October True Crime: Murder in Coweta County (dir by Gary Nelson)


In 1948, one of the richest men in Georgia committed a murder.

John Wallace was a landowner, back when that title actually meant something.  He was known as the boss of Meriweather County.  Everyone in the county seemed to work for Wallace in one way or another.  He controlled the county officials.  The sheriff enforced the law only as far as John Wallace would allow him.  The bootleggers had to pay Wallace for protection.  When one bootlegger, a sharecropper named Wilson Turner, failed to do so, he was fired and kicked off of Wallace’s land.

Turner retaliated by stealing two of Wallace’s cows.

Wallace responded by murdering Turner.

Because Turner attempted to flee and Wallace chased after him, Wallace committed the murder not in Meriweather County but in neighboring Coweta County.  What Wallace didn’t realize was that this meant the investigation didn’t fall under the jurisdiction of his hand-picked sheriff.  Instead, Sheriff Lamar Potts of Coweta County headed up the investigation.  John Wallace was eventually arrested by Sheriff Potts and he was eventually convicted of murdering Wilson Turner.  At the time, the case drew a lot of attention both because of Wallace’s wealth but also because two of the main witnesses for the prosecution were the two black men who Wallace forced to help him dispose of Wallace’s body.

It’s an interesting story, largely because the history of America is full of men like John Wallace, people who set up their own little dictatorships.  It’s often portrayed as being a Southern phenomena but John Wallace really wasn’t that much different from the crude political bosses who, for decades, dominated politics in city like New York and Chicago, the type who held onto power through a combination of intimidation and patronage.  In my home state of Texas, George Berham Parr inherited the political machine that controlled Duval and Jim Wells County.  Parr committed numerous crimes during his time as the “Duke of Duval” but he had important friends.  He was the one who “found” the votes necessary for Lyndon Johnson to win a senate seat in 1948.  (In return, Johnson got Harry Truman to pardon Parr for failing to pay his taxes.)  Parr is also suspected of having been involved in at least one murder but it wasn’t until LBJ himself retired from politics that anyone truly investigated Parr’s activities.  In 1974, he was again convicted of failing to pay his taxes and Parr was later found dead at his ranch.  Suicide was the official police ruling.

As for the story of John Wallace, it was turned into a made-for-TV movie in 1983.  Murder in Coweta County stars Andy Griffith as John Wallace and Johnny Cash as Sheriff Potts.  Griffith, playing a soulless villain, is chilling as John Wallace.  Wallace is all-smiles and good ol’ boy charisma whenever there’s a crowd around but, once it’s just him and his cronies, a different side comes out.  Wallace thinks that he can get away with murder because he’s been able to get away with everything else.  Sheriff Potts is determined to see that justice is done.  Murder in Coweta County is an atmospheric Southern crime story, one that is so full of atmosphere that you can feel the humidity.  While Johnny Cash was definitely a better singer than an actor, Andy Griffith’s villainous turn makes the film worth watching.

Silverado (1985, directed by Lawrence Kasdan)


In the old west, a cowboy named Emmet (Scott Glenn) teams up with a reformed outlaw named Paden (Kevin Kline) and they bust Emmet’s wild younger brother, Jake (Kevin Costner), out of jail.  After Mal (Danny Glover) helps the three of them escape from a posse, they all end up going to the town of Silverado, where all four of them have business.  Emmett and Jake want to protect their sister from the corrupt son (Ray Baker) of a cattle baron who was previously killed by Emmett.  Mal wants to save his sister Rae (Lynn Whitfield) from an evil gambler (Jeff Goldblum).  Paden discovers that Cobb (Brian Dennehy), his former partner-in-crime, is now the sheriff of Silverado and working for the cattle barons.  When Paden tries to protect the new settlers (including Rosanne Arquette), it leads to a confrontation with his former partner.

In the 80s, when he wasn’t directing films like The Big Chill and The Accidental Tourist, Lawrence Kasdan specialized in paying homage to the films of Hollywood’s golden age.  He started his directorial career with Body Heat, a modern film noir.  He worked on the screenplays of both Empire Strikes Back and Raiders of the Lost Ark.  With Silverado, Kasdan tried to resurrect the western.

Silverado is a traditional western with a few modern touches, like casting Jeff Goldblum as a gambler and John Cleese as the sheriff who wants to execute Kevin Costner.  Silverado also has more humor than a typical western, largely thanks to Kevin Kline.  Silverado starts out as a comedy before turning serious and grim once the four heroes finally reach Silverado.

Kasdan’s love of the genre is obvious in every frame of Silverado but, in trying to tell multiple stories at once, the movie spreads itself too thin.  I like that Kasdan tried to shake things up by casting actors who most people wouldn’t expect to see in a western but both Kevin Kline and Brian Dennehy seem miscast in their roles and their final confrontation never becomes the epic moment that it needs to be.  Scott Glenn and Kevin Costner are far more believable in their roles.  Danny Glover is also believable but his character is underused.

Silverado was obviously a labor of love for Kasdan and it shows that, if nothing else, Kasdan understood the appeal of the genre and the beauty of the wide open frontier.  The movie has its flaws but fans of westerns will appreciate his effort.

Film Review: The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (dir by Joseph Sargent)


Welcome to New York in the 1970s!  While the intellectuals flock to the latest Woody Allen movie and the wealthy throw radical chic parties in Manhattan and disturbed young men drive taxis at night and pray for a real flood to clear away all the vermin, most of the city’s citizens are just trying to make it through the day.  For many of them, that means spending an hour or two riding the subway.  In some ways, the subway is the great equalizer.  The minute that you sit down on a filthy train car, it doesn’t matter how old you are or how you vote or the color of your skin.  All that matter is finding a way to avoid making eye contact with anyone else.

