Film Review: The Connection (dir by Shirley Clarke)


1961’s The Connection opens with a title card and voice over from someone identifying himself as being J.J. Burden.  Burden explains that what we are about to see is the last known work of an aspiring documentarian named Jim Dunn.  Burden explains that, after he and Dunn filmed the footage that’s about to be shown, Dunn disappeared.  It was left to Burden to put the footage together and he swears that he has gone out of his way to stay true to Dunn’s intentions.

Of course, if you’ve watched enough old movies, you might recognize Burden’s resonate voice as belonging to the distinguished actor, Roscoe Lee Browne.  And, once the film starts, you may also notice that you’ve seen Jim Dunn in other movies.  That’s because Dunn is played by William Redfield, a character actor who specialized in playing professional types.

The Connection takes place in a New York loft.  A group of jazz musicians are waiting for their drug dealer.  Sometimes, they play music.  Sometimes, they look straight at the camera and answer questions about what it’s like to be a heroin addict.  While Burden always remains behind the camera, Jim Dunn occasionally steps in front of it and scolds the men for not being dramatic enough.  Dunn is attempting to stage reality.  Leach (Warren Finnerty), the most verbose of the addicts, taunts Dunn over never having done drugs himself.  Dunn jokingly says that maybe he could start with some marijuana.

This is no Waiting for Godot.  The dealer does eventually arrive.  His name is Cowboy and he’s slickly played by Carl Lee.  (Carl Lee was the son of Canada Lee, who appeared in Hitchcock’s Lifeboat.  Sadly, 25 years after filming his role in The Connection, Lee would die of a heroin overdose.)  He’s accompanied by a flamboyant woman named Sister Salvation (Barbara Winchester).  As Burden films, the musicians enter a small bathroom one-by-one, so that they can shoot up.  Music is played.  Overdoses are dealt with.  And Dunn, who was originally so detached, becomes more and more drawn into the junkie life style…

Was The Connection the first mockumentary?  To be honest, I’m really not sure but it definitely has to be one of the first.  The beginning title card (and Burden’s narration) feels like it could easily be used in front of any of the hundreds of found footage horror films that have been released over the last few years.  The film itself makes good use of the found footage format, though it’s also trapped by the genre’s limitations.  With all of the action taking place in just one room, there’s no way that The Connection can’t feel stagey.  (And, indeed, it was based on a play.)  Along with detailing the lives of those on the fringes of society, The Connection makes some good points about the staging of reality, though it never goes quite to the lunatic extremes of Ruggero Deodato’s Cannibal Holocaust.

(The Cannibal Holocaust comparison is not as crazy as it may sound.  Much as how the arrogant filmmakers in Deodato’s film attempted to exploit the cannibals, Jim Dunn attempts to exploit the addicts.  When the addicts and Cowboy start pressuring Dunn to try heroin, it’s not that much different from the cannibals eating the cameraman in Cannibal Holocaust.  The exploited are getting their revenge.)

The Connection was the first dramatic film to be directed by documentarian Shirley Clarke and, like many of Clarke’s films, it struggled to find an audience.  (Both the film and Clarke would have to wait several decades before getting the recognition that they deserved.)  The subject matter was considered to be so sordid (and the language so shocking) that the film was originally banned in New York.  The filmmakers actually had to file a lawsuit to get the film released.  The New York State Court of Appeals ruled the film was “vulgar but not obscene.”

Seen today, the film seems to be neither vulgar nor obscene.  Instead, it seems like a time capsule of the era in which it was made.  We tend to think of the early 60s as a time of beach movies, drive-ins, early rock and roll, and Kennedy optimism.  The Connection reveals that there was a lot more going on than just that.

Embracing The Melodrama #22: The Incident (dir by Larry Peerce)


The Incident

The 1967 film The Incident could just as easily have been called Train of Fools.  Much like Ship of Fools, it’s an ensemble piece in which a group of people — all of whom represent different aspect of modern society — find themselves trapped in their chosen mode of transportation and forced to deal with intrusions from the outside world.

That intrusion comes in the form of two sociopaths who have decided to spend the entire ride tormenting their fellow passengers.  The more dominant of the two is Joe (played by Tony Musante, who would later star in Dario Argento’s Bird With The Crystal Plumage), who the film hints might also be a pedophile.  His partner is Artie (Martin Sheen), who is less intelligent than Joe but just as viscous.  (And yes,even though he does a good job in the role,  it is odd to see an intelligent and reportedly very nice actor like Martin Sheen playing a character who is both so evil and so stupid.)

Among the passengers:

Bill (Ed McMahon) and Helen (Diana Van Der Vills) are only on the train because Bill refused to pay the extra money to take a taxi back home. Now, they’re stuck on the train with their young daughter who, in one of the film’s more disturbing scenes, Joe starts to show an interest in.

Teenage Alice (Donna Mills) is on a date with the far more sexually experienced Tony (Victor Arnold).  When Joe and Artie start to harass her, her date proves himself to be pretty much useless.

Douglas McCann (Gary Merrill) is a recovering alcoholic who, before Artie and Joe got on the train, was spending most of his time scornfully watching Kenneth (Robert Otis), a gay man who previously attempted to pick Doug up at the train station and who will eventually fall victim to one of Artie’s crueler jokes.

Muriel Purvis (Jan Sterling) resents her meek husband, Harry (Mike Kellin) and see the entire incident as another excuse to cast doubts upon his manhood.

Sam and Bertha Beckerman (played by Jack Gilford and Thelma Ritter) are an elderly Jewish couple who, over the course of a lifetime, have already had to deal with far too many bullies.  Sam’s attempt to stand up to Joe and Artie results in both he and his wife being trapped on the train.

Arnold (Brock Peters) and Joan (Ruby Dee) are the only black people on the train.  Arnold, at first, enjoys watching the white people fight among each other and even turns down a chance to get off the train because he finds it to be so entertaining.  But finally, Joe turns on him as well.

And then there’s the two soldiers, streetwise Phil (Robert Bannard) and his best friend, Felix (Beau Bridges).  Felix speaks with a soft Southern accent and has a broken arm.

And finally, there’s the bum.  When we first see the bum (Henry Proach) he is asleep.  He doesn’t even wake up when Joe and Artie attempt to set him on fire.

One-by-one, Joe and Artie attack and humiliate every single person on the train.  The other passengers, for the most part, remain passive.  Even when some try to stand up to Joe and Artie, their fellow passengers don’t offer to help.  It’s only when one last passenger finally stands up to the two that the rest of them show any reaction at all and even then, it’s not necessarily the reaction that anyone was hoping for.

The Incident, which shows up on TCM occasionally, is a heavy-handed but effective look at what happens when good people choose to do nothing in the face of evil.  Joe and Artie can be viewed as stand-ins for any number of distasteful groups or ideologies and both Tony Musante and Martin Sheen are believable as dangerous (if occasionally moronic) petty criminals.  For that matter, the entire film is well-acted with the entire cast managing to bring life to characters that, in lesser hands, could have come across as being one-dimensional.  The entire film basically takes place in that one subway car but fortunately, the harsh black-and-white cinematography and the continually roaming camera all come together to keep things visually interesting.

The Incident may not be a great film (it’s occasionally bit too stagey and, after watching the first 30 minutes, you’ll be able to guess how the movie is going to end) but it’s still one to keep an eye out for.

Martin Sheen in The Incident