The Conversation

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

1974 was Francis Ford Coppola’s year. He won Oscars for Best Director and Adapted Screenplay for The Godfather, Part II. But he was also nominated for Best Original Screenplay for The Conversation, and that movie was also competing for Best Picture. This film is a cautionary tale about the invasion of privacy in a world of increasingly sophisticated technology, so its theme is relevant for us today. Coppola acknowledged the influence of the movie Blow-Up (which was analyzed in another post on this site) with its themes of observation and voyeurism, taking responsibility for the outcomes of surveillance, and whether what is perceived actually represents reality.

The title of the film sounds like a sociable communication, suggesting a couple of people talking to each other. But when someone listens in and records individuals speaking to each other, an ominous element is added to the proceedings. The first shot of the movie is from above looking down on a public city area, which makes the people below seem insignificant from such a high viewpoint. But, the perception changes as the camera pulls in and focuses on a mime (implying something artificial is occurring, a performance, which is a foreshadowing) who then leads us to Harry Caul (Gene Hackman, who should have received an Oscar nomination). His last name sounds like “call” associating his name to a phone conversation which can be heard and recorded. IMDb also notes that his name was in fact supposed to be “Call,” but a typo turned it into “Caul,” and Coppola liked it because it is the word for a birth defect that involves a membrane surrounding the head. The name could point to Harry’s insulated existence. There is a man with a gun-shaped microphone (implying that listening devices can be dangerous) who looks downward through a telescopic lens from the roof of a building at a young man and woman. Harry is near them. Their conversation is being monitored, and due to interference the sound becomes distorted electronically at times, suggesting the secondhand and possibly inaccurate way that an eavesdropper hears things.

Harry goes into a van which contains surveillance equipment. The vehicle has reflective windows so one can only see out, not in. Two pretty girls apply their lipstick by looking at their reflection in the van’s windows. Stan (John Cazale), who works with Harry, says inside the van that he wants the girls to show him a little “tongue,” as he photographs them. This act of voyeurism shows the violation of the young girls’ privacy. Harry tells Stan to pay attention to his recordings, so he is both offended by the other man’s crude behavior, and he also wants to stay focused on the job. They are observing Ann (Cindy Williams) telling Mark (Frederic Forrest), that she has spotted a man with a hearing aid following them, so one of Harry’s men has been compromised. The fact that Ann is suspicious of being spied upon tells us that there is something that the couple supposedly want to keep secret. Harry’s man was carrying a shopping bag that has a package that looks like it was bought at a store, but which is actually wired for sound. The image suggests that things may not be what they seem. Stan asks who is even interested in the couple, and Harry says he doesn’t know. Stan says maybe the Justice Department or the Internal Revenue Service are involved. They don’t even know the purpose of their sneaky activity, which shows how removed these men are from knowing what is actually going on. Harry says he doesn’t care what they are talking about, he only wants his recording. For him, his profession should be impersonal, but he is dealing with persons, and thus, his work fosters becoming detached and unfeeling about those he spies upon. We learn later that he is working for a private, non-government firm.

Harry goes home to his apartment which has multiple locks and an alarm, which illustrates how paranoid he has become because he knows, through his job, how exposed people are. A fellow tenant wished Harry a happy birthday before he entered his place, and then he finds a gift from the apartment building manager. He calls her and wants to know how the gift was placed in his home, considering it is equipped with an alarm. She tells Harry that she has a key for emergencies like fires. He tells her he has nothing of value so he doesn’t care about his belongings getting burned up. He says he only values that the key to his place is the sole one. He is a suspicious loner whose most valued possession is his privacy, which is ironic, since he violates the privacy of others. She also knows it is his forty-fourth birthday, and he doesn’t understand how she knows about his age and birth date. He says he will now have his mail sent to a post office box with a combination so no one can have a key to it. He takes off his pants while he is talking to her, symbolically lowering his shields in his own sanctuary. It appears that his only pleasure is to play the saxophone along with some jazz heard on his sound system.  But, he plays alone, with a recording substituting for live musicians, which stresses his solitary nature.

Harry goes to work at his factory-like shop, which reflects his dehumanized personality, and which is stocked with inanimate electronic equipment. Stan is there and tells Harry, while reading a magazine called Security World, that Harry is considered a notable person who will be attending a surveillance and security convention. Stan says another person will be at the convention who was involved in industrial espionage, learning and tipping off others about changes in car designs. This activity is unethical and probably illegal, but in the reverse morality world of these invaders of secrets, the infraction is admired. Meanwhile, Harry coordinates the various tapes in order to merge the pieces of the recorded conversation, and he looks through pictures taken of the young couple, trying to assemble a coherent picture, which he fails to do as we find out later.

We next see Harry in a phone booth. He is calling The Director, the man who hired him, to arrange the delivery of his tapes and photographs. Harry tells the person on the other end that he can’t be called back later because he doesn’t trust home phones since they can be tapped. However, Harry is told he can’t talk to The Director, and the person speaking to Harry can’t even assure him that he will be paid in full for his services. He does set up an appointment for Harry. This exchange is impersonal and cryptic. So, there is the implication that conversations can take place, but truth may not be revealed from them.

Harry visits his “girlfriend,” Amy (Teri Garr), who wasn’t sure he was coming. Again, there is a suggestion of a lack of communication. She finds out from him that it’s his birthday. She asks if something special can happen between them on this occasion. He says “like what,” because for him there can’t be anything “special” or significant in a relationship. He is cautious when it comes to revealing too much about himself, which might expose him and make him vulnerable. He says he doesn't have any secrets, but that’s all he does have, which are usually about others. His work reveals the private lives of people, which can make them susceptible to harm. She says she’s one of his secrets, since nobody is even supposed to know about their relationship. She says she sees him spying on her from the staircase, as if he can’t trust anybody, maybe observing what she is doing when he isn’t supposed to be there. Thus, he even carries his profession of eavesdropping into his private life. The two parts of his world are so interconnected, he has become his job. He’s a professional voyeur. She says it’s as if he is trying to catch her at something. She says it amusingly, but she is revealing him to himself. He even listens to her phone conversations. Amy starts singing, “When the Red Red Robin comes bob, bob bobbin’ along,” which is what Ann was singing, and which symbolizes that Harry’s work is overflowing into his private life, since he was paid to spy on a woman, but he also spies on his girlfriend. (The song contains the line, “Wake up, wake up, you sleepyhead,” which perhaps implies that Harry maybe has to “wake up” to the harm that he is doing).