Four men, all wearing obvious disguised, board the downtown Pelham 1-2-3 train.  They all look suspicious but, this being New York, no one wants to make eye contact.  Everyone just wants to reach their next stop.  The men — who are known as Mr. Blue (Robert Shaw), Mr. Green (Martin Balsam), Mr. Grey (Hector Elizondo), and Mr. Brown (Earl Hindman) — have other plans.  Revealing that they’re armed, they take the 18 passengers of the first car hostage.  Their leader, Mr. Blue, has a simple demand.  He wants a million dollars to be delivered to the car within an hour.  If the money’s late, he will kill one hostage every minute, until he receives what he wants.

While the cold-stricken mayor (Lee Wallace) tries to figure out how to 1) raise a million dollars and 2) handle the situation without losing any potential votes in his reelection campaign, Lt. Zach Garber (Walter Matthau) communicates with Mr. Blue via radio.  With Mr. Blue underground and Zach above ground, the two of them establish a cautious rapport.  Robert Shaw plays Blue as being efficient, polite, but ruthless while Walter Matthau plays Garber with his usual rumpled but intelligent style.  As embodied by Matthau, Garber is New York City in human form while Shaw is perfectly cast as the outsider who, for at least an hour or two, has managed to bring the city to its knees.

Even though the original The Taking of Pelham One Two Three is often described as being a Walter Matthau film or a Robert Shaw film, the film’s main character actually is the city of New York City.  The film portrays the city as being chaotic, angry, and unpredictable but, at the same time, also resilient and strong.  Yes, Garber may spend a lot of time bickering with his co-workers but, in the end, he and Lt. Rico Patrone (Jerry Stiller, another great New York figure) work together to do what has to be done to resolve the situation.  For all the time that’s spent on how Mr. Blue and his compatriots take that train hostage, just as much time is spent focusing on how the police, the politicians, and the Transit Authority react to what’s happened.  Not having any firsthand knowledge of the New York subway system (beyond being told not to use it when I was in NYC a few years ago), I can’t say whether or not the film is realistic but what’s important is that it feels realistic.  Even though the film is full of familiar character actors, it still seems as if you’re just watching a bunch of New Yorkers having a very long day.  Though guns are fired and there is a runway train, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three takes a refreshingly low-key approach to its story.  There’s no huge action set pieces.  The film’s classic final shot hinges not on Garber’s marksmanship but instead on his ability to remember the small details.

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three is one of my favorite heist movies.  It’s well-acted.  It’s got an interesting plot.  It’s got a few moments of unexpected humor.  Robert Shaw is a great (and, at times, almost compelling) villain while Walter Matthau and Jerry Stiller make for a great detective team.  The great Martin Balsam also turns in a wonderful turn and, even though he’s playing a bad guy, it’s hard not to sympathize him.  You need only see his apartment to understand why exactly he felt the city of New York owed him more than it had given him.  Best of all, The Taking of Pelham One Two Tree is a tribute to a great American city.  The Taking of Pelham One Two Three celebrates New York City in all of its rude, messy, and brilliant glory.

Shattered Politics #34: The Parallax View (dir by Alan J. Pakula)


Parallax_View_movie_poster

Judging from the films that the decade produced, the 1970s were truly a paranoid time.  (Of course, 2015 is a paranoid time as well, which is probably why so many of the classic films of the 70s still feel incredibly relevant.)  Some weekend, you should watch a marathon of 1970s films and I guarantee that, by the time Monday rolls around, you will be looking for lurkers in every shadow and automatically distrusting any and all authority figures.  The 1970s were a good time to be paranoid.

And it’s really not surprising at all.  The previous decade was a time of turmoil and upheavel, a time when some people feared protestors and some people feared the establishment but, ultimately, everyone was afraid of someone.  When you think of the 1960s, you think about all the leaders who were violently assassinated — John F. Kennedy, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Robert F. Kennedy, and more.  (And that’s just in America!)  And then the 70s came along, with Watergate and the revelations about the CIA partnering up with the Mafia to try to kill Fidel Castro.

The 70s were a good time to be paranoid and the films of the 70s reflected that fact.

Take for instance, 1974’s The Parallax View.  The Parallax View opens and ends with assassination.  In both cases, the victims are U.S. politicians who are running for President and whose ambitions have caused concern for the shadowy and rarely seen leaders of the established order.  In both cases, the official story is that the assassin was a lone gunman, a nut with a gun and absolutely no political or religious motivations.  Of course, both accused assassins were apparently involved with the shadowy Parallax Corporation and, over the course of the film, anyone who knows anything about Parallax ends up dying.  Reporter Joe Frady (Warren Beatty) goes undercover to investigate the group but, as he does so, he grows increasingly paranoid and unstable, until finally  it’s easy to mistake him for any other paranoid madman, ranting in the street and, in many ways, indistinguishable from the accused assassins that he’s been investigating.  In many ways, Joe becomes like a character in a H.P. Lovecraft short story who, upon laying eyes on Cthulhu, is driven mad as punishment.

It’s a good film, one that’s enhanced by Gordon Willis’s trademark shadowy cinematography and the convincing desperation of Warren Beatty’s performance.  In the film’s best scene, Frady applies for a job with the Parallax Corporation.  As a part of his job interview, he’s taken a dark room and he’s told to watch a short film.  His reactions will help to determine what role he could possibly play at Parallax.

Needless to say, The Parallax View feels just as relevant today as it did when it was first released.  We still live in paranoid times and hints of conspiracy are still everywhere to be seen.  Perhaps the only thing that has changed is that, back in 1974, conspiracies could still take people be surprise.

Now, we just take them for granted.