Movie Review: The Outrage (1964)

by Tony Dayoub

Martin Ritt's The Outrage is one of the more offbeat stabs Hollywood has taken at westernizing (both in the literal and the genre sense) a Kurosawa film. Like The Magnificent Seven (1960) before it, as well as the former's Italian contemporary, A Fistful of Dollars (1964), the change of setting from feudal Japan to the Old West may seem at first glance to be the only difference in this almost scene-for-scene translation of the Japanese director's Rashomon. But Rashomon's focus on the perception of moral responsibility subtly shifts to a study of class hierarchy in this ambitious, more deliberately-paced, dreamlike western.

The Year 2002: Counting Down the Zeroes - Road to Perdition (Sam Mendes)

There was a time when Sam Mendes seemed like he was at the vanguard of young directors. His first film, American Beauty (1999), struck a very resonant fin de siècle chord at the time of its release. But with subsequent releases like Jarhead (2005), Revolutionary Road (2008), and as some early reviews indicate, Away We Go (2009), it has become apparent that while Mendes has a nose for talent, he doesn't seem to have much to say. This strangely superficial quality that he disguises fairly well in his selection of material to bring to the screen doesn't seem to affect his second film (perhaps because it is the only genre piece in his oeuvre), Road to Perdition. Maybe its because the film, based on a graphic novel, treads some familiar ground. The neo-noir follows some well-established gangster drama tropes, like "blood is thicker than water", "it's only business", and "honor amongst thieves." Fusing these cliches to a family psychodrama contrasting the relationship between button man Michael Sullivan (Tom Hanks) and his eponymous son (Tyler Hoechlin), to the one between his surrogate father, mob boss John Rooney (Paul Newman, in his last onscreen film performance) and his envious son, Connor (Daniel Craig), may freshen up the proceedings somewhat. However, thanks to the film's powerful performances, a moving score by Thomas Newman (The Shawshank Redemption), and the gorgeous cinematography, the movie still holds up in a way that most of Mendes later work doesn't. Here, I've chosen to focus on the wonderful imagery by the late, great Conrad Hall (In Cold Blood, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid). This was his last film, and won him the last of three Academy Awards for Best Cinematography. And for my money, this poetic film succeeds mostly on the basis of its beautiful and evocative images. This post was first published at Film for the Soul for its continuing series on the best movies of the 2000s, Counting Down the Zeroes, on 6/15/09.

Paul Newman

by Tony Dayoub

As he got older, he only got more beautiful. His steely blue eyes took on a special glint as his hair grayed. Years before Brad Pitt came onto the scene, even a middle-aged Paul Newman had a six-pack that was the envy of most men. And when his physique started to decline, as it does for us all, his cocky voice took on a smoky, gruff quality that denoted a world-weariness, which he put to good use in some of his later films, like Fort Apache, The Bronx (1980), The Color of Money (1986), and most recently, Cars (2006).

According to Eric Lax, his biographer, Newman's looks got in the way of his career early on. Often finding himself up for the same roles as his Actors' Studio contemporaries, James Dean and Marlon Brando, Newman was having some trouble standing out. Too good-looking for Dean's roles, and resembling Brando a little too closely, his film career was slower to start. But Broadway had no trouble putting him to work, where he debuted in the original production of Picnic. After a stumble in his first film, the ill-suited costume drama, The Silver Chalice (1954), he recovered nicely, playing boxer Rocky Graziano in Somebody Up There Likes Me (1958).

DVD Review: Cool Hand Luke - Classic Is Worth Revisiting For Its Strong Cast

by Tony Dayoub



Stuart Rosenberg's Cool Hand Luke (1967) is out this week in a beautiful deluxe edition. It is an amazing film worth revisiting, and for me, an overlooked classic I've only now had the opportunity to watch. Though the spotlight is on Paul Newman, in what is possibly his most iconic lead role (in a career filled with other roles of arguably equal stature), the big surprise for me is its supporting cast.


There are the three standouts. One is, of course, George Kennedy as Dragline, the oafish leader of the motley Florida chain gang. Winning a deserved Academy Award for this role, it saddens me that he became better known for his continuing appearances in both the Airport and Naked Gun franchises. Dragline is the camp's teller of tall tales, spreading the myth of Luke's rebellious nature with little regard for the man's relatively frail humanity. Then there's the prison's Captain, played by Strother Martin (The Wild Bunch). With one line, "What we've got here is... failure to communicate," Martin became the answer to a movie trivia question. But with little screen time, he is still able to make his insidious presence felt throughout the film. Morgan Woodward (Dallas), is the third, playing the evil guard Boss Godfrey, known to the chain gang as "The Man with No Eyes" for his propensity to hide behind mirrored sunglasses. Godfrey speaks only one or two lines in the entire film, even shooting his rifle more often than that. But Woodward grimly hovers over the gang like a vulture, ready to swoop in at the first sign of weakness.

The film's charm, though, rests squarely on the shoulders of Paul Newman at his most roguish. His Luke is not out to topple the status quo like McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975). Luke simply carries a death wish ever since his return from the war, where he was an ill-suited hero who, despite winning numerous citations, never made it past buck private for his insubordination. Newman lets us see the frail ego behind the bluster in a scene where he has a final visit from his mother (Jo Van Fleet) before her death. His determination to escape, prompted by his captors' decision to keep him "in the box" during his mother's funeral (so he won't get any ideas), is motivated primarily by his self-destructive streak. While inspiring to his fellow prisoners, it is really a continuation of the downward spiral that landed him in prison in the first place. But he sure looks like a handsome devil while he goes down in flames.

Luke encourages his friends to overcome their oppressors by example. Whether its serving as the sacrificial lamb in a wager concerning whether he can eat 50 eggs in 1 hour, or hurriedly tarring a road so that the chain gang will have two hours of free time in the day left over to relax, Luke inspires the inmates to consider optimism as their biggest weapon against the jailers.

Run down the cast list and you'll find others who would go on to fame in TV or cinema. There's Luke Askew (Easy Rider) as Boss Paul, Joe Don Baker (Walking Tall) as Dynamite, J.D. Cannon (McCloud) as Society Red, Clifton James (Live and Let Die) as Carr, Wayne Rogers (TV's M*A*S*H) as Gambler, Ralph Waite (The Waltons) as Alibi, and Anthony Zerbe (The Matrix Reloaded, The Omega Man) as Dog Boy. Better known to the public are two future stars, Dennis Hopper (Blue Velvet, Easy Rider) as the mentally disabled Babalugats, and Harry Dean Stanton (Big Love, Alien), here credited as Dean Stanton, as Tramp. Director Rosenberg smartly filled out the cast with strong character actors, allowing each to make his role distinct in a relatively short amount of time onscreen.

Owing to the relationship they developed in this film, Newman and Rosenberg would go on to collaborate in three more films before Rosenberg would receive renewed acclaim for films like The Amityville Horror (1979) and The Pope of Greenwich Village (1984). Stuart Rosenberg died last year at the age of 79.

Cool Hand Luke is now available in a Deluxe Edition on standard DVD and Blu-ray.

Still provided courtesy of Warner Home Entertainment.