If one could put together a list of the truly
perfect screenplays ever written, this would have to be very near
the top. A phenomenal piece of writing. Particularly fine:
Nicholson's opening confrontation with Dunaway, his lunch with
Huston, and the first scene with the Lieutenant.
Nicholson's performance is marvellous; it
reminds me of how mannered his later work has become. Dunaway is
weaker, but then I have always preferred Dunaway as icy, angry,
and unreachable (The Three Musketeers, Network). Consequently, I
was enthralled with her opening scene and she became
progressively less interesting as the movie went on. Huston was
fine; it is probably a sign of how times have changed that I was
expecting him to be more.....idiosyncratic, maybe? in his
villainy. I was amazed at how good the lieutenant was, given that
I'd never heard of him before. I'm watching it again this evening
in part to assess his performance; see if I'm overstating it. But
he delivered those lines like he was born a cop.
I found myself noticing well-constructed shots
more than normal; I wonder why this is? It is possible that it's
because I knew I was watching this movie for a film fest (my
first time, in fact). It is also a fact that this is the only
Polanski movie I've ever seen, so it's quite possible I'm
reacting to his distinctive style.
A background note, of sorts: you can tell when
a movie about California graft is made by those who don't
understand, because they will make it about cars and freeways and
the plot to do away with public transportation. Anyone who *really*
knows what California politics are about goes for the jugular--water.
The geopolitics of California are split into Northern, Southern,
and Central and at the base of each bloc's interest is water--how
much and How Much. Californians never forget that we are only a
low rainy season or three away from each other's throats on the
subject. Ask anyone who lived here in 1975-78.
Some other notes on Chinatown:
On second viewing, several things occurred to
me that didn't hit me the first times I watched it. Pardon me for
stating the obvious, but I'm slow.
Mrs. Mulwray had *nothing* to do with the water
scam. Zip. Nada. Zilch. I had viewed her with a sarcastic lack of
sympathy--hey, honey, you play with the big boys, quitcher
whining. I thought she was using the fact that her father had
raped her as reason for her villainy (a la Jessica Rabbit: "I
can't help myself. I'm just drawn this way."). But when I
realized that she had nothing to do with it, that she was just
trying to save her daughter from a monster, Dunaway's performance
improves tremendously. Although I still like her best when she's
all icy command. But Mrs. Mulwray is a tragic heroine, and I can't
figure out how the hell I missed that the first times through.
Benear mentions that she lied--well, of course she did. Her
little private nightmare had nothing to do with the water scandal.
She had no reason to think Jake thought she did. She was just
trying to keep her daughter safe.
But here's the thing that confuses me, and I am
hereby resolved to review any number of private eye/noir films
again to see if this is unique--never before do I remember a noir
film in which the hero *caused* the tragic ending. It's not just
that he was helpless to prevent it, or that his mistakes
contributed. His mistakes *were* the driving factor. Mrs. Mulwray
did nothing wrong. The cops did nothing wrong. Cross, in fact,
did nothing particularly clever to outwit Gittes. Gittes didn't
contribute to Cross finding her, he led him to her. Not even out
of misunderstanding, but out of a craven need to save his own ass.
Gittes isn't a catalyst, he isn't a participant, he
singlehandedly causes the clusterfuck all by himself.
It just seems unusual. I mean, looked at this
way, it becomes clear that the brilliant depiction of the water
scandal is barely more than a diversion. I can't remember another
film noir in which the investigation was nothing more than a
McGuffin. It was irrelevant by the ending. Jake just brought tons
of trouble onto a woman who wasn't even involved; he continually
interfered, and when push came to shove he saved his own ass
rather than keep a young girl safe from a monster.
One thing I still haven't figured: Why *did*
Cross kill Mulwray? Which reason? To get to his daughter/grandaughter,
or because he'd discovered the scandal?
Anyway. I'm done ranting. It is an excellent
movie; what I'm realizing is that my preconceptions about
Chinatown--its standing in pop cultural history--completely
messed with my interpretation of the movie itself.
But the script just gets better and better on
each viewing. As does Escobar's performance--why haven't I heard
of him since?
One last note: while Huston played genial evil
quite well, I am not entirely convinced that his conversion to
shit-scary monster at the end was a believable extension of the
same character. I saw no connection between the two performances--although
viewed separately they are both equally brilliant.