Monday, September 15, 2008

GREAT FILMS: The Conversation (1974)

GREAT FILMS: THE CONVERSATION (1974)
Written, Produced, and Directed by Francis Ford Coppola

Francis Ford Coppola made four films in the 1970's. Three of those films are The Godfather, The Godfather Part II, and Apocalypse Now. All three of those films are considered cinema classics, all showcased Coppola's talent for grand visual mastery, and all three made it on 2007's AFI 100 Greatest American Films list--and well-deserved. But that fourth film he made, between the two Godfather pictures, was also nominated for a Best Picture Academy Award, but it sometimes get lost in the cracks. That film is The Conversation; a film on the same level of all of Coppola's classics, but not nearly as admired.

Coppola has said many times that the film is in a way, a feature-length homage to Michelangelo Antonioni's Blow-Up. Both films are languid, intentionally-paced, and center around a character that finds more than meets the eye in his work. But where Blow-Up settles in its criticism of 1960's youth culture, The Conversation weaves a web of complex characterization and paranoia. Probably the most personal and subtle of all of Coppola's work, the film slowly uncoils its complex story piece by piece, until things are finally released that realize the worst nightmares of the main character.

That character is Harry Caul, played marvelously by Gene Hackman. Caul is known through various circles as the very best wire-tapper in the business. But he goes beyond that. He can record anything or anyone that he's asked, even if that person is in some of the most secure locations. The film opens with Caul recording a young couple that walks conspicuously around a park square, where they're sure the noise and the constant movement will make their conversation unheard. Using a complex arrangements of mics, and with the help of an arrangement of associates--including his partner, Stan, played by the late, great John Cazale--Caul is able to get every word they say nearly perfectly.

Harry works independently, for people who willing to pay the right price. He is the best in the business because he practices what he preaches. He is always the man in the shadows, even when he's off the clock. His pressing secrecy and insecurity cripple him in all aspects of life except for his work. He leaves a woman that he'd been seeing for a while after she begins "asking too many questions". He refuses to allow anybody, even Stan, access to his secrets in espianogue. He has built himself a force-field which pushes everyone out, leaving his only dedication to that of his complicated work.

The main plot point of the film begins when Harry attempts to give the tapes of the young couple's conversation to the man who was paying him to record them. The man is out of town, but his business associate named Martin (played by a young Harrison Ford), states that he can pick them up and give them to his boss first thing. Harry refuses to give away the tapes, unless it's to the man who paid for them, and leaves, smelling something fishy. He gives the tapes a closer listen, notices how desperate and concerned the young voices sound. He hears statements that draw red flags, and is plagued with worry that these tapes can be used to hurt someone.

Truth is, the film's greatness doesn't breed itself from its suspence story, though it is a competent, and effective one. This film, unlike Blow-Up, is brilliant because of the complex psychology of its main character. Hackman playing Harry Caul is one of the great performances of the 1970's. Hackman is an actor just as talented as Pacino, De Niro, or Hoffman, but other than winning two Oscars, he doesn't get the kind of respect those performers do in film society. Caul is quiet and contemplative, but always worried. He is pious, goes to Church and confesses regularly, but his faith seems to contradict his line of work, which is one of deceit and ominous voyeurism.

Two scenes in particular stand out in this film, when explaining Harry's character make-up. One being a scene directly after he refuses to give the tapes to Martin. He sits with his advanced audio equipment, listening to portions of this conversation over and over again, completely immersed. Meanwhile, Stan tries to intervene, asks him to grab lunch, and asking him details of the young couple. Harry yelps at him, explaining he does not want to be disturbed in his work. Another scene is later in the film, where Harry, slightly inebriated, talks to a beautiful woman, and attempts to explain his personality to her. He speaks in the third person, as if to distance himself from the truth of the matter, but its the closest this film goes in terms of having Harry open up his soul.

By the end of the film, Harry's life has been demolished--both figuratively and literally--by his unwavering paranoia. He failed at attempting to find the sketchy goings-on behind the tapes, and he sits alone. The film works on so many levels, both stylistically and thematically. Coppola, using long takes, and a smooth jazz piano score creates a brewing atmosphere. The film doesn't really build to its climax as much as it does wash over it like a wave on the rocks. It is the least known of Coppola's 1970's movies, but it can easily be called better than any film he made outside that decade. As a character study, it is equal to Taxi Driver, but the punch is a lot softer. Does Coppola borrow style points from Antonioni? He does indeed, but in the process accomplishes in making a film as beautiful as it is haunting.

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