Some movies rely on the chemistry of their lead co-stars in order to engage their audience, hoping that the thrill of watching two sexy movie-stars romancing and eventually getting it on with each other will provide sufficient escapism to make the reality lurking outside seem a world away. It's difficult to think of a film as reliant on the raw sex appeal of its superstars than Norman Jewison's 1968 heist thriller The Thomas Crown Affair, and Steve McQueen, as the titular millionaire playboy, and Faye Dunaway, as the sultry insurance investigator hot on his tail, positively sizzle with chemistry. In fact, they are so gorgeous that they manage to turn a game of chess into a playful game of seduction. The duo have certainly given much better performances during their careers, but they have never looked so good.
This pretty much sums up The Thomas Crown Affair: a polished, colourful star vehicle with an unashamedly glossy veneer. At the very centre of the story is a bank heist gone right, masterminded by the rather smug Thomas Crown (McQueen) after he handpicks his crew without ever letting them see his face. The thieves escape with over 2 million dollars, and nobody, including the rather clueless Detective Eddy Malone (Paul Burke), has any idea who it was. Enter Vicki Anderson (Dunaway), a no-nonsense independent woman with a love of the finer things in life. She quickly figures out that Crown was behind it all, but remains puzzled at why a man with everything would want to steal money he doesn't need. Of course, it's all a game, and the couple start their own game of cat-and-mouse as they embark on a steam affair.
Taking inspiration from the Expo 67 film A Place to Stand, which greatly impressed McQueen, Jewison employs 'multi-dynamic image technique', splitting the screen into sections with each part showing a different viewpoint. It gives the film a unique style, especially during the opening heist, and when combined with 60s kitsch, everything is wonderful to look at. While the visuals still impress, the characters are somewhat dated. He's the rich, philandering charmer, and she is bowled over by his fast-living and expensive possessions. It makes it all the more difficult to warm to a character I would detest in real life, but McQueen has more than enough charisma to pull through. There are never any real stakes, but it's pretty fun while it lasts, just a little hollow at its centre. The Pierce Brosnan/Rene Russo remake from 1999 makes for a more satisfying ride.
There was once a time that paranoid thrillers such as Sydney Pollack's magnificent Three Days of the Condor would have seemed like the mad ramblings of an extreme lefty. The government were not made up of powerful men with our best interests at heart, but a bunch of powerful men plotting, scheming and murdering their way to further themselves or whatever organisation-within-an-organisation they were working for. After the Watergate scandal, such cynicism didn't seem so out-there. It inspired a wave of great films, some of the finest in American history, with director Sydney Pollack and actor Robert Redford very much at the forefront.
Here Redford plays Joseph Turner, a CIA bookworm tasked with reading everything - books, newspapers, magazines - in the search for hidden codes and revolutionary ideas, operating from a small office with a close assortment of colleagues. After he pops out for lunch one day, he returns to find all of his co-workers murdered, and is plunged into a world of deep paranoia. When he seeks protection from the 'Company', he is almost murdered as he meets the man he thinks is bringing him in. With no-one to turn to, he kidnaps an artist named Kathy (Faye Dunaway) at gunpoint and shacks up with her, gradually bringing her to his side as his situation becomes utterly desperate.
Turner, now lumped with the knowledge that he can trust nobody, is forced to re-evaluate everything he knows about how his employees operate. The CIA are summed up in the film by two characters - the seemingly emotionless killer Joubert (Max von Sydow) and slick-talking suit Higgins (Cliff Robertson). It's a terrifying thought to think that someone may be listening to every phone call or reporting your whereabouts, and that every time there's a knock at the door it may be the delivery man with a machine-gun. It is Joubert's chilling monologue towards the end of the film that really speaks volumes about the men Turner is fleeing from. Pollack's direction is tight and clinical, effortlessly building suspense through Redford's increasingly rugged performance. An exciting, intelligent thriller from the greatest period in American cinema.