Harry kisses Amy, but still holds onto his eyeglasses, and keeps his coat on, hanging onto his detached facade, showing how he can’t be emotionally connected to her. She asks about his work, since he hasn’t told her what he does for a living. She doesn’t even know about his living arrangements, and she keeps wanting to know more about him. He tells her he doesn’t like answering questions. He pays her rent, so he basically treats her like a prostitute, instead of a girlfriend. She says she was thrilled to have him show up, but says she doesn’t want “to wait for you anymore.” On his way home, he keeps thinking about the couple he observed earlier, still thinking about his work, but maybe envious of the intimacy they displayed at their meeting.

The next day Harry goes to deliver his surveillance materials to The Director, but he isn’t at his office. Instead, an assistant, Martin Stett (Harrison Ford) says he will take the package, and gives Harry the payment for his services. Harry doesn’t like his work being handed to a subordinate because he probably is not sure if it will get to the man who hired him. He most likely doesn’t want to hurt his reputation for confidentiality, which he tries to maintain, although his job shows how difficult that is to do. He gives back the money, and wrestles the package away from Stett, who tells Harry he shouldn’t get involved in what’s going on. Stett says the tapes are dangerous and “Someone may get hurt.” Harry leaves, heads to the elevator, and Mark, the man he spied on, is there. Harry now knows he was hired to conduct surveillance on someone associated with The Director’s office. He then sees Ann there, too.

Harry goes back to his workshop and again listens to the tapes. He listens to Mark and Ann setting up a date and time for something to take place at a hotel. He doesn’t like Stan asking questions about the couple’s conversation. He tells Stan he doesn’t want to be made to explain the personal problems of his clients, again wanting to maintain his distance from the subjects he is recording. Harry also shows his dislike of Stan taking the Lord’s name in vain. In his defense, Stan says it’s just normal human curiosity to ask questions. An agitated Harry says in his business he doesn’t know anything about human nature or curiosity. He would rather be clinical in his actions, and people become abstract subjects to record in his job. Otherwise, it would most likely be too emotionally precarious for him if he cared about who he observes. In the recording, Ann’s suspicions about being recorded make her ask Mark to pretend to laugh to throw off whoever might be observing. So, we know they are planning something that others may be worried about. Harry adjusts the recording and hears Mark say, “He’d kill us if he got the chance.” Thus, we know that the two are involved in something dangerous, and just from what Harry could make out, he believes that Ann and Mark are in a precarious situation.

Harry kneels in a church, and goes to confession. We now know he is a Catholic. That fact explains his distaste for Stan’s swearing. It also shows that Harry has some moral values that he has clung to as an adult. His religious beliefs are in conflict with the subversive activities inherent in his job. Underneath his uncaring surface exists a conscious that is at odds with what harm his professional duties may incur. He confesses to the priest that his work may cause the young couple to get hurt, and he admits that his job has brought harm to someone before.

At the security conference Harry observes new surveillance devices hidden in clocks, under car dashboards, and in phones. It’s a public expo, and it comes off as legitimate, as if new automobiles were on display. The lack of any concern for what is being promoted here makes it seem acceptable to invade the privacy of others. Harry is so secretive and mistrusting that he won’t allow himself to be exposed promoting the technology of others, and he says he builds his own equipment so he can insulate himself, basically keeping him cut off from the world at large. At the convention he sees Stett, appropriately on one of the cameras on display, suggesting that Harry can only participate in the world in an indirect, passive fashion. Merchants express their worry about others stealing from them, so they, ironically, are victims of their own industry. Harry sees Stan there, too. He got a job with another company because Harry keeps him in the dark about their clients. Because Stett is there, and only after Harry believes he may be in danger, does he reach out to Stan, saying that he is being followed and convinces Stan to help Harry. Harry calls Amy, but the number has been disconnected and he can’t get her new number. He is worried about being alone now that he feels threatened, but he didn’t treat Amy in a caring way, so it is too late to obtain comfort from her. Harry confronts Stett who tells him to meet on Sunday at one pm, and The Director will be there to accept the tapes. Harry, suspicious that he has become involved in a dangerous plot, says he’ll think about it.

Harry leaves the expo with other people he knows who are in the surveillance business. Young guys in a Mustang speed by their car and cut them off. Harry’s driver knows how to get info based on the other car’s license plate. He stops the car next to the youths and tells the young driver his name, address, height and weight, just to intimidate him. This scene shows how quickly one can discover personal information about someone. They go to Harry’s shop to have some drinks. Stan finds out from Bernie Moran (Allen Garfield), who says Harry is the best bugger on the West Coast, and he is the best in the east, that the secretive Harry came from New York. Bernie says he bugged his first phone when he was twelve, and boasts that his father thought that his son was very intelligent to accomplish this feat. But, Bernie’s pride derives from unscrupulous activity. Meredith (Elizabeth MacRae), who helped with Bernie’s demonstration at the convention, asks if Harry lives close by, but he doesn’t answer, unwilling to disclose personal information. She talks about herself, but he won’t divulge anything concerning his life. She says she wishes he could talk to her, that they could be friends. He starts to talk about his relationship with Amy, but in a cloaked way. Harry asks Meredith if she were involved with someone who she didn’t know when he would show up, didn’t know anything about him, but might love her, would she stick by him? She asks how would she know if he loved her? He concedes that she wouldn’t, so he basically gets his answer, that it’s unfair to ask someone to stick with a person one knows virtually nothing about.

