Film Review: Dead Man’s Wire (dir by Gus Van Sant)


Before I say anything else about Gus Van Sant’s new film, I feel that I should make something clear.

I am a huge Al Pacino fan.  My love for the Godfather films (even the third one!) should be obvious to anyone who regularly reads this site.  I love the majority of Pacino’s work, even the roles that occurred after he started bellowing all of his lines.  I think his cop in Heat is one of the most entertaining characters to ever appear in a crime film.  I loved his performance as Jimmy Hoffa in The Irishman.  I enjoyed the humor that he brought to his role in Once Upon A Time In Hollywood.  I will always be happy to defend Al Pacino.

So, it gives me no pleasure to say that Al Pacino gives one of his worst performances in this film.  He plays M.L. Hall, the owner of Meridian Mortgage Company in Indianapolis, Indiana.  Pacino only appears in three brief scenes.  Wearing a ridiculous wig, he delivers his lines in one of the worst Southern accents that I’ve ever heard.  Playing a businessman who is so heartless that he won’t even negotiate with the man who is holding his son hostage, Pacino gives a performance that isn’t even entertaining enough to be considered cartoonish.  It’s the type of performance that one might expect from the villain-of-the-week on a particularly heavy-handed episode of Law & Order.  It’s not the type of performance that you would expect from Al Pacino.

Fortunately, despite all of that, Dead Man’s Wire is still a fairly compelling film.

Based on a true story, Dead Man’s Wire stars Bill Skarsgard as Tony Kiritsis, a real estate developer in 1970s Indianapolis who feels that Meridian Mortgage Company has cheated him out of the money that he hoped to earn through some land he developed.  Because M.L. Hall is on vacation in Florida, Tony takes M.L. son, Richard (Dacre Montgomery), hostage.  Tony wires a shotgun to Richard’s neck so that any sudden movement by either one of them will lead to Richard getting his head blown off.  Tony announced that he’ll only release Richard in return for immunity and an apology from M.L. Hall.

For three days, the city of Indianapolis watches as the situation plays out.  Detective Michael Gable (Cary Elwes) tries to negotiate with Tony but Tony is only willing to talk to the DJ (Colman Domingo) at his favorite radio station.  Meanwhile, Tony picks up some support from other people who feel that they’ve been screwed over by the M.L. Halls of the world.

Indeed, while watching this movie, it was hard not to think about the creepy cult that has sprung up around Luigi Mangione.  Of course, being a blue collar guy who appears to have simply been pushed past his breaking point, Tony is a much more compelling figure than a phony intellectual like Luigi.  That said, director Gus Van Sant is more interested in Tony as an outsider on the fringes of polite society than as a political symbol.  Skarsgard plays Tony as a man who can go from being friendly to enraged in a matter of seconds and he’s actually quite frightening in the role.  Meanwhile, Dacre Montgomery makes Richard into a rather sympathetic character.  Even if you don’t agree with the actions of his father, it’s hard not to respect the way that Richard handles the situation.  Watching this film, one gets the feeling that the unstable Tony thinks that he and Richard are developing a common ground but in reality, there’s no way that anyone could expect Richard to sympathize with a man who held him hostage for three days.  The film respects the characters and the actors too much for that type of false sentimentality.

Towards the end of the film, there’s a rather odd moment where breaking news about the hostage situation interrupts John Wayne presenting the award for Best Picture at the Oscars.  In reality, the 1977 Academy Awards were held a month after the hostage situation had been resolved and the ceremony seen in Dead Man’s Wire was held in 1979.  (Wayne presented the Oscar just a few months before his own death from cancer.)  It’s  classic Van Sant move in that it seems like it should mean something but, in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t.  Van Sant is one of those directors who has been around long enough and who has made enough interesting films that he can get away with something like that.