American cinema in the 1970's revealed a more personal, "gritty", and quite often profoundly moving approach to film-making. This was in part due to the "changing of the guard" at the studios that began happening in the 1960's. The Moguls that had created the studio system, and also the golden age of cinema, were leaving, and the studios were being sold off to corporations that had no connection to the cinema industry. This led to a multi-million dollar industry being run by companies such as Coca-Cola; therefore, the studios were being run by people who did not know what makes money. Fantastically for the new film makers, this led to a certain amount of freedom, and produced some of the most challenging and interesting films. It seems to me that this all occurred simultaneously with some interesting social and political challenges in the real world.
In the media throughout the 1970's, there were many stories about political kidnappings (such as the well-known Patty Hearst kidnapping that had the world gripped through the bizarre change in the newspaper heiress and socialite who eventually became a member of the terrorist gang), and of course the biggest political story of the decade, the Watergate incident. This latter event highlighted the inconsistencies of political power, and (along with the JFK assassination in 1963) almost essentially created the conspiracy theory - and the modern political conspiracy was born, and is now a popular part of culture. So it seems incredible today that under this atmosphere of paranoia, and particularly with the corporate mergers of industries, that Network was made - a film that is mainly about a television network that is going through changes after a corporate merger/takeover.
"I'm mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take this anymore!" This is the mantra of Howard Beale (Peter Finch who won a posthumous best actor Oscar for this role), anchorman of the UBS Evening News, who at the start of the film, is told that due to poor ratings, he was to be fired. On his next broadcast, Beale announces that he will kill himself in a live broadcast next Tuesday. This of course creates a bit of a media sensation, and the interest in the anchorman extends, making the network executives take notice. This leads to the freedom for Beale to have a platform in which he berates the consumerist world, along with the machinations of the financial and media industries. Whilst the "downfall" of Beale's psychology seems to be the main event in this film, he is simply a protagonist that gets the narrative going. the main focus here is the relationship between news executive, Max Schumacher (William Holden) and the younger programming executive, Diana Christenson (Faye Dunaway). This relationship is essential to the narrative. This is where we discover that she will stop at nothing for the acquisition of ratings and therefore money, and that Max, whilst obviously enjoying his affair with the young woman, is fundamentally concerned with Beale's well-being.
This last point raises an interesting question about the nature of sanity. Whilst the money-men in the executive offices simply look at the ratings boost, and care less about the content, Max is worried that his friend is losing the plot. Of course this would be easy to say when we see Beale, soaking wet and dishevelled, ranting in a seemingly frantic manner. However, the fact that he is voicing opinions that were very popular at the time, shows that maybe he has in fact had enough of the machinations of the "system".
To say that the film is still relevant today is an understatement. In fact, much of what occurs in the film has become very much an everyday reality. So it could be argued that the film was an incredible piece of prescient cinema. Network has an amazing cast, and all performances are first rate - particularly Ned Beatty's small role, where he informs Beale of the future of industry which is stunningly shot also. Network should be celebrated in the same way that other films of the decade are, such as Taxi Driver (1976). It has utterly relevant social commentary, and rings as true today as it did 35 years ago - perhaps a depressing thought, highlighting that nothing has really changed, and that in fact, we are living in an unchanging civilisation that has only one obsession: Money.
This pretty much sums up The Thomas Crown Affair: a polished, colourful star vehicle with an unashamedly glossy veneer. At the very centre of the story is a bank heist gone right, masterminded by the rather smug Thomas Crown (McQueen) after he handpicks his crew without ever letting them see his face. The thieves escape with over 2 million dollars, and nobody, including the rather clueless Detective Eddy Malone (Paul Burke), has any idea who it was. Enter Vicki Anderson (Dunaway), a no-nonsense independent woman with a love of the finer things in life. She quickly figures out that Crown was behind it all, but remains puzzled at why a man with everything would want to steal money he doesn't need. Of course, it's all a game, and the couple start their own game of cat-and-mouse as they embark on a steam affair.
