Insomnia May 8, 2006
Posted by clydefro in : Modern Films, 1990s , add a comment
The 1997 Norwegian film Insomnia
The plot is best not known before seeing the film. It involves a detective disgraced from his job in Sweden who now works in Norway. He is sent, along with his partner, to a town in northern Norway after a teenage girl has been murdered. The town is located near the Arctic Circle, amidst the “land of the midnight sun.” The lack of darkness plays a key role in the film, most notably in Skarsgard’s inability to sleep due to the constant light. When the girl’s backpack is found, the police engineer a trap for the killer, but Skarsgard accidentally shoots his partner. He then must try to solve the girl’s murder without implicating himself in his parner’s shooting.
Like lots of people, I saw the 2002 Hollywood version of Insomnia directed by Christopher Nolan and starring Al Pacino and Robin Williams in the theater. I’d never heard of the 1997 original at the time and enjoyed the remake, but there was nothing beneath the surface calling me back for a second viewing. Since then I’ve watched the original Insomnia twice and even enjoyed it more the second time. The characters in the 1997 film are much more interesting, especially the protoganist detective. Whereas Pacino makes the character someone we’ve all seen before, Skarsgard injects a certain amount of flawed, even repulsive, instability into his performance that prevents the audience from trusting or feeling at ease with him, yet it adds an enormous depth to the film as you watch him disintegrate before your own eyes. The many seemingly small differences between the original and the remake (such as the dog being shot and killed by Skarsgard, but conveniently already dead for Pacino) are exactly what make the Norwegian film such a breath of fresh air.
There are so many little touches in Insomnia that help transform the film from a simple psychological police thriller into a small masterpiece. When Skarsgard runs the red light near the beginning, the astute viewer immediately knows that something is amiss. It’s unclear whether he’s doing this because he can or if he really didn’t realize the light was red. At the end of the film, as he is leaving the town having faced no punishment for all his misdeeds aside from his own guilt, we see that this time he stops at the red light. Perhaps everything that has happened to him has been somewhat cathartic and he can now awaken from the fog that’s been plaguing him throughout the film.
The only DVD available in R1 is from the Criterion Collection and it happened to be their first release anamorphically enhanced for widescreen televisions. The picture quality is still quite strong, despite some dirt and specks throughout the film. Unfortunately there are no special features as an interview with the director would have been a nice addition. The film, however, is more than enough to make it a worthy addition to someone’s collection.
The Long Goodbye May 2, 2006
Posted by clydefro in : Classic Films, 1970s , 1 comment so far
Robert Altman’s take on Philip Marlowe is a mostly brilliant film, one that is not beholden to any traditional genre and manages to thrive quite well on its own. That reluctance to adhere to category is, of course, typical of Altman, who has made a career subverting classic genres from war film to western. The Long Goodbye
In an interview on the DVD, Altman tells us that the idea was for Marlowe to awaken in the beginning of the film as though he had been sleeping for a couple of decades, akin to Rip Van Winkle. This is basically what happens as the Marlowe character is inserted into the early 1970s, complete with female neighbors who like to walk around unclothed. The story, as in other Chandler stories, is not really the most important thing. Here, we have Marlowe’s friend being accused of murdering his wife and apparently killing himself. Sterling Hayden fits in somehow as a very eccentric writer and Henry Gibson is here too as a mysterious doctor. The plot basically comes together by the end, but this is not a movie one watches for the plot anyway.
As Marlowe, Elliott Gould gives perhaps the performance of his career. His interpretation is so different than what film audiences have seen from the likes of Humphrey Bogart, Robert Montgomery and Dick Powell that it feels like a completely different character. Gould manages to shake off any preconceptions and make this Marlowe his own. I’ve read numerous mentions of Chandler’s influence on the Coen brothers’ The Big Lebowski, but I see Jeff Bridges’ performance in that movie as a burned-out version of Gould’s Marlowe. They are both easy-going guys thrown into situations out of their control that try to get to the bottom of things. While Gould’s character is a little more polished as a detective than Lebowski, both men seem to prefer relaxing to solving mysteries. Gould plays Marlowe as a slacker and it somehow works beautifully. His fingerprint scene at the police station is particularly great fun.
One other note, the film’s theme is creatively used throughout the picture. We first hear it sung by Johnny Mercer and then are treated to snippets via a doorbell and marching band, among other instances. I must say that I cannot recall another film that has used this technique and it is one of the little touches that Altman brings to the movie that makes it so enjoyable. Also, the DVD mentions the interesting tidbit that the movie was first released in Los Angeles with an advertising campaign portraying the film as a detective thriller and failed to stir up much business. The poster was then changed to the one shown here and the film played much more succesfully in New York. Things like that make you wonder how movie studio executives ever got their job in the first place.
Great movies tend to get better with repeated viewings and I imagine The Long Goodbye will continue to gain my respect the next time I see the film. After watching it once, I’m anxious to revisit other films with the Marlowe character and then settle back in with Altman and Gould. Theirs may be my favorite portrayal of the classic detective despite, or maybe because of, an unwillingness to adhere to the paint by numbers rules of noir films.
(Note: I wrote another piece upon seeing Altman’s film a second time, which can be read by clicking here.)
