Showing posts with label prison movie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prison movie. Show all posts

24.5.13

Maybe You'd Be Better Off If They Caught You: Lonely Are The Brave (1962)

It was not long before the inception of my entire month of westerns that I was made aware of Lonely Are The Brave, which was sold to me as being about "a cowboy trying to live in the modern world," and when I inquired whether or not it was in the same vein as Midnight Cowboy I was told that it was not a urban flick that just happened to have a guy wearing cowboy clothing, but was indeed a western that just happened to exist in the space of modern America.  It is quite coincidental on my viewing order, but terribly pertinent that Lonely Are The Brave was released in the same year as How The West Was Won, because one could make a very grounded argument as to why the former does everything in its power to reject the sort of idyllic, historical longing for the past whereas the latter, while maintaining an equal degree of cinematic scope completely dismisses and literally destroys the possibility.  Directed by David Miller, Lonely Are The Brave is a vision to behold, with its fantastic use of black and white cinematography every image constructed by Philip H. Lathrob could stand as its own singular lesson in frame composition, only made the more captivating by the jagged and chiseled figure that is Kirk Douglas.  Every person involved in this film is clearly going at it with a level of commitment and compassion that is seemingly lost, much like the figure of this narrative, in a milieu of indifference and half-assed attempts to get through whatever task they are faced with.  Despite it breaking out of one of the rather obvious constraints of the genre, Lonely Are The Brave is very much a film that adheres to Western traditionalism where a man's word is his life and the value of a horse is often higher than that of a human life, it is inconceivable to me how this film has not managed to attain a higher cultural status and be placed with the likes of its contemporaries, although it does at its very core defy a genre categorization and much like Charles Laughton's single work masterpiece Night of the Hunter spent a great length of time in obscurity only to reemerge as a one of the most important achievements in the history of cinema.  Lonely Are The Brave has that degree of power and possibility, if only it can continue to be pushed outward from the throughs of the forgotten.


Lonely Are The Brave focuses on Jack Burns (Kirk Douglass) a wandering and roaming work-for-hire ranch hand whose living off the land and travelling by horse is proving from the get go to be incongruous with modern life, evidenced by an early scene when he and his horse, Whiskey, are almost side-swiped by an oncoming car when they unsuccessfully attempt to cross the road.  It is revealed that the only reason Burns has ventured into the modern world is to visit his a friend's wife named Jerry (Gena Rowlands) as well as her son, who is at school upon his arrival.  It is while he is there that Jerry informs Burns that her husband, and his friend, Paul (Michael Kane) has been arrested for aiding illegal immigrants crossing the border, leading to a diatribe on Burns part about the absurdity of blocking people from free movement in every sense.  It is at that point that Burns vows to break into jail in order to help Paul break out a task he undertakes by going to the local bar and hoping to get booked for being drunk, however, after being forced to fight a one-armed man Burns is booked for drunken disorderly conduct, yet his apologetic ways lead the officer on duty to suggest he get a free pass.  Burns knowing that he needs to get into the jail proceeds to attack the officers until he is finally thrown in jail, where he finds Paul, as well as a particularly oppressive guard named Gutierrez (George Kennedy).  After a bout with Gutierrez, Burn and Paul, as well as other inmates proceed to file down a bar and break out, although in the last moments Paul decides to remain jailed, and ride out his sentence, as opposed to forever being a vigilante.  Frustrated, Burns still leaves and after meeting up with Jerry to confess his love takes to the hills to flee to Mexico, which leads to a pursuit by the wily and wit-filled Sheriff Johnson (Walter Matthau) who takes great pride in creating a unstoppable tracking force including cars and helicopters.  Burns, however, continually proves an evasive subject, even using his skills to shoot the helicopter out of the sky and trick Gutierrez with a distraction while he sneaks up behind him and knocks him unconscious.  In the end, after nearly being caught, Burns escapes into the woods and is close to the Mexican border and freedom, only needing to cross a road to make it there, yet this task proves his downfall as an oncoming truck knocks both him and Whiskey off the road.


Lonely Are The Brave by some sort of tribal magic manages to be both incredibly Western as well as decidedly anti-western.  Much of this is directly a result of the figure of Burns who viewers are quickly drawn to with his sort of endearing idealism and defined presence.  He is a figure who would win out in the most intense of classic western shootouts and would have, aside from his jail breaking actions, proved to be an excellent marshall.  Viewers assume this for that small moment when he is in the natural world and void of any threat to modernity.  The moment he steps into a world with technology however, he becomes a foolish figure, one whose idealism is deemed ignorant and misguided, especially his foolish belief that he can break a friend out of prison with little concern for its underlying problem's to both his and his friend's futures.  Similarly, he is foolish enough to assume that some code of gentleman's honor still exists that allows for him to simply ask the instigating one-armed man to stop pestering him and all will be fine, or in the same scene that since he has agreed to fight the man that he should do so with only one hand to assure it is a fair encounter, never mind, that he was not the person who started the bout.  This also emerges in the way he deals with his fleeing to Mexico, which is where the image of Burns becomes convoluted, because on one hand it is worth praising his expertise and ability to move about rocky landscape without little hesitation, even taking an expensive and impending helicopter out of the sky with a set of well place rifle shots.  In a traditional western, or a contemporary action film these acts would be praised as skillful and indicative of adept individual, although figures like this, mostly in an espionage sense, aim to kill.  This is where it becomes anti-western to a degree, because when Burns is given a clear opportunity to end the life of Gutierrez who has already been established as a threat to Burns's life and well beign, he choses to afford him a chance to live partially because of his begging to survive, as well as Burns knowing it would be against an unspoken set of rules to shoot a man from behind the back.  As it stands Lonely Are The Brave depicts the absurdity of attempting to exist between two spaces, while also reminding viewers that a person attempting to live in a liminal median will eventually meet their demise, in some cases by a literal oncoming truck.