Bernie says he bugged a presidential candidate who then lost. He takes credit for it, like he earned an infamous merit badge. Bernie seems to be in competition with Harry, trying to one-up him, and wants to get information on his work techniques. When Stan says Harry was able to bug a parakeet, Bernie feels threatened, and makes an excuse for not doing something so difficult by saying that parakeets aren’t his thing. Bernie wants to know how Harry bugged the Teamsters concerning a phony welfare fund, and says Harry was working for the Attorney General at the time. So, the dirty work is sanctioned by a supposedly legitimate person of authority in the government. Harry is surprised Bernie knows who he was working for, so Bernie is bragging about his inside information. These guys even spy on each other, which implies that nobody is safe from scrutiny. Bernie says that only the president of the Teamsters and their accountant knew about the fund, and the boat they were on when they met to discuss their arrangement was bug-proof. Yet, Harry somehow recorded the information. The president of the union thought the accountant betrayed him. The accountant’s family was later found bound, and their heads were cut off. Bernie is indicting Harry for the deaths of three people. Bernie probably isn’t really concerned about how they should take responsibility for their actions. He most likely just wants to discredit Harry based on what happened in this case. But this job is the one Harry told the priest about in confession, so secretly he is feeling torn up about the consequences of his work. Outwardly he says what happened to the victims was not his fault and whatever people do with the tapes is their business. Stan starts to play the tapes of the latest assignment, and Harry shouts to turn them off. Bernie, wanting a challenge to show he is as good as Harry, says he can figure out whatever Harry does to work a case. Stan tells him about the problems involved in bugging the couple, but Bernie can’t work out how to carry out the job successfully. Harry now proudly boasts how he did it, and says it was beautiful. One of the women there asks what did the couple do that put them in danger, but Harry says he doesn’t know, showing how in his profession the people are immaterial. He wants to believe that it’s just the mechanics of getting the information that is important, not the lives affected by the surveillance. Bernie says they should become partners, but wants to look at Harry’s devices, so he probably just wants to steal his versions of the equipment. He says he’s number two, so he has to try harder, and shows how he bugged Harry by placing a pen with a microphone in his jacket pocket. Bernie plays the conversation between Meredith and Harry, which shows how even the buggers, who champion the eavesdropping technology, can become victims, too. Harry was being confessional to the girl, and now feels his shields of privacy have been penetrated. Harry is angry, kicks Bernie out, and breaks the expensive pen, even though Bernie said he would give it to him. Everyone leaves, but Meredith says she’ll stay. Harry starts to play his tape of the couple. He says Ann sounds frightened. About her voice he says, “It makes me feel … something.” He is admitting that he is emotionally compromised, but Meredith says he doesn’t have to feel anything, he just has to do his job, which is what he has been openly, at least, telling himself. Meredith kisses him and leads him to a cot to make love, but Harry is engrossed in the recording. He says after hearing how the couple can get killed that he must destroy the tapes because he “can’t let it happen again,” referring to what Bernie said about the deaths of the three people.

Harry has a nightmare where in a fog, symbolic of how muddled morality has become for him, he tries to warn Ann. He can’t seem to reveal stuff about himself except in his dreams, but it shows how he wants to share, to connect with someone. He says he was paralyzed in his left arm and leg as a child. His mother put holy oil on him to bring about spiritual healing. He says felt disappointed he survived slipping into the therapeutic bath water that he was left in when his mother answered the doorbell. These stories show Harry’s religious background and its ability to instill feelings of guilt. This feeling of responsibility for bad outcomes is reflected in his story about hitting a friend of his father in the stomach at the age of five. The man died a year later, and the dreaming Harry seems to be making it sound like a cause and effect situation. He repeats the words from the tape, “He’d kill us if he got the chance,” trying  to warn her, so as to relieve him of his guilt, at least in his dreams. When he wakes, Meredith is gone, and so are the tapes. So, his work in a underhanded field brings about some payback, as Meredith turned the tables on Harry, appearing to be something other than what she seemed, and making him a victim.

Harry makes a call to Stett. He can’t get in touch with him. Later, he gets a call from Stett, who admits that the tapes are in his possession. Stett says they couldn’t take the chance that Harry might destroy them. Harry is alarmed because Stett has his phone number. He thought he was safe and secure, but he wasn’t. Stett says they prepare a dossier on everybody they do business with, and admits they have been following Harry, which adds a sinister tone to their talk. Stett says that Harry can deliver his photographs, and The Director will pay him in full.

Harry goes to the office building of The Director with the photos. He hears his recording of the couple playing behind a door marked “Private,” which is ironic, since the sound carries beyond the room, and this film argues that hardly anything is private anymore. Stett is there with The Director (Robert Duvall). There is a Doberman Pinscher, present, too, which adds to the scare factor. The Director says angrily to Stett, “You’d want it to be true!” But, Stett says he just wants him to be informed. The Director tells Harry his money is on the table, which Harry counts. On the desk, Harry sees a picture of the Director with Ann. The Director tells Harry to count the money outside, wanting to get rid of him. Harry leaves the photographs, but asks, “What will you do to her?” He doesn’t get an answer, showing how despite his desire to reveal things, he has trouble getting at the truth. As he leaves, Stett reminds Harry of his payment, as if to say he was compensated well for his work, so he should be quiet about it. Harry asks what will The Director do to Ann and Mark, and Stett says, “We’ll see,” which sounds ominous.

