Eastwood, nobody's fool, seems to alternate between quiet, almost arty films, and commercial thrillers or comedies. This is probably an above-average example of one of his thrillers.
The plot -- in brief -- Eastwood is a highly skilled thief and in the process of burglarizing a rich old man's house he witnesses the murder of the owner's wife by the President of the United States (Gene Hackman) and two of his Secret Service agents. Clint manages to get away, carrying some damaging evidence with him. The police narrow down the list of suspects until only Clint is left plausible. Thereafter he is hunted by the police (Ed Harris), a hit man hired by the tycoon (E. G. Marshall), and the Secret Service (Judy Davis and Scott Glen). There is a subplot involving Clint's estranged daughter (Laura Linney) who gets together with Ed Harris in the film's course. In the end, through Clint's deft weaseling about, justice is done.
I had a bit of a problem with the film's moral calculus. E. G. Marshall, one of the world's richest men, is a good guy. We are told this repeatedly and he's shown a good deal of respect by people who should know. But then why did he "give the presidency" to a murdering, philandering fool like Hackman? And SHOULD he have? He loses our sympathy when he hires a hit man to kill Eastwood. Evidently, somehow, he manages to stab the president to death. The script seems to want us to applaud him for dealing out power and justice as he sees fit, and to respect him even after he kills Hackman and lies about it on TV, using the pat phrase, "He was like a son to me." "Good man," my foot.
It's rather a gutsy movie. In most of them, when a "high government official" is involved in some really nefarious business like murder, it's usually someone of lesser status than the President himself. (Cf., "No Way Out," in which, in a similar role, Hackman is Secretary of Defense or something.) In all of its aspects -- its photography, location shooting, musical score, and performances -- it's professionally competent. If it doesn't probe anyone's psych, it doesn't matter because it's easy to be swept up in the events and the clarity of the characterization. It even rises above that level in its dialog. The plot may be no more imaginative than is called for, but the writers have thrown in some sparkling bon mots.
Harris and Glenn are talking in a parking lot and introduce each other. Harris remarks that Glenn is famous as a state trooper for his heroism. Glenn: "I was younger and dumber then." Harris: "Yeah, I was younger then but I think I'm dumber now." When E. G. Marshall is negotiating with the hit man, he offers him three million dollars to kill Eastwood, who he believes murdered his wife. Hit man: "You're a good salesman." Marshall: "Selling sin is easy." And when Harris first finishes interrogating Clint, Harris says, "I'll see you tomorrow." Clint smiles gaily and replies: "Tomorrow is promised to no one." Now -- I'm not claiming that these are Shakespearean flights of poetry, but they're at least as good as a lot of well-known lines from B movies like "Detour." ("What is money? Just a piece of paper crawling with germs.") At least after hearing them you don't want to take a can of scouring powder to your auditory canals and clean out the accumulated garbage. Whoever is responsible for lines like that HAD to think beyond the merely utilitarian.
Nice journeyman job.
The plot -- in brief -- Eastwood is a highly skilled thief and in the process of burglarizing a rich old man's house he witnesses the murder of the owner's wife by the President of the United States (Gene Hackman) and two of his Secret Service agents. Clint manages to get away, carrying some damaging evidence with him. The police narrow down the list of suspects until only Clint is left plausible. Thereafter he is hunted by the police (Ed Harris), a hit man hired by the tycoon (E. G. Marshall), and the Secret Service (Judy Davis and Scott Glen). There is a subplot involving Clint's estranged daughter (Laura Linney) who gets together with Ed Harris in the film's course. In the end, through Clint's deft weaseling about, justice is done.
I had a bit of a problem with the film's moral calculus. E. G. Marshall, one of the world's richest men, is a good guy. We are told this repeatedly and he's shown a good deal of respect by people who should know. But then why did he "give the presidency" to a murdering, philandering fool like Hackman? And SHOULD he have? He loses our sympathy when he hires a hit man to kill Eastwood. Evidently, somehow, he manages to stab the president to death. The script seems to want us to applaud him for dealing out power and justice as he sees fit, and to respect him even after he kills Hackman and lies about it on TV, using the pat phrase, "He was like a son to me." "Good man," my foot.
It's rather a gutsy movie. In most of them, when a "high government official" is involved in some really nefarious business like murder, it's usually someone of lesser status than the President himself. (Cf., "No Way Out," in which, in a similar role, Hackman is Secretary of Defense or something.) In all of its aspects -- its photography, location shooting, musical score, and performances -- it's professionally competent. If it doesn't probe anyone's psych, it doesn't matter because it's easy to be swept up in the events and the clarity of the characterization. It even rises above that level in its dialog. The plot may be no more imaginative than is called for, but the writers have thrown in some sparkling bon mots.
Harris and Glenn are talking in a parking lot and introduce each other. Harris remarks that Glenn is famous as a state trooper for his heroism. Glenn: "I was younger and dumber then." Harris: "Yeah, I was younger then but I think I'm dumber now." When E. G. Marshall is negotiating with the hit man, he offers him three million dollars to kill Eastwood, who he believes murdered his wife. Hit man: "You're a good salesman." Marshall: "Selling sin is easy." And when Harris first finishes interrogating Clint, Harris says, "I'll see you tomorrow." Clint smiles gaily and replies: "Tomorrow is promised to no one." Now -- I'm not claiming that these are Shakespearean flights of poetry, but they're at least as good as a lot of well-known lines from B movies like "Detour." ("What is money? Just a piece of paper crawling with germs.") At least after hearing them you don't want to take a can of scouring powder to your auditory canals and clean out the accumulated garbage. Whoever is responsible for lines like that HAD to think beyond the merely utilitarian.
Nice journeyman job.