Widening Horizons - Chinatown

Overlooked. Forgotten. Pot-a-to, pot-aa-to. Yes, it is often the fate of old films to be forgotten by the vast majority despite universal critical acclaim, awards, box office success, selection into the United States National Film Registry, being ranked second among mystery films by the American Film Institute, and above all, being used in film schools all around the world as an example of the ideal screenplay in the mystery genre.

I realised that this film was forgotten, even by film buffs, due to the recent addictive Facebook trend on the Indian Film Hub, i.e, #ExplainFilmPlotBadly. Unable to live with this, I vowed that my next entry would be about this Roman Polanski film that put the neo before noir by breaking so many rules of the genre and thereby reinventing it.

To use the word 'economical' for Robert Towne's screenplay would be to shortchange it. 'Rich' would be closer to the mark, as almost every scene in the film is completely saturated with details of a highly complex plot as well as necessary character exposition, all done without resorting to clichés of a genre that had been done to death in Hollywood.

The protagonist, J J Gittes (Jack Nicholson), is the quintessential classical noir anti-hero - a private detective with a dark past, quick with a snarky reply, and too clever for his own good. It could easily have been a character that was just a stereotype, but certain traits, such as his huge ego and meddlesome nature, along with a past that is very cleverly designed, make him the ideal protagonist for this story.

One of the most unique things about this film is that despite being a multi-layered mystery, it is actually driven by character and not plot. Gittes is a private detective, and not bound in any way to try to solve the mystery before him, but it is his pride and inquisitiveness that lead him headfirst into a web of lies, corruption, insatiable greed, and unspeakable evil that knows no bounds.

The second most important character of the film is Evelyn Mulwray (Faye Dunaway). Based on the femme fatale archetype, Evelyn's character is designed to serve as a catalyst of sorts, as it is the equation between her and Gittes that makes events unfold as they do. Gittes will not rest until he has discovered the truth, because his pride has been wounded, but Evelyn has a secret so dark that she cannot let him discover it.

Evelyn's internal conflict is that she wants Gittes to find her husband's killer, but not discover her secret. He is the only one who can help her, but she cannot bring herself to trust him completely. They're effectively joined at the hip, but Gittes' past and his nature do not allow him to trust her either, leading to a relationship that is almost certain to end in tragedy.

There is also the character of Evelyn's husband, Hollis Mulwray. Despite very little screen time, his character is crucial, not only because it lies at the centre of the plot, but also because of its thematic importance. From what we come to know of him, Mulwray shines like a beacon of light in a dark world and is extinguished, a reflection of the harsh truth that in the real world, good does not stand a chance against evil, a foreshadow of the story's tragic end.

That anyone who likes mystery films should watch Chinatown is a given, because it has one of the most exquisitely crafted, complex plots that one would ever see. There is hardly a scene that does not provide a clue that takes Gittes, and therefore us, one step closer to the truth. That is not all though, since a lot of these scenes also contain hints about the second layer of the mystery, subtly yet surely setting up one of the most shocking twists of all time.

This second layer, revealed in the twist at the end of the second act, is what makes Chinatown Chinatown. Countless noir films centre around single layered mysteries which have the entire focus of the viewer, and therefore do not have the potential to shake you to your core no matter how well they've been made. This is why the inclusion of the second layer in Chinatown is a stroke of pure genius, and if not for The Sixth Sense that came out a couple of decades later, it would've been remembered as the greatest twist in the history of cinema.

The twist is a linchpin that serves a myriad of purposes in the plot, only one of which is to leave the viewer flabbergasted. It adds an edge to three of the four key characters, providing almost unquestionable motives for their actions so that the plot never seems contrived, something that is almost impossible to achieve in this genre. To the film's antagonist it gives a dual motive, while to Evelyn it gives conflicting motives, making her one of the most well designed characters in the genre.

With the plot and characters in place, Towne and Polanski add a few innovative touches to make the film look more realistic. Be it nifty little detective tricks, or the bold move of having the protagonist's nose awkwardly bandaged for half the film (unheard of in those days, due to the egos of big stars fixated on projecting a certain image). The biggest innovation however, was to set most of the film in the day, as opposed to the night setting typical of classical noir.