Harry knows the day, time, and place the couple talked about meeting. He checks into the hotel room next to the one mentioned on the tape. He looks for the best spot to place his surveillance material, which is under the bathroom sink. He makes a whole in the tile to insert a microphone. He can hear The Director in the adjacent room shouting. Harry is upset as he jumps out from under the sink. He goes on the balcony and can see someone being attacked through the jalousie glass. Harry recoils in horror and writhes on the bed. He puts on the TV so as not to hear, just the opposite of what he does for his profession. The television is tuned to a story about the Watergate scandal, which involved an attempt at bugging, and which adds to the theme of how pervasive surveillance at all levels had become even back then. Later, when things quiet down, Harry goes next door and picks the lock. The place has been cleaned, ready for the next guest, as if nothing happened there. The toilet has a sanitary strip on it, but it sounds like the water is running. Harry flushes it, but it is clogged and it backs up, spilling blood from soaked towels onto the floor.

Harry goes to see The Director, but he is told he has to leave. He struggles and is manhandled by two security men. As he exits the building he sees a car parked outside with curtains on the side for, yes, privacy, but Harry can see it is Ann sitting in the vehicle, so his assumption that she was harmed was false. She glances at him. We then have a scene where Ann is interrogated by the press asking about if she thinks there was any “foul play” associated with the “accident,” and will she now have “corporate control” of her company? She sees Harry and recognizes him. From the reporter’s question, we learn that The Director was her husband. However, we know that Ann on the tape said she loved Mark. A reporter asks if her husband had a history of driving drunk. Harry, as do we, realize that Ann and Mark were the perpetrators of the crime, not The Director (a name that becomes ironic since he is the one who was manipulated), and that perception of the truth as we, and Harry, observed it was false. So Harry’s surveillance does not always provide an accurate picture of reality. Ann and Mark wanted The Director to suspect his wife’s infidelity, hire someone to spy on them, and in the tape provide the location to lure him and kill him. They not only remove the impediment to their being together, but also bestow corporate control to Ann. Harry envisions how the person being attacked in the next hotel room was really The Director, and how the couple made his death look like a car accident. So, appearances can be deceptive as to who is innocent and who is guilty. The phrase “He’d kill us if he got the chance” makes it sound now like a rationalization to initiate a preemptive strike.

Back at his apartment, Harry receives a call, on his supposedly restricted line, but the other party hangs up when he answers. The phone rings again, and we hear a tape rewinding which then plays a recorded message from Stett, (we are now in a world bereft of human communication) who obviously was involved in the plot. The message tells Harry that they know he knows, and warns him not to pursue things further, because they will be “listening to you.” Now he is the target of surveillance. He starts to check his place for bugs. He is not safe in his own sanctuary. He pulls apart outlets, air vents, lights, and his phone. He checks his statute of the Mother Mary, which he breaks apart, symbolically showing his faith in even his own religion to protect him has been destroyed. He starts to become unhinged as he rips apart his walls and floors. His place is in shambles as he plays his saxophone, his music being all that he has left. But, he didn’t check the saxophone. Can he ever be safe and secure in his own privacy? Can we?

The next film is Colossus: The Forbin Project.

Mississippi Burning

SPOILER ALERT! The plot of the movie will be discussed.

Director Alan Parker’s 1988 film asks a difficult question: How far must people go beyond the limits of the law when individuals cannot obtain justice under the existing laws? To explore this issue, the story is set during a period of racial turmoil in Mississippi in 1964.

As the movie credits are displayed, there is a shot of two water fountains. A pipe running between the sinks symbolizes the iron hard divide separating the two races, since one fountain is for whites and one is for “colored” people. But, as we know, it is the whites in power that have established this division, and it shows how this enforced wall of separation creates a lack of community (the word “unity” is contained in the word) between diverse groups. The next shot is of a building burning. It turns out to be a church, and, ironically, we hear a hymn sung in the background, as a place of Christian values is destroyed as retribution for trying to change the status quo by those pretending to live by Jesus’ teachings of brotherhood.

We then witness the scene which initiates the confrontation between the local and Federal authorities. Three young northern civil rights activists, two white boys and one black, who were trying to get African Americans registered to vote in Philadelphia, Mississippi, drive a car out of town at night (the attacks usually occur at night in the movie, accompanied by bass-driven thumping music, emphasizing the ugliness of the hate of these citizens which lies beneath the smiles displayed during the day). They are chased off the road by pick-up trucks and a police car. Here we have a merging of the police, who are supposed to protect all citizens, with members of the Ku Klux Klan, whose racist agenda preaches the exact opposite of that protection. The original plan of these men is to scare the young men, but one of their group, Frank Bailey (Michael Rooker), isn’t worried about exposing his face, because he then shoots the driver in the head. We get a black screen, stressing the dark deeds, and we hear the other attackers whoop it up as they kill the other two activists.

The issue of civil rights for African Americans was a primary concern at the time, led by black leaders, especially Martin Luther King, Jr. The South had imposed Jim Crow laws to keep blacks subservient. Federal legislation passed in Washington, D. C. attempted to rid the nation of prejudicial restrictions. So, we then see FBI agents in a car in Mississippi to investigate the disappearance of the three men. Agent Ward (Willem Dafoe), a young, serious, by-the-book fellow, heads up the investigation, despite his youth, and his partner is Rupert Anderson (Gene Hackman). Anderson was a sheriff in Mississippi before joining the Bureau, and the two could not be more different. Anderson sings, sarcastically, the Ku Klux Klan marching song, which doesn’t amuse Ward. Anderson questions Ward’s lack of experience, but his young superior educates him concerning his ability when he tells him he was shot making sure African American James Meredith was admitted to a white southern college. In response to Anderson’s statement that at least he lived, Ward shows his priority is on the bigger picture when he says, “No, what’s important is Meredith lived.”