Dead Man’s Wire is Van Sant’s first film in seven years and his best film since Elephant.  It’s flawed but always watchable and it has a sense of humor and enough odd but memorable details to balance out the film’s angrier moments.  There are a few moments where the film falls into the trendy and intellectually shallow anti-capitalism that is all the rage nowadays but, for the most part, this is a compelling recreation of a true story and a character study of two men who will be forever linked.

Scenes That I Love: Al Pacino In The Godfather


Since today is Al Pacino’s birthday, it only seems right to share a classic scene from The Godfather.

In the scene below, which is perfectly directed by Francis Ford Coppola, Michael proves that he truly is a Corleone.  Am I the only one who yelled, “Don’t forget to drop the gun!,” the first time that I saw this scene?

6 Shots From 6 Films: Special Al Pacino Edition


4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films is just what it says it is, 4 (or more) shots from 4 (or more) of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films lets the visuals do the talking.

It’s Al Pacino’s birthday!

In others words, it’s time for….

6 Shots From 6 Al Pacino Films

The Godfather (1972, dir by Francis Ford Coppola, DP: Gordon Willis)

Dog Day Afternoon (1975, dir by Sidney Lumet, DP: Victor J. Kemper)

Scarface (1983, dir by Brian DePalma, DP: John A. Alonzo)

Heat (1995, dir by Michael Mann, DP: Dante Spinotti)

The Devil’s Advocate (1997, dir by Taylor Hackford, DP: Andrzej Bartkowiak)

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019, dir by Quentin Tarantino, DP: Robert Richardson)

 

 

Scenes That I Love: Diane Keaton and Al Pacino in The Godfather


Today would have been Diane Keaton’s 80th birthday.

In today’s scene that I love, from 1972’s The Godfather, Keaton plays Kay Adams Corleone, the wife of Michael (Al Pacino).  In this scene, Michael has “allowed” Kay to ask him about the family business.  She asks him if he had his brother-in-law, Carlo, killed.  Michael says, “No.”  Kay is relieved …. until she steps out into the hallway and realizes, as the door is shut in her face, that her husband just lied to her.

This is a beautifully acted scene and one of the most powerful endings in film history.

Scene That I Love: A New Year Begins In The Godfather Part II


Happy New Year!

Well, the clock has now struck midnight on the West Coast and that officially means that it is 2026 in the United States!  What better way to start things off than by sharing a scene that I love from one of the greatest and most important films of all time, 1974’s The Godfather Part II?

The scene below takes place on New Year’s Eve.  The scene starts in 1958 and it ends in 1959.  Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) and his brother Fredo (John Cazale) are in Havana at the invitation of Hyman Roth (Lee Strasberg).  Roth know that Cuba could be a gold mine for the American mob but Michael, from the start, realizes that the country’s corrupt government is on the verge of collapse and that it’s about to be replaced by something even worse.  (Admittedly, that’s my opinion.  Director Francis Ford Coppola had a much higher opinion of Castro and the communists than I did.)   Tragically, it’s also in Havana that Michael realizes that Fredo betrayed him to his enemies.  On December 31st, 1958, as the new year is celebrated in Havana, the rebels ride into the city.  While the President of Cuba prepares to announce that he will be fleeing the country, Michael confronts his brother and tells him that he knows the truth.  Later, as they both attempt to flee the country, Michael and Fredo see each other on the streets.  Fredo runs from Michael, refusing his offer to help.  Though Fredo would eventually return to the family, the film’s ending revealed Fredo’s first instinct was the correct one.

Here’s a scene that I love, featuring great work from both Al Pacino and the brilliant John Cazale:

Scenes I Love: Al Pacino and Diane Keaton in The Godfather


Today’s scene that I love comes from my favorite film of all time, 1972’s The Godfather

In this scene, Kay Adams (Diane Keaton) has moved on and is working as a teacher.  Suddenly, Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) shows up.  He’s been back from Sicily for a year and he’s working with his father.  Michael promises her that the Corleone family is getting out of the rackets.  We, of course, know that is never going to happen.

