The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (1976)

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie – 1976

Director – John Cassavetes

Starring – Ben Gazzara, Seymour Cassel, and Timothy Carey

Film noir, was a movement in film, typified by stark, harsh imagery, criminal or crime elements, and an overwhelming sense of foreboding and unease.  This particular style of film saw its birth from out of the optimism and idealism of American life in the post World War 2 era.  The growing unrest Americans were feeling in the early 50s took root in the realization that this feeling of elation wouldn’t last forever, and that the unified nationalism that got people through the war was finite.  This ended up creeping into the social consciousness and eventually made its way out to popular culture, saturating the works with an often disaffected outlook on life that celebrated the strength and ingenuity of the bandit or gangster just as much as it did the policeman or community leader.

As the artists and tradespeople began to realize what it was and gave a name to it, the label of film noir, and all the gravity that came with it, came to be.  Film noir became a tool, much like German expressionism, a visual and atmospheric means of conveying mood and the general psyche of a set of characters.  All through the 60’s, the power of the medium allowed for a more rapid reach to a more and more diverse audience.  Anti-heroes became just heroes, and as such, became more appealing to a wider and wider set of audiences.  These racy and taboo subjects became sought after by the masses, and eventually, gave way to studio sanctioned artistic freedom and championed the subversive nature of a lot of the best films of the 70s.

Films known for challenging the system and pioneering the path between commercial success and artistic integrity are the hallmark of the 1970s, and as such a filmic meeting of the methods and underlying themes that define film noir, with the freedom and influences indicative of the 70s, should be astoundingly and amazingly good.  Add in an artistic, talented actor with a career worth of standout film performances as the director, and this should have been gangbusters. Well, it isn’t, and it wasn’t.

For a film with a very simple, straight forward plot, (man over-extends himself, man runs afoul of shady characters, man struggles to make it right while trying to stay alive) it seems only necessary that crafting and growing the characters would be the obvious emphasis of the film.  Ideally the result would be a lean, mean story, free of excess frills and self-serving script.  As it turns out, however, The Killing of a Chinese Bookie is a bloated, meandering mess from start to finish, and If you thought that my intro for this review was not only unnecessarily long but also more than a little over proud of itself, then you will be well prepared for what this film has to offer.

Even by 1976, John Cassavetes was an old hand at film work. A talented character actor, Cassavetes played pivotal roles in some of my very favorite films, from Rosemary’s Baby, to The Dirty Dozen, to the fantastically underrated remake of The Killers.  As a director, he is an aimless mess.  He fetishizes and takes pleasure in watching his characters struggle, and ultimately fail to connect with one another as they drift through the narrow, tiny little lives that they lead.  It seems to me that these are people who are so uncomfortable in their own skin that their only chance of survival is to band together and treat life as a war of attrition.  Success for them, in any small measure is nearly impossible, and as such their misery and lack of ambition defines them.  They are effectively one-dimensional personifications of a stick in the mud, or a wet blanket.

None of the charisma or energy that actors like Ben Gazzara and Seymour Cassel bring to their other work, shows through here.  Perhaps most tragically, Cassavetes himself seemed to be so captivated by the lives of characters along these lines that he steeped himself in this same kind of oppressive, joylessness that became the calling card of his directing career.  Where as Gazzara and Cassel could move on to other projects, and try on other characters, Cassavetes mired himself in films like Shadows, Faces, and Woman Under the Influence, (the latter two also made it on this list, only God knows why).  The terrible part is that I’ve only seen clips of his other directorial efforts, and I was immediately turned off.  I had to force myself to sit through this one, all the while hating the terrible club performances, the clunky “natural” dialog (which by the way, just seemed un-rehearsed, not natural), and the unnecessarily long and annoying closeups.

To call The Killing of a Chinese Bookie a film noir is to insult the genre.  The power of films like Kiss Me Deadly, Double Indemnity, Murder My Sweet, as well as modern neo-noir films like Blade Runner, and Brick, is the strengths of the characters, not their weaknesses.  The audience wants to root for capable people facing overwhelming odds, not someone who makes awful choices.  Phillip Marlowe is smart, charismatic and ready for anything, where as Gazzara’s Cosmo Vittelli is short-sighted, reactionary and not very bright.  In short he is a victim of his own actions, and truthfully he gets what he deserves.