We witness the different styles of these two men when they arrive in town. Anderson stops to say hello to the locals, showing how he is familiar with the need to act folksy in a place like this one. But, when inside the Jessup County Sheriff’s Office, and Deputy Pell (Brad Dourif) dismisses Ward by saying he will have to wait to see the sheriff, Anderson knows he must dispense with politeness and needs to be tough with the local cops to establish respect. After meeting with Sheriff Stuckey (Gailard Sartain), Ward says the official story (the surface lie) is that the youths were stopped for speeding, brought back to the sheriff’s office, released, and accompanied to the county line. But, being trained activists, they should have called into their headquarters, but they didn’t, which causes Ward to become suspicious of the local police report. Anderson tries to make Ward understand how a small town like this one works when Ward questions the police report. He says it doesn’t matter what the truth is, because if the local sheriff says that’s the way it is, “then that’s the way it is.” Anderson says, despite actual geography, being in that small town is like being a million miles away from the rest of the world. That is how insulated and entrenched in their beliefs the residents are.

Anderson and Ward go into a restaurant to eat, with Anderson understanding the correct behavior, charming the hostess, and telling Ward not to go into the “colored” section. When Ward wanders into the segregated area, the intimidation is palpable because he violates the local rules. Total silence descends on the establishment, and eyes focus on Ward. But, Ward, although noble in his intentions, doesn’t understand that when he sits down and questions a black man in the eatery, he puts the man in danger just by sitting next to the FBI agent. That black man is later abducted and injured.

The next scene has Ward and Anderson standing among the burned ruins of the church where the civil rights activists were trying to get blacks educated about voting. Anderson points out the irony of the past events by saying that these people didn’t even know they had the right to vote, and in retaliation for that knowledge, they lose the place they went to for sanctuary and worship. Ward wants to question the townspeople, but Anderson tells his fellow agent that they will not talk with Ward. The two of them get to leave, but the blacks have to stay there and sustain the harmful effects of the FBI’s passing presence. Anderson’s prediction is initially correct as victims who escaped the church attack find it pointless to speak up about the assailants.

Back at the motel where they are staying, Anderson says he believes that the civil rights boys were used, sacrificed from a distance. Ward says there are causes worth dying for, to which Anderson replies that down there, folks think there are things worth killing for. Thus, those who want to change what those in power have enforced, must suffer, while those holding onto that power, feel they must inflict suffering on those that resist their rule. This concept lays the foundation for what happens later in the movie, since it implies that those wishing to make changes to what they consider unjust practices feel they must sometimes circumvent the law.

In the motel room, Anderson relates an insightful story about how his father killed the mule of a black neighbor who was doing better financially than his dad. The neighbor then moved away. His father was ashamed, but said if he wasn’t better than a black man, then who was he better than? Anderson says about his father, “My old man was so full of hate that he didn’t know that bein’ poor was what was killin’ him.” Those who are in charge want to shift the blame for the poverty that they have created, not wanting their victims to realize that they and the conditions they have spawned are the real enemy. But, wealth and power can ramp up the propaganda to divert fault, and point the finger of accusation at others to be blamed as the threat to the average person’s problems. In Nazi Germany, the Jews were the targets; in the United States, it was African Americans.

To illustrate the dark side lurking beneath Southern hospitality, a gunshot destroys the agents’ motel room window, and they discover a burning cross outside, a KKK calling card illustrating the Klan’s demonic version of Christianity. The racist organization’s contempt for the blacks is only surpassed by its hatred for outside forces trying to undermine the bigoted rules in place. Ward wants more agents, but Anderson warns that that is the wrong action, because it will just escalate the antagonism toward the outsiders, and hurt the FBI investigation.

Later, Anderson recognizes a man who sticks out because he drives into town in a Cadillac adorned with a Confederate flag. His name is Clayton Townley (Stephen Tobolowsky), who we discover is the area’s Grand Wizard of the KKK. In typical procedural fashion, Ward says he will check out the license plates of those with him. Anderson, instead, first goes to the barbershop to get the feel for what’s going on. He encounters Mayor Tilman (R. Lee Ermey), who emphasizes the rigidity implied in the film’s first image. He tells Anderson, “Fact is we got two cultures down here: a white culture and a colored culture. Now, that’s the way it always has been, and that’s the way it always will be.” When Anderson says how the rest of the country is progressing away from that belief, Sheriff Stuckey expresses the region’s contempt for other views when he says, “Rest of America don’t mean jack shit. You in Mississippi now.” Anderson also goes to the beauty parlor to insinuate himself with the ladies, and encounters Mrs. Pell (Frances McDormand).

The agents find out that the car used by the civil rights workers has been discovered in a swamp. The FBI men trudging through the muddy waters implies how they have to navigate through the murky deceptions of the town that is mired in the stagnation of its racial hatred. Ward wants to bring in a hundred to two hundred more men to dredge the swamp. Anderson pleads against this action, saying that this nuclear sized reaction coming from outside forces will begin a war. Ward says that the war started long before they arrived on the scene. Anderson’s pragmatism continues to slam up against Ward’s aggressive idealism.

If the war was already in progress, it then starts to escalate. There are more abductions, beatings and burnings. One young defiant boy. Aaron (Darius McCrary) helps the agents, pointing them to the sheriff’s office as being part of the Klan’s activities, and convincing another young African American to identify perpetrators (while his face is hidden behind a cardboard box). These men are brought to trial for their home invasions, but the judge suspends their sentences, saying that they were unduly put upon by outside forces which caused their extreme actions. This decision shows the futility of trying to get any justice under local laws because of how the deep-seated racial prejudice permeates all levels of the judicial system. Aaron is beaten, along with others, by Klansmen, and his bible is kicked out of his hands, outside a church after services. There is a repeat of the ironic contrast of a hymn being sung in the background as the acts of violence clash with the religious worship of those who had joined together in peaceful harmony. Aaron will eventually lose his home to a fire, and almost loses his father in an attempted lynching, which he thwarts.

While Ward interrogates Pell about the fifty minutes he was with his wife that he claims as an alibi for when the civil rights boys went missing, Anderson begins to ingratiate himself with Mrs. Pell, hoping to get information out of her. Again, Anderson uses the Southern tools of charm and decorum, while Ward employs the direct approach. Outside, Anderson says that the wife is a good person who wound up with a jerk like Pell because girls like her look for a guy all their lives to marry and then later in life are full of regrets. But, he did notice that their wedding picture showed the men had their thumbs tucked into their waist bands with three fingers visibly extended on the outside. This action is code for being members of the KKK. Thus, Pell’s association with the Klan is verified.

