Monday, February 25, 2013

The Parallax View (1974)



          Starring Warren Beatty as a reckless reporter who stumbles into a nefarious scheme involving political assassinations and governmental cover-ups, The Parallax View is the quintessential ’70s conspiracy thriller. With its heavily metaphorical images of people dwarfed by gigantic structures, its insidious musical score that jangles the nerves at key moments, and its sudden explosions of violence, director Alan J. Pakula’s arresting movie set the template for decades of imitators. More importantly, it set the template for Pakula’s next movie, the exquisite journalism drama All the President’s Men (1976). Working with the same cinematographer (Gordon Willis) and the same composer (Michael Small) he used on Parallax, Pakula sharpened his conspiracy-thriller style to absolute perfection while telling the story of how reporters uncovered the Watergate scandal. In sum, The Parallax View is required viewing for anyone who wants to understand ’70s cinema, even though the picture is far from perfect.
          Based on a novel by Loren Singer and written for the screen by the formidable trio of David Giler, Lorenzo Semple Jr., and Robert Towne, the movie begins with an assassination inside the Seattle Space Needle, then continues with a grim scene of a Warren Commission-type panel issuing a “lone gunman” explanation for the killing—even though we, the viewers, saw more than one person collaborating in the murder. The movie then cuts three years ahead. Seattle-based Joe Frady (Beatty) is an unorthodox reporter with a nose for conspiracies. His friend Lee Carter (Paula Prentiss), who witnessed the Space Needle assassination, is terrified because she believes witnesses are being systematically killed. Joe is skeptical until Lee herself dies under questionable circumstances. Then Joe asks his editor, Bill (Hume Cronyn), for permission to investigate. The doubtful editor says okay, but gives Joe a short leash. Soon, however, Joe uncovers clues leading him to the Parallax Corporation, which appears to be in the business of recruiting assassins. Obsessed with following a hot story, Joe endangers himself and everyone he knows by trying to infiltrate Parallax.
          From start to finish, The Parallax View is exciting and tense. Pakula and Willis shoot the picture masterfully, using creative foreground/background juxtapositions, deep shadows, and long lenses to evoke disturbing themes. The movie also employs an effective trope of portraying villains as even-tempered men in suits, rather than hysterical monsters, and the notion of business-as-usual murder is chilling. The acting is uniformly great, with Cronyn a dryly funny standout among the supporting cast and Beatty putting the self-possessed diffidence of his unique screen persona to good use.
          All that said, the story hits a few speed bumps along the way. An extended sequence in a small town called Salmontail includes scenes one might expect to find in a Burt Reynolds romp, from a bar brawl to a comedic car chase, and some stretches of the movie are so subtle they’re actually difficult to parse. The finale, in particular, is clever but needlessly convoluted and sluggish. Throughout its running time, the movie waffles between taking itself too seriously and not taking itself seriously enough. Yet all is forgiven whenever The Parallax View hits the conspiracy-thriller sweet spot. For instance, consider this exquisite dialogue exchange between Brady and ex-spy Will Turner (Kenneth Mars). Turner: “What do you know?” Brady: “I don’t know what I know.” That’s the stuff.

The Parallax View: GROOVY

6 comments:

Ivan said...

PH: I'll admit to being a big fan of the film, so perhaps I'm more forgiving, but I think the "Burt Reynolds" parts of TPV are Pakula's way of messing with expectations: we see Beatty's Joe dealing capably with standard action movie tropes (bar fight; car chase; ease with gals; etc.), but in the end, well, he can't compete with Parallax. I'd like to think of it as Pakula's way of saying Capra-esque or John Wayne-style fantasies of "one man alone standing up for what's right" just won't cut it anymore.
But I also think the director needed to get all this bad craziness out of his head before he could concentrate on the darker (yet more hopeful) All The President's Men.
Thanks,
Ivan

scopophiliamovieblog.com said...

Ivan, you make some really great points and I agree with them. I am a big fan of this film as well. The scene on top of the Space Needle in Seattle is quite memorable and vivid.

Will Errickson said...

You neglected to note how awesome Beatty's hair is in its role.

By Peter Hanson said...

Ha! Yes, truly a heroic moment for WB's mane.

Andrew Curtis said...

Interesting comments, Ivan.

Have any of you read Semple's version - or maybe first draft - of the script? Entertaining, but nothing like the film. I don't know the novel at all, so I don't know how faithful it is, or which of the screenwriters did what, but the differences are huge. The only other example I can think of that comes close - and it doesn't come THAT close, because Cronenberg just cut out the nonsense and made it art; he didn't CHANGE it as such - is A History of Violence.

Unknown said...

The most arresting part of the film, IMO, was the short film Beatty is shown when he attempts to infiltrate the organization - made by Saul (Phase IV) Bass, it depicts a series of images - family, county, the enemy, the other, violence - to ascertain what his reactions will be. It is essentially a look inside the brain of a Lee Harvey Oswald or an Arthur Bremer and is chilling.