's last job as a contract director for M-G-M (before tearing up the screen when he moved to B-movies at Universal) is a slight caper movie heavy on the relationship side of things; the tension comes not from the "will they pull it off" aspect so much as the "when does the betrayal happen" question. The screenplay is a collaboration between Ethel Hill (her last credit in a career that started in the silent era) and Leslie Charteris—who's most known for creating "The Saint." There are elements of that, but no halo's. It follows two con-artists—Ace Connors (John Hodiak—he starred in Hitchcock's Lifeboat) and Ricki Woodner (Lucille Ball) who meet at a swanky Beverly Hill hotel. Well, they don't so much as collide; "clash" might be the better term. Both have their sights on a mark (the easily befuddled Lloyd Corrigan—but he had a history of playing con-men, as well) Ace has some oil futures he wants to sell to him, but Ricki has enough smart patter—and a deflecting "master-work"—to lure the investor to her side. That is, until Ace exposes it for a forgery, thus making those oil deeds a bit more tempting.
Make of it what you will two cats fighting over a ball of yarn, or a larcenous tennis match, but it puts Ricki and Ace on the same wavelength—one that has a lot of static on the line, but a certain simpatico frequency. Plus, Ace has a reputation—the rumor that he has half a million dollars in stolen bonds squirreled away somewhere, a nice little dividend if she can get her hands on it. But, there's another reason to get close to Ace—she's being threatened by Ace's former partner "Fly" Feletti (Elisha Cook Jr. in full weasel mode), who has a grudge against Ace and wants the bonds, as well. Already, the relationships, as they say, are "complicated."
And just a little slippery. With this couple of swindlers, you need someone you can depend on, so in walks Detective Bob Simms (Lloyd Nolan) who has absolutely no con to play, but does have have a job to do involving Ace; Simms is the cop investigating the stolen bonds and has the duty of escorting him to Sing Sing as part of the con's plea-deal for turning over evidence against Feletti (but not the bonds, the existence of which Ace won't even acknowledge). Simms is a practical man. He likes Ace (he's not a murderer, after all) and when Ace suggests they take the slow-road to Sing-Sing to visit old haunts and indulge in the finest meals that they don't provide on the menu at The Gray Bar Hotel. Simms is a straight arrow, but practical. An extended train-trip sounds like fun and they're in no hurry.
Trouble is, trains are public transportation; anybody can buy a ticket. So, Ace and Bob are surprised to find that Ricki has come along for the ride (and unbeknownst to them, so has Feletti), which sets up a dynamic where everybody is looking for the bonds that Ace has stashed. He won't betray their location and everybody wants to betray him. What's a con-artist to do? Sit back and enjoy the ride and make the best of it.
Hodiak looks like he's enjoying himself, and Nolan is a trooper. But, Ball, who since denounced the film as "a dog," looks none too happy. Oh, she goes through the motions, but you sense that there's a lip-twisting "Ewwww..." forthcoming in every scene. She had every right to be a bit brittle about it. Like, Dassin, this was going to be her last film before being released from her contract with the prestigious M-G-M. Despite the elaborate costumes she sports throughout the film, there was nothing flattering about the pink slip she'd be getting at the end of it.
I wonder whatever became of her? Well, one of the key technicians on the film was ex-pat cinematography master Karl Freund, who had learned enough from the German Expressionist era to highlight her cheekbones and make her look luminous despite the disadvantage of black-and-white doing nothing for her flaming red hair. Lucy must have taken notice and been appreciative, though. When she and husband Desi Arnaz launched Desilu Productions with their first series idea "I Love Lucy," they hired Freund to apply his same talents behind the camera and enhance the audience-friendly "3-camera technique" that would become of staple of those shows "filmed before a live audience." Even career set-backs provide valuable lessons. Talk about "smart people."
The Great Northfield, Minnesota Raid (Philip Kaufman, 1972) Genre-busting western (following two years after the similarly revisionist Little Big Man) by Philip Kaufman back in his wild indie days about the splintering of the Younger-James Gang, due to their most notorious crime, the theft of Northfield's First National Bank, "the biggest bank west of the Mississippi." Starring Cliff Robertson and produced by Robertson's production company, the film was obviously massaged as a vehicle for Robertson, if not for the fact that Robert Duvall makes the most of the weirder, more psychotic role of Jesse James, cutting through his scenes like a murderously sharp scythe through prairie wheat. By comparison, Robertson has the more central, but goonier role of Cole Younger—distractedly visionary outlaw cursed with an eye toward "wonderments" and other bright objects that tended to throw him off-task.
