Noir fans will love this one.
Director Neil Jordan, always up for a challenge, has faithfully embraced the hard-bitten realm of Raymond Chandler’s laconic, world weary private detective, Philip Marlowe.
 |
| Marlowe (Liam Neeson) is seasoned enough to know it's unwise to fall for a client, but Clare Cavendish (Diane Kruger) is rather hard to resist... |
Banville’s book is set during the 1950s, as befits a case taking place after Chandler’s final novel, 1958’s Playback, wherein Marlowe acknowledges his advanced age. Jordan and Monahan’s key change bounces these events back to October 1939, the year Chandler’s first Marlowe novel — The Big Sleep — was published.
It could be argued that star Liam Neeson, now in his early 70s, would have been a better fit for the seasoned 1950s Marlowe … but the actor slides so smoothly into the character’s shrewdly observant, quietly sardonic PI manner, that it scarcely matters.
Production designer John Beard has done a remarkable job of re-creating the Southern California metropolis of Bay City, Chandler’s fictitious depiction of Santa Monica (particularly since exterior filming took place in Barcelona, Spain). As befits the smoky noir atmosphere, cinematographer Xavi Giménez makes excellent use of light, dark, shadows and reflections, particularly during the story’s many nighttime settings.
Events kick off when chiffon blond heiress Clare Cavendish (Diane Kruger) hires Marlowe to find her lover, Nico Peterson, who has been missing for a fortnight. Marlowe and his new client spar verbally, amid mildly flirtatious overtones; she likes it when he uses her last name as her first name. Neeson and Kruger handle this exchange smoothly, further enhancing the tone we expect from a Chandler novel.
Marlowe senses that Clare isn’t being entirely candid; additional information requires patience. She eventually acknowledges that her husband Richard (Patrick Muldoon) loves only “polo, alcohol, waitresses … and my money.” Even so, it would appear that Nico was more than a passing fancy.
With help from cop friend Joe Green (Ian Hart), Marlowe soon learns that Nico is dead, having been run over by a car while exiting the posh, gated and heavily guarded Corbata Club: playground of the rich and dissolute. Club manager Floyd Hanson (Danny Huston), when Marlowe finally wheedles an interview, is brusque and unconcerned; the accident took place on the street outside the club gates, and — therefore — isn’t his concern.
But something doesn’t add up. The body’s head was smashed beyond recognition, even though the corpse was identified by Nico’s sister, Lynn (Daniela Melchior). More suspicious yet: After being released by the coroner, the body was cremated.
Is Nico still alive? And, if so, who was killed in front of the Corbata Club? And why?
Marlowe’s activities come to the attention of Clare’s mother, Dorothy Quincannon (Jessica Lange). She’s similarly coy and slightly mocking, acknowledging what seems an unhealthy competitive streak between mother and daughter.
(All conversations here are refined and somewhat larger than life; such dialogue comes with the territory.)
Dorothy is a fading actress with full control of the family wealth, assisted by her longtime “financial advisor” (Mitchell Mullen), who has designs on becoming the U.S. ambassador to England. He bought an entire movie lot — Pacific Film Studios — in order to help maintain her career.
Marlowe’s investigation also comes to the attention of notorious — and much feared — underworld crime boss Lou Hendricks (Alan Cumming), a fastidious dresser with a penchant for the proper use of King’s English.
(We know we’re in rarified literary waters, when a key clue turns on the discovery of a copy of William Strunk’s The Elements of Style … in a place where it seems not to belong.)
Hendricks always is accompanied by his imposing driver, Cedric (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje), also impeccably garbed and well-spoken.
Additional key characters include Detective Bernie Ohls (Colm Meaney), sympathetic to Marlowe’s cause; and Amanda “Mandy” Toxteh (Seána Kerslake), a young actress perhaps too eager to get ahead in Hollywood.
As is typical of Marlowe’s classic adventures, distinguishing between the various layers of truth and falsehood in this twisty case — populated by all manner of shady individuals — further diminishes the detective’s already grim view of humanity. He has long known that people generally live down to his lowest expectations, and this investigation is no different.
It is nice — if unexpected — to see Marlowe treated with respect by both Joe Green and Detective Ohls. Such relationships generally are fractious and obstructive, but it’s clear here that Marlowe and Green are longtime drinking buddies, while Ohls appreciates the private dick’s, ah, “extracurricular” approach to things.
Neeson slides into Marlowe’s rumpled suits and brooding nature as if born to both. To his credit — and that of Monahan’s script — the actor’s age is acknowledged. Marlowe still handles himself well in a fracas, but the effort costs him; when at one point he mutters “I’m getting too old for this,” Neeson might well be talking about himself.
David Holmes’ smoldering orchestral score occasionally flirts with jazz, but never quite gets there; he shares the soundtrack with two well-placed covers of the Sammy Fain/Irving Kahal classic, “I’ll Be Seeing You,” made famous by Billie Holiday.
Although on the surface it seems unusual for such an archetypal American character and setting to be brought to life by an Irish director and a cast laden with Irish actors, that’s scarcely noticeable. This film is a marvelous throwback to 1940s and ’50s American cinema, rich with atmosphere and captivatingly cheeky characters.
Totally fun.
No comments:
Post a Comment