[Several Vague Spoilers Throughout]
Absence of Malice strikes out against the rights and the privileges of the press. The movie suggests that sometimes the press doesn't do their research as well as they should and that they don't worry about who they hurt. OK. The problem is that nothing that Sally Field's reporter does in the film is her fault. Corrupt sources and a justice department run by injustice hardly seem like the fault of the media and yet in the end, the press gets the brunt of the blame, while the flaws with the law are mitigated by a Wilford Brimley cameo and a number of red herrings.
Furthermore, Absence of Malice is a rather offensively anti-feminist movie. Sally Field's character has clearly sacrificed all hopes of womanly happiness to progress her career and now she realizes that everything she's done to be a good journalist has made her an unappealing woman. When her paternalistic boss assures her that she's a good newspaper woman (as if that's not offensive enough), she looks at him with Sally Field-weepy-eyes and says, "What if you delete the first part." In Absence of Malice, it's clear that every time Sally Field does something traditionally female, she's being a bad journalist. Sexuality is something that gets in the way of their jobs for both of the two female characters and as a result both characters are clearly unhappy. It's just a mess.
And the plot is basically set up to knock the press, so it's very difficult to take it seriously. Sally Field plays a journalist who flirts with men, hangs out a bars trying to get scoops, and it fairly good at her job. She's fed a story linking a booze merchant with a troubled family past (Paul Newman) to the disappearance of a union boss, she jumps on it, never bothering to get comment from the suspect. Well, of course Paul Newman is innocent. And of course Newman and Field get involved. And frankly, none of it is the least bit believable. By the time Brimley shows up in the final twenty minutes to serve as a narrative crutch tying all loose ends together, it's really tough to care anymore.
And that's too bad, because naturally Newman is excellent. And Field isn't bad either considering how horribly the material treats her. And Brimley's just plain fun when he shows up.
It just doesn't cover the fact that Kurt Luedtke's script doesn't go anywhere. Since the mystery never develops and the sexual relationship is a contrived sham, your appreciation of the film rest entirely on how totally you buy into the ethical argument. But Luedtke and director Sidney Pollack have stacked the deck -- when given the choice between sympathizing with the newspaper's fat lawyer, the weasely prosecutor (Bob Balaban), and Paul Newman, what's the point? Since the entire back-story is a McGuffin, there's never really anything at stake besides ethics and it's fairly difficult to make a compelling story about something that vague. It's impossible to watch the movie and feel that there's been any clear-cut wrong doing, and yet the indictment against the press is fairly complete.
As much as I liked the acting and as much as the film is professionally made and technically superior, I can't really give this one more than a 5/10.
Absence of Malice strikes out against the rights and the privileges of the press. The movie suggests that sometimes the press doesn't do their research as well as they should and that they don't worry about who they hurt. OK. The problem is that nothing that Sally Field's reporter does in the film is her fault. Corrupt sources and a justice department run by injustice hardly seem like the fault of the media and yet in the end, the press gets the brunt of the blame, while the flaws with the law are mitigated by a Wilford Brimley cameo and a number of red herrings.
Furthermore, Absence of Malice is a rather offensively anti-feminist movie. Sally Field's character has clearly sacrificed all hopes of womanly happiness to progress her career and now she realizes that everything she's done to be a good journalist has made her an unappealing woman. When her paternalistic boss assures her that she's a good newspaper woman (as if that's not offensive enough), she looks at him with Sally Field-weepy-eyes and says, "What if you delete the first part." In Absence of Malice, it's clear that every time Sally Field does something traditionally female, she's being a bad journalist. Sexuality is something that gets in the way of their jobs for both of the two female characters and as a result both characters are clearly unhappy. It's just a mess.
And the plot is basically set up to knock the press, so it's very difficult to take it seriously. Sally Field plays a journalist who flirts with men, hangs out a bars trying to get scoops, and it fairly good at her job. She's fed a story linking a booze merchant with a troubled family past (Paul Newman) to the disappearance of a union boss, she jumps on it, never bothering to get comment from the suspect. Well, of course Paul Newman is innocent. And of course Newman and Field get involved. And frankly, none of it is the least bit believable. By the time Brimley shows up in the final twenty minutes to serve as a narrative crutch tying all loose ends together, it's really tough to care anymore.
And that's too bad, because naturally Newman is excellent. And Field isn't bad either considering how horribly the material treats her. And Brimley's just plain fun when he shows up.
It just doesn't cover the fact that Kurt Luedtke's script doesn't go anywhere. Since the mystery never develops and the sexual relationship is a contrived sham, your appreciation of the film rest entirely on how totally you buy into the ethical argument. But Luedtke and director Sidney Pollack have stacked the deck -- when given the choice between sympathizing with the newspaper's fat lawyer, the weasely prosecutor (Bob Balaban), and Paul Newman, what's the point? Since the entire back-story is a McGuffin, there's never really anything at stake besides ethics and it's fairly difficult to make a compelling story about something that vague. It's impossible to watch the movie and feel that there's been any clear-cut wrong doing, and yet the indictment against the press is fairly complete.
As much as I liked the acting and as much as the film is professionally made and technically superior, I can't really give this one more than a 5/10.