One of Towne's greatest achievements in this film is designing a character tailor-made for Jack Nicholson, so that he does not have to act much. Faye Dunaway, on the other hand, deserves almost half the credit for making the film's twist work, because it is her fantastic performance that sets it up more than anything else. Truly, her performance is a masterclass in getting into the skin of an extremely conflicted character on which rests the success of the entire film.

Forty years after its release, Chinatown's screenplay is still regarded as one of the best in the history of cinema, and as close to flawless as they get. It holds up even under the most powerful of microscopes, and is one of those rare films that gets better and better under intense analysis. In an age where every story in every genre has been retold a hundred times, Chinatown still shows you something you haven't seen before, and this statement will probably be true for a long, long time.

Busting Perceptions - Argo

This week's piece is not about a film that garnered a militant following despite being riddled with logical flaws and having taken too many liberties. Winning Oscars and Golden Globes by the dozens, especially the big ones - picture, director, screenplay - makes for a different kind of overrated film. Enter Ben Affleck's third feature as director, and Hollywood's self-deprecating tribute to the CIA - Argo.

The film is adapted partly from CIA's celebrity operative Tony Mendez's memoir, The Master of Disguise. As Charlie Kaufman has already told us, adaptations are tricky little buggers, and the added pressure of converting a real-life account of a time and place that had the attention of the whole world does not make the job easier for Affleck and screenwriter Chris Terrio.

Having said that, I strongly believe that making films at that level should be like aerospace engineering - do it right or not at all. But the heavy politicisation of cinema in Hollywood means that the Slumdog Millionaires, Hurt Lockers, 12 Years A Slaves, and Argos will have awards and acclaim pelted at them, regardless of how poorly they've been made.

Okay, it may have been a little harsh to club Argo with that lot, because it is entertaining on the surface, but it is what lies beneath (and sometimes the lack thereof), that concerns me. More alarming is the irresponsibility shown towards historical events in the name of dramatic liberty, leading to the most serious crimes a film vying for Oscars can commit - jingoism and racism.

From the outset, Affleck and Terrio manipulate history to suit their narrative. The biased comic book style prologue fails to provide adequate context to the events portrayed in the film, and more importantly, minimises the U.S government's role in driving the people of Iran to revolution, because it would obviously not do for a two hour advertisement of the CIA to highlight, or even mention the agency's side gig as a destroyer of democracies.
 

Since we live in a time of extreme political correctness, Affleck and Terrio have chosen to insert token, unnecessary dialogue at some points to indicate that it was they, the U.S, who started the whole mess. It is not nearly enough, for a lot of this is masked by assertions of the kindness and loyalty of the U.S government towards the dying Shah, and of its humaneness and moral superiority in contrast to the savage third world.

Illustrations of this are seen within the first act itself, where a Marine at the embassy steps out to "reason" with an extremely violent crowd and gets treated savagely, only to show the rationalness of the Americans as opposed to the hot-headed Iranians, not to mention that at a time when they are supposed to be in extreme danger and terrified for their lives, 'the six' are more concerned about the Iranians applying for visas to the U.S than themselves.

The portrayal of the Iranian people in this film is deeply disturbing. On eight different occasions, we have imagery of Iranians that brings to mind one word - savage. Their depiction as an undifferentiated mass, full of ethnic stereotypes, is topped by the fact that they're shown to be shouting out whatever they have to say, without the audience having the benefit of subtitles, in all of these scenes.

Two of the best examples of this are seen towards the end of the film. Firstly, at the bazaar, the old man whose picture they take without permission is shown to be extremely aggressive towards them, even though they instantly return the photograph. Slowly, a small crowd builds up and the situation reaches a point of physical violence. What the old man is shouting is translated for us in a single, absurd line - his son was killed by the Shah with an American gun.