Though the settings, and plots of these films are similar, the differences represent a tremendous gulf between what film noir organically was during it’s heyday, and what The Killing of a Chinese Bookie ended up being two decades later.  While reading up on the making of this film, I happened upon an essay that explained, at least in part, one of the ways this film went wrong.  In it, Cassavetes explained that Ben Gazzara was so in tune with the character that he’d had in his head, that he barely gave him any direction at all, and often would just let him roll through scenes without interruption.  After reading that, it seemed pretty obvious that this was true, and served as proof that this film had no one to steer it in any direction at all, which is why it feels like it is in park throughout the entire thing.

Since a lot of people love Cassavetes’ directing work far more than I, some even equate him with Hitchcock, Scorsese or Kurosawa in terms of importance, so it seems fair to include one of his films on this list, but three?  I would have much rather seen the far more rich and noir-ish films of Jean Pierre Melville on this list, such as Le Cercle Rouge, Un Flic, Le Deuxieme Souffle, and Army of Shadows.  I guess I’m glad that I’ve seen it, but only because that means I’ve gotten it out of the way, and don’t have to see it ever again.

Advertisements

Paths Of Glory (1957)

Paths of Glory – 1957

Director – Stanley Kubrick

Starring – Kirk Douglas, Ralph Meeker, and Adolphe Menjou

In the history of film, there are numerous examples of films showing the futility of war, the cost in human lives, and the brutality of man against himself.  Lots of films are well-known for their stance on the issues of war, a film like Apocalypse Now, puts the surrealism and carnage of war on display while Dr. Strangelove choses to highlight the ridiculous nature instead.  Other films such as Schindler’s List and The Pianist choose to show the lasting and horrible effects of war, but most all of these films labelled as important choose to stand as anti-war examples, attempting to illustrate (many of them do it quite well, too) just how pointless a lot of these conflicts actually are.

While looking back on the contributions to this list, Stanley Kubrick stands out with three prominently placed films on this list.  The first two, Dr. Strangelove, and Full Metal Jacket are no-brainers, but the third is a much lesser known film directed before Kubrick had really solidified his style.  Paths of Glory, while closer to Spartacus in style is full of substance and themes that Kubrick would touch on for the remainder of his career.

Kirk Douglas plays the beleaguered Col. Dax, a French officer stationed at the front line during World War I.  His men, already worn thin from months of fruitless fighting, have been ordered to take the “beehive”, a useless piece of land controlled by the Germans that has already switched hands numerous times preceeding this attack.  The order to carry these attacks out, given by General Mireau, is given in the hopes of earning him a promotion should the operation be a success.  The problem comes in when, after the French battalion is easily wiped out by the German forces holding the “beehive”, General Mireau grows angry with the losing effort and decides to motivate his own troops by firing upon them himself.  Once the action has subsided, Mireau, still furious over the loss, makes an example of three men by trying them for treason.  Col. Dax is the lone voice of reason, and as such, steps in to act in the defence of the men at the trial.

Kubrick’s contempt for the policies and cowardice of war makers, and war itself is made obvious in this film.  The bleakness of the battlefield, is echoed in the outlook of the soldiers on trial.  This grim worldview is a common theme, if not an outright through line of Kubrick’s subsequent body of work.  The more reasonable Col. Dax tries to be, the more absurd the situation becomes.  Reasoning seems to be thrown to the wind in favor of the keeping up of appearances and out of pure spite.  Kubrick seems to be saying that wars are run, not fought mind you, by bureaucrats and those seeking gains be they money or prestige.

The imagery in this film reaches it’s peak in the battle scenes taking place in the trenches and in the deserted and alien no-man’s land in-between the opposing armies.  Filled with twisted, distorted shapes, themselves distorted and twisted by light and shadow, these scenes have a the structure and appearance of a nightmare.  Despite the fractured appearance, the goals of the soldiers remain fairly upfront and straight forward.  Kill or be killed, live or die.  The relative normalcy in the appearance of the courtroom scenes flip-flops this.  Absurdity in normal, everyday locations is not only accepted, but encouraged.

While it maybe isn’t as indelible as some of Kubricks later films, Paths of Glory surprised me by being generally better and deeper than I thought it would be.  Early on, the film seemed only to promise mediocre action scenes, but as the plot progresses our characters are led slowly and inevitably through a series of visually stunning and tension filled settings to their doom.  If you liked the bleak and disenfranchised nature of this film, they can also be found in the works of director Jean-Pierre Melville.  Le Samouri, Bob le Flambeur, and my personal favorite Le Cercle Rouge.  Check all of them out, you won’t be sorry you did!

P.S. – Paths of Glory receives the award for having one of the coolest posters ever!  You have to admit it’s pretty eyecatching.