The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial — based on Herman Wouk’s 1951 novel, The Caine Mutiny — has been an actor’s showcase ever since he adapted it for the stage two years later.
Given its ongoing popularity as a live theater production, it’s surprising that no big-screen version has been mounted since director Edward Dmytryk’s powerhouse with Humphrey Bogart, José Ferrer, Van Johnson and Fred MacMurray. But scripters Stanley Roberts and Michael Blankfort strayed significantly from Wouk’s source material in that 1954 film; director/adaptor William Friedkin has gone back to basics with this new version.
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| Lt. Stephen Maryk (Jack Lacey, left) is understandably unhappy upon learning that his defense attorney, Lt. Barney Greenwald (Jason Clarke), believes him guilty. |
That certainly doesn’t diminish the power of Friedkin’s adaptation. Wouk’s dialogue still crackles with intensity; the story remains riveting; and cinematographer Michael Grady adds considerable tension with inventive camera angles and shrewd, well employed close-ups.
And, yes; the acting is exceptional.
Wouk’s original took place in a World War II setting; Friedkin’s sole major change moves the story to the present day, setting the action in the aftermath of a mutiny that takes place during the USS Caine’s mine-sweeping operation in the Persian Gulf. Lt. Stephen Maryk (Jack Lacy) is on trial for “improperly” relieving Capt. Philip Francis Queeg (Kiefer Sutherland) of duty during a dangerous typhoon.
Maryk did so because he believed Queeg’s actions during the storm put the ship in peril. Maryk took command, citing Article 184 of Navy Regulations, and steered the Caine north — directly into the storm — instead of south, as Queeg had demanded. The ship and crew survived, apparently validating Maryk’s decision … but that didn’t save him from the consequences of his actions.
In another nod to modern times, the courtroom prosecuting attorney has been gender-shifted; Monica Raymund gives a crackerjack performance as Lt. Commander Challee. Eyes blazing, posture combative, armed with impressive legal and naval knowledge, clearly whip-smart and sharply perceptive, she’s a true force of nature.
Maryk’s defense attorney — Lt. Barney Greenwald (Jason Clarke) — doesn’t even want the assignment. As he admits to an ashen-faced Maryk, prior to the start of trial, he believes his client guilty, and would much rather act as prosecutor. But Greenwald understands the importance of a fair trial, and recognizes his duty to mount the best possible defense.
Even so, Greenwald’s initial ambivalence does not go unnoticed by Capt. Blakely (Lance Reddick), chief judge of the court-martial. In the forcefully clipped, severe tone for which Reddick has become famous, he gives Maryk the opportunity for fresh counsel. (Reddick gets more out of a frown, than most actors get out of pages of dialogue.)
Instinct prompts the defendant to stick with Greenwald.
By this point, Lacy has established Maryk as an honest and honorable young officer, if a bit unsophisticated, who sincerely believes that he did the right thing, and — as events proceed — becomes increasingly worried by how the trial plays out.
Challee goes first; she calls Queeg to the centrally placed chair. Sutherland makes him understandably aggrieved by how things turned out, but calmly insistent that his initial order (to head south) should have been obeyed, and that Maryk was out of line; plenty of others on the bridge should confirm as much.
Queeg acknowledges being a tough disciplinarian — recognizing that this did not always endear him to the crew — but knowledge of the situation, and the vessel, is rigorous; his bearing and delivery are military-precise.
But Friedkin errs here. It’s essential that Queeg does appear calm, rational and assured during this first testimony … but Sutherland repeatedly grips and twiddles his thumbs in a distracting manner that definitely suggests anxiety and uncertainty.
And perhaps more.
Subsequent key witnesses paint an increasingly complex picture that puts Queeg in a different light, although Challee effectively deflects suggestions that the captain ever broke protocol, or — as this becomes a stronger possibility — that he was “unhinged.”
Greenwald remains passive during some of this testimony, and even refuses to cross-examine one witness; Blakely finds that particularly odd. (Unlike civilian courtroom proceedings, where the judge serves mostly as a referee, Blakely does his own questioning whenever unsatisfied with a witness’ reply.)
François Battiste is dignified and authoritative as Capt. Randolph Southard, a veteran naval officer called by Challee to confirm that, in his opinion, Queeg did everything right during what was admittedly a dire situation.
Lewis Pullman is mildly condescending as the intellectual Lt. Thomas Keefer, who solemnly supports the behavior of Maryk, a good friend. Greenwald’s clever legal maneuver allows Tom Riley’s earnest junior officer Willis Keith, another friend of Maryk’s, to expand upon Queeg’s behavior prior to the typhoon.
Elizabeth Anweiss and Jay Duplass are insufferably pompous as psychiatrists Dr. Lundeen and Dr. Bird, who examined Queeg “extensively” and insist that he’s a mentally fit officer.
Gabe Kessler adds fleeting levity as signalman Junius Urban, a minimally educated and quite terrified young man, whose confused memory of events seems a waste of the court’s time. (But is it?)
Fans who enjoy television’s Law & Order, for the courtroom sparring in each story’s second half, will be held spellbound by this film’s sharply delivered war of words and wits. Raymund’s Challee is a formidable pit bull; Clarke’s much quieter Greenwald nonetheless scores significant points.
The climactic moment comes when Greenwald recalls Queeg for defense testimony, at which point Sutherland’s performance becomes mesmerizing.
The key point here is whether — given the importance of respecting rank, prior military service and chain of command — it’s ever appropriate to challenge a senior officer, particularly if such an action is shaded by personal animosity (which becomes increasingly clear here).
But Wouk’s saga also has a deeper, subtler undercurrent. Every story has a villain, and — in this case — it’s not the one you expect.
Lance Reddick died earlier this year, on March 17; he will be deeply missed. William Friedkin, whose brilliant career brought us (among many others) The French Connection, The Exorcist and To Live and Die in L.A., died just two months ago, on Aug. 7.
He may not be around to enjoy the critical acclaim for this, his final film, but it’s an excellent note on which to depart the cinematic stage.
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