Film Review: …. And Justice For All (Dir by Norman Jewison)


First released in 1979, ….And Justice For All will always be remembered for one scene.

Yell it with me, “YOU’RE OUT OF ORDER!  THE WHOLE TRIAL IS OUT OF ORDER!  THEY’RE OUT OF ORDER!”

When attorney Arthur Kirkland (Al Pacino) starts screaming in the middle of the courtroom, it’s a cathartic moment.  We’ve spent nearly two hours watching as Arthur deals with one insane situation after another.  One of Arthur’s partners, Warren (Larry Bryggman), cares more about his car than actually delivering the right documents to a judge.  Another of Arthur’s partners, Jay (Jeffrey Tambor), has a nervous breakdown and, after shaving his head, ends up throwing cafeteria plates at people in the courthouse.  Arthur has three clients, one of whom is indigent, one of whom is innocent, and one of whom is a wealthy and despised judge (John Forsythe) who has been accused of a rape that Arthur suspects he committed.  The system offers no mercy for Arthur’s innocent (or, at the very least, harmless) clients while going out of it’s way to defend the judge.  Meanwhile, another judge (Jack Warden), is driven to take suicidal risks, like flying a helicopter until it runs out of fuel and comes down in a nearby harbor.  The assistant district attorney (Craig T. Nelson) only cares about his political ambitions and finally, after one incident after another, Arthur snaps.  And it’s cathartic because we’re all on the verge of snapping as well.

That final moment, with its signature Al Pacino rant, is such a strong and iconic scene that it’s easy to forget that the film itself is actually rather uneven.  The script, by Barry Levinson and Valerie Curtin, owes a good deal to the work of Paddy Chayefsky.  Just as Chayefsky often wrote about men being driven mad by institutional failure, ….And Justice For All features character after character snapping when faced with the screwed-up realities of the American justice system.  The final “out of order” speech is obviously meant to be this film’s version of Howard Beale’s “I’m as mad as Hell and I’m not going to take it!” speech from Network and, much like George C. Scott in the Chayefsky-written The Hospital, Arthur spends a lot of time talking about what he doesn’t like about his job.  The thing that sets ….And Justice For All apart from the best works of Chayefsky is that Levinson, Curtin, and director Norman Jewison all take Arthur Kirkland at his word while one gets the feeling that Chayefsky would have been a bit more willing to call out Arthur on his self-righteousness.  Arthur has every right to be angry when Warren forgets to give a judge an important document while Warren is substituting for him in court.  At the same time, Arthur is the one who trusted Warren to do it.  In the end, the document was not about one of Warren’s client.  In fact, Warren knew absolutely nothing about the case or Arthur’s client.  The document was about Arthur’s client and Arthur was the one who decided trust someone who had consistently shown himself to not be particularly detailed-orientated.  One gets the feeling that Chayefsky would not have let Arthur off the hook as easily as Levinson, Curtin, and Jewison do.  Arthur’s perpetual indignation can sometimes be a little hard to take.

It’s a very episodic film.  Arthur goes from one crisis to another and sometimes, you do have to wonder if Arthur has ever had any human or legal interactions that haven’t ended with someone either going insane or dying.  There’s no gradual build-up to the film’s insanity, it’s right there from the beginning.  And while this means the narrative often feels heavy-handed, it also makes that final speech all the more cathartic.  It’s an uneven film and, of all of the characters that Pacino played in the 70s, Arthur is probably the least interesting.  But that final rant makes up for a lot and, fortunately, Pacino was just the actor to make it memorable.  For all it’s flaws, the final few minutes of ….And Justice For All make the film unforgettable.

 

Days of Paranoia: Serpico (dir by Sidney Lumet)


In 1973’s Serpico, Al Pacino plays a cop who doesn’t look like a cop.