Even worse is the scene at the end, where the seven are detained by the revolutionary guard. The main guard talks in Farsi for a good two minutes, but there are no subtitles to tell us what he's saying. The instant one of the seven Americans begins to speak in Farsi, we have subtitles. Not only this, it is revealed at the end of the scene that the guard actually does speak English, because, as Tony Mendez had already mentioned to the six, most of the revolutionary guard were educated in the U.S and Europe.

The manipulation of history also extends, not only to minimising the contribution of the Canadian government in the exfiltration (which, in the words of Jimmy Carter, amounted to 90%), but adding insult to injury by showing that the extremely wise and selfless U.S government let the Canadians take the credit for the success of the operation. Furthermore, there is the blatant and completely unnecessary lie that the embassies of Britain and New Zealand refused shelter to the six refugees.

There are many, including Affleck, who raise the point of dramatic liberty. But take a second to think about the meaning of that term and it is clear that the liberties that are being taken are not adding to the drama, but are simply there to glorify the role of the CIA and make this a pro-U.S film. If anything, these liberties should have been taken to change the manner in which the plot progresses at many points and to add some flavour to the characters, for apart from being jingoistic and racist, the film is uninspired and full of clichés.

What that means, in a nutshell, is that everything in the film happens too easily. The obstacles in the path of the characters are not really challenging, as we not only know that they're going to be overcome almost instantly, but also know how because we've seen it happen a hundred times before. Take for example, the first time Mendez presents his idea for the exfiltration. There is resistance to it, but it is so token, that we know that all it will take to overcome is our man, Mendez, already established as 'CIA's best exfil guy', doing what he does best.

This phenomenon occurs repeatedly throughout the film. Be it the futile squabbling over whether or not to go to the bazaar for the 'location scout', and the clichéd way in which Mendez convinces Stafford and his wife to trust him (by telling them his real name), or the White House suddenly and randomly calling off the mission, only so that Mendez can show his commitment to it and Affleck and Terrio can find a point to end the second act by predictably defying the order.

The lack of conviction in the writing does not stop with the plot, but extends to the characters as well, as almost all of them are stereotypes, not archetypes. Whatever is revealed about them is merely given to the viewer as information through dialogue, rather than as an experience of any substance. Mendez is a CIA operative, the best at his job, but it is this job that has caused problems in his family. His relationship with his son is generic and non-descript, and does not strike a chord.

Similarly, we have John Chambers and Lester Siegel (John Goodman and Alan Arkin), disgruntled Hollywood professionals who mock their business at every unavailable opportunity. The six refugees, apart from talking to each other chaotically in several scenes that are clearly improvised, show inexplicable skepticism and resistance to the plan, even though it has been impressed upon them and the viewer that it is their only option.

At the end we have what is supposed to be an impressive character arc, when one of the six, Joe Stafford, the staunchest opponent of the plan, convinces the revolutionary guard of their authenticity by narrating the story of their film with some sound effects and voice modulation, as his companions, and even the Iranian soldiers, watch in amazement.

After the main plot is concluded, we obviously need to have Mendez, the CIA expert, to actually be told that he cannot bring his son to the ceremony in which he is to win his star because the mission is classified, so that the viewer can understand the sacrifices the heroes of the agency make for their country. Lastly, Mendez has to come back to his family where all is suddenly well, even though their problems have not been addressed at all, so that we can all witness the warm and fuzzy Hollywood ending where everything is wonderful again.

Why did this insipid and racist film receive the highest honour Hollywood provides? My guess - at a time when the faith of the American people in their government is at a low point, an advertisement for one of its most hated agencies, showing it to be made of operatives who are human and believe, not in vague ideas of 'serving their country' by illegally killing individuals and toppling regimes half a world away, but in actually helping real people, makes for a refreshing change.

This however, does not change the fact that its anachronistic portrayal of people, both Iranian and American, and its uninnovative and formulaic plot make Argo a film that is not only set in 1980, but minus the few half-hearted attempts at political correctness, could very well have been made in 1980. Tony Mendez's story could've been told in a much better way had it been made into a forty minute documentary on the History Channel.