Ward continues to operate on a broad, intrusive scale, taking over a theater for his large operation. When the theater owner balks at their presence, he buys the theater, no matter the cost. Anderson, knowing the turf, is more surgical in his methods. He pays an unexpectant visit to a private “club” that is attended by Klansmen, including Pell. He riles Frank Bailey to the point where the man admits that he would have no problem killing black men or civil rights workers. After Bailey shoves Anderson, he puts a stranglehold on the man’s scrotum, and Frank goes down hard. Later Ward, concerned about crossing legal lines, confronts Anderson angrily about his intimidation techniques, and his semi-romantic moves on Mrs. Pell. That doesn’t stop Anderson. He visits Mrs. Pell when her husband is not at home, and brings her flowers, called trumpet pitchers. These flowers are a symbol for what is going on in the town. They are pretty looking, but they don’t smell nice. Mrs. Pell said their other name is “Ladies from Hell,” because they are carnivorous. Again, we have a reference to the misleading surface Southern congeniality covering a darker side below the surface. But, it also applies to the way Anderson is unethically manipulating Mrs. Pell. He figures out that she is not thrilled with her husband when he says he’s quite a guy, and she just looks away, without comment. He eventually exploits that disillusionment.

We have more ironic scenes as the press interview the townspeople while the multitude of federal agents dredge the swamp. One woman says African Americans are “nasty, not like white folks,” and the statement is followed by a cut to Frank Bailey attacking people. Clayton Townley says the press distorts reality, but then confirms the media’s reporting of the area’s bigotry and un-Christian behavior by saying how they reject Jews (for not accepting Christ), Catholics (for bowing down to a Roman dictator), and Turks, “Orientals,” and Negroes, because they defy white Anglo-Saxon democracy, which represents “the American way.” Later, he gives a speech at a rally, and shots of children in the audience illustrate how hatred can be passed down through the generations. It spreads like a disease. Mrs. Pell confirms this perception when Anderson visits her again. She says, “Hatred isn’t something you’re born with. It gets taught. . . At seven years of age, you get told it enough times, you believe it. You believe the hatred. You live it. You breathe it. You marry it.” She then admits that Pell was there at the killings of the civil rights boys. Anderson, crossing ethical boundaries, holds and kisses her.

 But, from Mrs. Pell they find out where the bodies are buried, and retrieve them. Sheriff Stuckey, realizing that Anderson has obtained this information from Mrs. Pell, tells his deputy he has to deal with his wife. Pell goes home with a couple of fellow Klan members, and brutally beats his wife. When Anderson sees her in the hospital, he wants revenge. He has a confrontation with Ward, who is at first reluctant to take drastic measures. He says he doesn’t want to be dragged into the gutter to get things done. But, Anderson counters by saying, “These people are crawling out of the sewer, Mr. Ward. Maybe the gutter’s where we outta be!” Ward finally concedes, saying he will do things Anderson’s way, with his small group of people (sort of his version of a black ops team). Ward says, “Whatever it takes.” It has come to that; the rules are thrown out to get the job done. Fire must be fought with fire.

Now the tables are turned. Instead of a black man being abducted, a white man is taken, Mayor Tilman. And, he is taken to a shack confronted by a black man who at first wears a KKK hood, to give this white man a taste of his own medicine. He tells a story of a black boy who was kidnapped and had his scrotum sliced off. He threatens to do the same to Tilman (the second time a local’s manhood is threatened, possibly because these individuals are not living up to the standards of true gentlemen) if he doesn’t give him the names of those involved in the killings. The mayor gives him the information. We next see the black man on a small plane taking off. He works for the FBI, but does special assignments that Anderson knew about. They know Tilman won’t say anything because the Klan will kill him for ratting them out. They discover that the attacks on the civil rights workers was Townley’s idea. Stuckey was smart enough not to be part of it, although he knew about the plan. The agents make it appear that the perpetrators called each other for a meeting at a place they have bugged. They discover that the weak link in the group is Lester Cowens (Pruitt Taylor Vince).

They show up where Lester works, pretend that they had a meeting with him, so as to make people think Lester is a collaborator. The agents, now totally working outside the law, again mimic the Klan’s tactics, in a sense becoming what they are hunting. They stage an assault on Lester’s house wearing KKK hoods, kidnap him, and make it appear that he is rescued by the FBI who were watching him. They say they will protect him if he will testify against the others, which he agrees to do.

 In another illegal transgression, Anderson goes to the same community barbershop, and takes over the shaving of Pell. He cuts him a few times, and then beats him in retaliation for what he did to his wife. The shop is guarded by a couple of Anderson’s men, preventing Ward from intervening. It is significant that while Anderson assaults Pell, he mentions the deputy’s “stupid smile.” It is another reference to that outward appearance of civility which disguises the evil hiding beneath it.

The criminals, except Stuckey, who is acquitted, receive severe sentences, but on Federal civil rights violations, because the local jurisdiction would never convict the men of murder, given the racist society in which the killings took place. Anderson visits Mrs. Pell in her ransacked home, punishment for her cooperation with the FBI. He is leaving, and she tells him don’t send her any postcards from the road. She knows he can’t really romantically commit to her, that his job is what he is tied to. She says she was born in Jessup County, and will stay there, probably die there. But, she has hope because there are some decent people who know she did the right thing.

The person who eulogizes the dead black civil rights youth says he has no more love to give, and only has anger in his heart. The state of Mississippi won’t even let the black boy be buried next to his white companions, racism being perpetrated even after death. He is tired of seeing black men murdered by white men, and he wants the others at the service to share his anger. The bigoted hatred has so defiled the land, that it has invaded the sanctuary of the Christian church, where Jesus’ peaceful preachings are put in abeyance because the obtainment of justice requires that a war must be fought.

