 |
|||
 |
 |
||
 | |||
 | |||||||||||
|
|
Starring Gene Hackman, John Cazale, et al. The Conversation is the movie that you want to watch with your children when they are at that impressionable age, and, as the film grinds to a close, point to Gene Hackman on-screen and say, "I swear to God, if you ever turn out like that pathetic loser, I'm not kidding, I'll hit you in the back of the head with a baseball bat, and your mother is going after your knees with a five iron." There must have been something about the '70's that made otherwise seemingly talented directors like Sydney Pollack, who directed Three Days of the Condor, and Francis Ford Coppola, who directed the film here at hand, create suspense pictures with endings that don't allow for any sense of closure to form, and that have scores of unanswered questions plaguing you. Hackman, playing one of his more anal character roles, is Harry Caul, a top of the line wire-tapper. He has been contracted by someone known only as "the director" to record a conversation between two young people in a crowded park. After listening to their taped conversation several times through, Hackman begins to think that the couple is planning something dastardly and nefarious. A murder possibly, but I'll have to take Hackman's word for it, 'cause I sure as hell didn't see anything dastardly or nefarious about their conversation. Now, fast forward through the next 95 minutes of the movie--nothing happens in there anyway--and someone, possibly "the director", may have been killed. Hackman then meanders home, learns someone, chances are good it wasn't "the director", has bugged his apartment and is listening to his movements. So Hackman tears up his home looking for the bug--interestingly, he takes apart his air conditioner before checking the mouthpiece of his telephone--finds nothing, gives up, and plays his saxophone. And the movie ends. Apparently Hackman has done nothing to act on the supposed malicious intentions of the comments he heard in the taped conversation, cares nothing about the people who know he heard the conversation, and would rather tear up the floor boards of his apartment than move to a new location. Most vexing about The Conversation though was the way in which Coppola's script introduced numerous characters and situations to Hackman that were never played out or explained. Call me crazy, but I like to see a resolution solving ending. It is one of the very few traits I feel that all movies should have, regardless of the subject matter or intent. For the life of me, I can't figure this film out. Coppola spends twice as much time as necessary introducing Hackman's character and relationships to the viewer, and no credible conclusions or explanations are ever given. The Conversation's plot didn't seem that interesting on paper, and somehow managed to take even more of the entertainment value out of the final product. The majority of other film critics hail this film as one of the creme ala creme of the '70's; I, for one, wonder what those critics were smoking when they screened this picture. Just remember, if you see your children looking at this movie at the video store, the Louisville Slugger's in the garage.
|
| |||||