Indeed, that’s kind of the start of Frank Serpico’s problems.  He’s a New York cop who doesn’t fit the stereotype.  When we see him graduating from the Academy, he’s clean-shaven and wearing a standard patrolman uniform and he definitely looks like a new cop, someone who is young and enthusiastic and eager to keep the streets safe.  However, Serpico is an outsider at heart.  The rest of the cops have their homes in the suburbs, where they spend all of their time with their cop buddies and where they go also go out of their way not to actually live among the people that they police.  Serpico has an apartment in Greenwich Village and, as a plainclothes detective, he dresses like a civilian.  He has a beard.  He has long hair.  He has a succession of girlfriends who don’t have much in common with the stereotypical (and there’s that word again) cop’s wife.  Serpico is an outsider and he likes it that way.  In a world and a career that demands a certain amount of conformity, Frank Serpico is determined to do things his own way.

However, the real reason why Serpico is distrusted is because he refuses to take bribes.  While he’s willing to silently accompany his fellow officers while they collect their payoffs from not only the people that they’re supposed to be arresting but also from the storeowners that they’re meant to be protecting, Serpico refuses to take a cut.  Serpico understands that the small, everyday corruption is a way of forcing his silence.  The corruption may help the cops to bond as a unit but it also ensures that no one is going to talk.  Serpico’s refusal to take part makes him untrustworthy in the eyes of his fellow cops.

Serpico and Bob Blair (Tony Roberts), a politically-connected detective, both turn whistleblower but it turns out that getting people to listen to the truth is not as easy as Serpico thought it would be.  The Mayor’s office doesn’t want to deal with the political fallout of a police conspiracy.  Serpico finds himself growing more and more paranoid, perhaps with good reason.  When words gets out that Serpico has attempted to turn into a whistleblower, his fellow cops start to turn on him and, during a drug bust, Serpico finds himself deserted and in danger.

Serpico opens with its title character being rushed to the hospital after having been shot in the face.  This actually happened to the real Serpico as well.  What the film leaves out is that hundreds of New York cops showed up at the hospital, offering to donate blood during Serpico’s surgery.  That’s left out of the film, which at times can be more than a little heavy-handed in its portrayal of Serpico as an honest cop surrounded by nonstop corruption.  Filmed just three years after Serpico testified before New York’s Knapp Commission (which was the five-man panel assigned to investigate police corruption in the city), Serpico the movie can sometimes seem a bit too eager to idealize its title character.  (Vincent J. Cannato’s excellent look at the mayorship of John V. Lindsay, The Ungovernable City, presents far more nuanced look at the NYPD corruption scandals of the early 70s and Serpico’s role as a whistleblower.)  Director Sidney Lumet later expressed some dissatisfaction with the film and even made other films about police corruption — The Prince of the City, Q & A, Night Falls On Manhattan — that attempted to take a less heavy-handed approach to the subject.

That said, as a film, Serpico works as a thriller and as a portrait of a man who, because he refuses to compromise his ideals, finds himself isolated and paranoid.  Al Pacino, fresh from playing the tightly-controlled Michael Corleone in The Godfather, gives an intense, emotional, and charismatic performance as Serpico.  (One can see why the image of a bearded, hippie-ish Pacino was so popular in the 1970s.)  Sidney Lumet brings the streets of New York to vibrant and dangerous life and he surrounds Pacino with an excellent supporting cast, all of whom bring an authentic grit to their roles.  Serpico may not be a totally accurate piece of history but it is a good work of entertainment, one that works as a time capsule of New York in the 70s and as a portrait of bureaucratic corruption.  It’s also the film in which Al Pacino announced that he wasn’t just a good character actor.  He was also a movie star.

Brad’s Scene of Day – Al Pacino in SCENT OF A WOMAN (1992)


Al Pacino finally won his long overdue Oscar with his excellent performance as Lt. Colonel Frank Slade in SCENT OF A WOMAN. This scene where he’s “just getting warmed up” is a personal favorite and no doubt helped him bring home the gold.

Happy 85th Birthday, Mr. Pacino!