In the end, Ward and Anderson seem to have become allies. Ward finally calls Anderson by his first name, Rupert. In this story of obvious right and wrong, we allow for the Federal authorities to transgress. We might be generous and say that they transcend the law in order to achieve a higher purpose. But what if the situation were different, where things were not so clear-cut? Can the same dispensing of the rules allow for abuse instead of achieving justice? What do we do then?

The next film is Gone Baby, Gone.

Unforgiven

SPOILER ALERT! The plot of the movie will be discussed.

When one thinks of “revisionist” westerns, this 1992 Oscar winner for best picture is the first film that usually comes to mind. Here, we do not have your John Wayne clearly defined good-guy-vs.-bad guy motion picture where the righteous are rewarded and the evil punished. There is plenty of suffering and blame to go around in this film for most of its characters.

William Munny, (Clint Eastwood, also the director, who came to fame acting in this genre), is trying hard to make a go at being a reformed outlaw, one who was a mean drunkard that, as he later says, “killed just about everything that walks or crawled at one time or the other,” including women and children. His wife, now dead from smallpox, reformed him, sobered him up. But, as the Schofield Kid (Jaimz Woolvett) says, his walking the straight and narrow hasn’t been too prosperous for him. When we first see Will, he is sliding in the mud, trying to separate his healthy pigs from those that have “the fever,” and there are few healthy ones left. This man is obviously not your typical hero of the mythical, (which, by definition, means fictional) Old West. Perhaps he is a Job-like figure, who must be tested by God, or maybe he must experience suffering, including the loss of his beloved wife, to pay for the sins he has committed.

He is trying to take care of his young son and younger daughter when the Kid comes with an invitation to join him in order to collect a reward for killing a couple of cowboys. The reward is offered by the prostitutes of the town of Big Whiskey (the name hints at the moral decay of this world) in Nebraska because one of their members, Delilah (Anna Levine), had her face cut by a cowboy after the woman giggled at the sight of his tiny penis. In the Bible, Delilah is a femme fatale, a woman who takes away Samson’s strength by cutting his hair. In this film, men are satirized for being so preoccupied with their maleness that they commit horrible acts to defend their sexuality. Here, it is the man doing the cutting, but Delilah’s disfigurement is not a reflection of her ugliness, but that of her attacker. The women, although relegated to the profession of prostitution, assert themselves. Alice (Frances Fisher), is their leader. She says that “Even though we let them smelly fools ride us like horses don’t mean we gotta let ‘em brand us like horses. Maybe we ain’t nothing but whores but we, by god, ain’t horses!”

They want justice. But, that attribute is hard to come by in this world. The owner of the bordello, Skinny (Anthony James) is only worried about the loss of income he will sustain since he feels nobody will want to pay for sex with a scarred woman. Unfortunately, Alice gets no satisfaction from Sheriff Little Bill Daggett (Gene Hackman), who goes along with Skinny, reducing the argument to a matter of property. Since Delilah is “damaged goods,” Little Bill orders that the cowboys pay back Skinny with horses, basically equating, despite Alice’s protestation, the women with horses. Little Bill invokes a double gender standard, saying these men are not bad, because they don’t continuously do wrong things, which, as Alice points out, means they are not like “whores.” The implication is that women providing sex to consenting men is worse than the occasional violence of men done to women. So, the prostitutes pool their money and get the word out that they will pay to have the cowboys killed. In some Clint Eastwood films, (for example, The Outlaw Josey Wales and Absolute Power), the government is not an admirable institution, with those in power abusing the laws that are meant to protect the citizens, causing people to become outlaws (those outside of the law) to fix the damage.

Little Bill represents the “real” West as opposed to the romanticized version of literature and movies. It is probably no coincidence that his name, the “Little” making it sound ironically cute, and Will’s derive from the same proper name. Little Bill is really as bad as an outlaw while pretending to be an upholder of the legal order. Yes, he does try to stop violent crime in his town by not allowing firearms. But, only so he can retain all the power. The ways he treats prisoners is sadistic. One may say he is trying to prevent the killing of the cowboys, but if he had enforced the law fairly, the prostitutes wouldn’t have offered the reward in the first place. It is significant that the house that he is building, as one of the deputies says, “doesn’t have a straight angle in that whole god-damned porch, or the whole house for that matter.” He is as crooked as his home.

Little Bill’s encounter with English Bob (Richard Harris) and the latter’s biographer, W. W. Beauchamps (Saul Rubinek), further demonstrates the debunking of the idealized Old West. English Bob has a superior British attitude toward the United States. After a newspaper tells us that President Garfield was assassinated, he says that a country needs a king or queen, because he says, “the sight of royalty would cause you to dismiss all thoughts of bloodshed and you would stand, how should I put it? In awe. Now a president, I mean, why not shoot a president?” Later, as Little Bill throws him out of the town, he lectures the residents by saying that they have emigrated away from morals, laws, and honor. His elevated condescending speech supposedly upholding a sense of morality is ironic in the face of the reality that he just uses his attitude to justify his willingness to be an assassin, just like the one who killed the president, to collect the prostitutes’ reward.

This ironic contrast is mirrored in Beauchamps’ book title, The Duke of Death, making an outlaw appear to be royalty. Little Bill deflates the author’s version, calling English Bob “The Duck of Death,” and then reveals the accurate, sleazy events of one of Bob’s kills. In the incident, a man named “Two-Gun Corcoran” was so nicknamed not because he carried two weapons, but because the length of his penis was longer than the Colt he used. Again, just as in the attack on Delilah, we have man’s preoccupation with his sexual organ, and, as in Dr. Strangelove, there is a connection between man’s desire for sexual power leading to violence. And English Bob was not defending a lady’s honor, but was just jealous that Corcoran had sex with a woman he lusted after. There was no dramatic face-off between two skilled gunmen. Bob wanted to shoot his adversary before he had a chance to draw, but missed because he was too drunk. Corcoran rushed his draw after Bob’s miss and shot off his toe. Then one of his hands was blown off because his gun exploded. Bob killed an unarmed Corcoran. Little Bill says a real killer doesn’t have to be fast, just cool-headed. After English Bob leaves, Beauchamps remains with Little Bill, now recording the sheriff’s realistic version of history.