Key Scene:  I was a sucker for the closing shot...it was a good one and made me wonder if Lonely Are The Brave was not essentially the same thing for westerns as Chinatown was for the film noir genre.

This DVD looks fantastic and is a reasonable price.  Trust me when I say grab a copy, it is worth viewing and sharing with friends.

17.9.11

I See, You Too, Are An Innocent Man: Down By Law (1986)

The films of Jim Jarmusch have an unwavering hipness that is often borrowed, but never successfully recreated.  In sorts, Jarmusch is the Tarantino of independent filmmaking.  His 1986 masterpiece Down By Law certainly has all the cool wry wit of his other films, along with a smooth soundtrack and some very impressive acting on the part of the enigmatic Tom Waits.  Down By Law is a film that is colorful, despite being filmed in black and white and complex, despite centering around a small cast of characters, and beautiful despite being set in the most desolate portions of New Orleans.  It also presents a diverse set of characters whose lives intersect inexplicably and tangentially, yet seem almost preordained or something far more meaningful than coincidence.  Down By Law is for lovers of cinema, and is a staple in the canon of independent filmmaking as it relates to the United States.

The plot is surprisingly coherent for a Jarmusch film, perhaps being accredited to it following only three characters, whose narratives intertwine in a New Orleans jail.  The first being the broken down radio DJ Zack (Tom Waits) whose recent drunken stupor lands him in jail, after unknowingly agreeing to transport a dead body.  The second is Jack (John Lurie), a pimp who is tricked by a rival conman into approaching an underage girl about prostitution and finally Roberto “Bob,” played masterfully by director Roberto Benigni, an Italian immigrant whose miscommunication during a poker game leads to his accidental murder of an opponent.  The three men appear indifferent to one another as the story unfolds, each seeing their imprisonment as unjust and resenting all things related to the prison, including one another.  However, after bonding over a riotous moment, inspired by Bob’s lack of English, the men begin to trust one another and Bob hatches an escape plan.  The group escapes from the prison with relative ease only to discover the treacherous nature of Louisiana swampland far more formidable than prison.  The group eventually finds shelter in a boathouse that is eerily similar to their prison cell, only to venture out in a faulty boat that quickly sinks.  Luckily for the trio, they stumble upon a road that leads them to a coffee shop.  Zack and Jack realize the perils of walking into a public place still donning prison garb and send the culturally oblivious Bob into the place as a sacrifice.  Bob, however, fails to return after many hours.   In a moment of confusion Zack and Jack approach the house to see Bob being treated to the hospitality of an Italian woman, leading them to quickly enter the house and join the fun.  The group is treated as though they are any other guest by Nicoletta (Nicoletta Braschi), given that she fails to realize their uniforms significance.  After a night of drinks and conversation the three split ways, Bob decides to stay with Nicoletta, while Zack and Jack leave at a crossroad, only offering words of sarcasm as they diverge.  The plot thus ending in simplicity, a sentimental film for Jarmusch that is as simple in its narrative as it is profound.

The brilliance of Down By Law is its study of imprisonment, particularly as it relates to its metaphoric sense.  Each of the trio is imprisoned by something and it takes the happenchance encounter and subsequent literal escape from prison to help them free themselves figuratively.  For Jack it is a matter of freeing himself from apathy, particularly as it relates to his belief that he could be better than a pimp, but has not been given a fresh start to change this action.  By breaking from prison and reemerging into civilization, Jack is able to recreate his image, free of a problematic and undesirable past.  For Zack his troubles stem from his own self-loathing and inability to ask others for help.  His standoffish ways are broken as he is forced to perform his DJ routine face-to-face with Jack, as well as save Bob who is almost captured do to his fear of swimming.  Ultimately, Zack finds freedom in his wit and recognition that his own happiness exists partially from accepting that those around him can be happy as well.  Finally, Bob is imprisoned by language, a barrier that seems impossible to transcend throughout the film.   It is not until he is able to accept his Italian ways in the face of death that he is freed, this acceptance of his difference is validated by meeting Nicoletta who shares his identity, thus freeing him from loneliness.  Each character ends the film in solitude, but in this instance, it is void of self-imprisonment.

Buy this film.  Jim Jarmusch has an excellent relationship with Criterion and it is reflected in the dvd supplements.  A copy is necessary, share it with your friends, or anyone you remotely care about.