Will decides to join up with the Kid for the money. Even his own horse proves uncooperative, causing his rider to fall to the ground. Will, perhaps rightly, says he is being punished for having treated animals so cruelly in the past. The two join up with Will’s old partner in crime, Ned (Morgan Freeman), who has also become a farmer and doubts their ability to do the job. Ned is married to a Native American woman, Sally Two Trees (Cherrilene Cardinal). Notice how her name contrasts with Corcoran’s nickname, Two-Guns. She is another example of the female gender being the one that aspires to a higher standard of life. Her stern look when she eyes Will’s rifle stowed in his saddle illustrates her disapproval of her husband descending into his old ways.  

Will tries to convince Ned that their job is just to get a fresh start. He says that they did their type of work for money before. Ned punctures Will’s rationalization by saying “Yeah we thought we did,” implying that they really did their nasty deeds because, underneath, they enjoyed it. But, Ned also tries to buy into Will’s declaration that he’s not the kind of man he used to be. Will says, “I ain’t like that no more … I ain’t no different than anyone else.” But, he keeps having memories and dreams of past actions that haunt him and remind him that he is different. He tries to stay reformed, and refuses whiskey to keep him warm in a rain storm. He again seems to be punished despite his temperance, becoming ghastly ill. His guilty memories increase as he tells Ned that he has seen “the angel of death.” In the saloon, Little Bill continues Will’s penance by savagely beating him for not turning over his gun. He crawls out of the place, and is rescued by Ned and the Kid. Alice accuses Little Bill of “kicking the shit out of an innocent man.” Bill’s response is interesting; he says, “Innocent of what?” Instead of the usual perception that innocence is the norm and guilt the exception, in the topsy-turvy world of this story, guilt is assumed, and innocence is rare.

Will is near death after his illness and beating, and what we have in the following scenes is a sort of dark version of Christ and the resurrection. Like Jesus, Will comes back to life after three days. The first person he sees is the prostitute, Delilah, who Will says looks like “an Angel.” Could she also be considered a version of Mary Magdalene? He now has facial scars, like the woman’s. But, he says to her, “you ain’t ugly, like me, it’s just that we both have got scars.” It could be argued, somewhat like Christ, Will is taking on the sins committed by men like himself. But, this is not a holy environment, and self-sacrifice is not the way to make things right. He is a vengeful spirit.

Will, along with the other two, go off to kill the cowboys. Again, because this film is revisionist, we don’t have dramatic shooting contests at high noon between the opposing combatants, with a quick dispensing of righteous justice. Instead, the movie shows how difficult and agonizing it is to kill someone. Ned shoots the horse their target is riding, and the animal falls, breaking the man’s leg. Since Ned no longer has the stomach for dealing out death, he hands his rifle over to Will, who shoots the crawling man, who dies an agonizing death. The Kid then kills the other man, unarmed, caught literally with his pants down, in an outhouse, reflecting the foul nature of their mission. Because of his male youthfulness, The Kid (aptly named showing his lack of experience, but also named after a type of pistol), first admires Will’s history, the excitement of it, the danger, having been taught that being a man means showing that one is the better shooter. He boasts about killing five men (a lie) because that is what he feels is expected of him. He is surprised that the other two men don’t want to talk about their kills, not understanding how they don’t want to think about the horror they have perpetuated. Perhaps the Kid’s literal nearsightedness symbolizes his inability to see the outcome of the path he is on. After he kills the cowboy, the Kid is shaken. Will sums up how there is no nobility in taking a life: “It’s a hell of a thing, killing a man. Taking away all he’s got and all he’s ever gonna’ have.”

There are a number of times in the film that people state someone else “had it coming.” When Ned hears an exaggerated version of the cowboy’s cutting of Delilah, he says, “I guess they got it comin.’” After townspeople learn that one of the cowboys is dead, a rock is thrown through the bordello’s window. In response, Alice says, “He had it coming! They all have it coming!” In an attempt to clear his conscience and direct guilt outward, too, the Kid says of the men they killed, “Yeah, well I guess they had it coming.” But again, Will presents the big picture by pointing out that everyone must pay for all human crimes when he says, “We all got it coming, kid.”

Ned left the other two to return home but is caught, and Little Bill brutally whips him, looking for information about Will and the Kid, and eventually kills him. His body is grotesquely displayed in a coffin outside the saloon as a warning against “assassins.” When will hears about Ned, he becomes the Angel of Death he dreamed about. The Kid leaves, finally realizing that he wants no part of Will’s life, saying he’s not like the man he first admired. Will goes to the town and kills everyone in the saloon, proving the effectiveness of Little Bill’s statement that the most lethal man is the cool one, or in this case, the person who is ice cold. He spares Beauchamps. Will he write a book about Will, and will it be true or commercially romanticized?

Earlier, while talking to Ned, Will remembered killing a man who he recalls, “didn’t do anything to deserve to get shot.” Just before he finishes off Little Bill, the sheriff says, “I don’t deserve this, to die like this.” Will now understands that when it comes to individual lives, “Deserve’s got nothin’to do with it.” He tells the townspeople to bury Ned in a proper manner and leave the prostitutes alone, or else he will kill every man in town. His deadly skills have been used in a murky way by the universe to perform a demonic correction to the way of things. He may return to his children, move, and prosper “in dry goods,” but he knows he hasn’t stopped paying for his sins. When Little Bill said to him, “I’ll see you in hell, William Munny,” his response was, “Yeah.”

We’ll be skipping a week and then the next film is Dog Day Afternoon.