Roman Polanski delivers an homage to the hard-boiled noir detective movies of the 1930s. The tribute is so effective and well-polished, I half expected Humphrey Bogart to emerge from shadows and spit a grim, gravel-voiced monologue at any moment. Instead, Jack Nicholson provides his own take on the same type of role: Jake Gittes, a tenacious private detective who worms his way around the edges of a seedy murder investigation. Roped into the matter as a simple patsy, he refuses to allow the resultant smear on his reputation and doggedly pushes through a haze of lies and misdirection, finding unpleasant answers whilst dodging bald threats and thuggish violence through a mix of sharp intuition and dumb luck.
Chinatown has earned a reputation for its screenplay, allegedly one of the finest ever written. I can't argue. It's a wonderfully efficient picture; every action produces a logical consequence, even if they don't surface until much later. The smart, swerving plot keeps us guessing right to the finish, assisted by a motley cast of would-be (and already-been) crooks. Jake is a magnificent protagonist, and not just in the context of grizzled noir sleuths. Hardened and cynical from years on the job, he's insatiable in his quest for the truth, not because he seeks justice but because he can't help himself. He's just gotta know. Watching Jake work is mesmerizing, particularly where it comes to his arsenal of clever little tricks. Kicking out a brake light so it's easier to tail a lead; sticking a cheap pocket watch under the tire of a parked car to pinpoint the hour it's moved; ad-libbing a phony back-story to justify his presence on private property... clearly, he's been around the block a few times. His proficiencies both inform and delight. Seems like gritty, crime-focused films from this period were big on the nuts and bolts of the work - see Coppola's The Conversation or Mann's Thief - and I just can't get enough of it. At least, not when it's done right.
Chinatown does it right. It does most everything right, from the plot to the script to the casting to the historical context and underlying meaning. Enjoyable probably isn't the right word to describe a tale that ends on such a dark series of notes, but I certainly enjoyed the ride. They don't make 'em like this any more. Hell, they didn't make 'em like this in 1974, either.
Chinatown has earned a reputation for its screenplay, allegedly one of the finest ever written. I can't argue. It's a wonderfully efficient picture; every action produces a logical consequence, even if they don't surface until much later. The smart, swerving plot keeps us guessing right to the finish, assisted by a motley cast of would-be (and already-been) crooks. Jake is a magnificent protagonist, and not just in the context of grizzled noir sleuths. Hardened and cynical from years on the job, he's insatiable in his quest for the truth, not because he seeks justice but because he can't help himself. He's just gotta know. Watching Jake work is mesmerizing, particularly where it comes to his arsenal of clever little tricks. Kicking out a brake light so it's easier to tail a lead; sticking a cheap pocket watch under the tire of a parked car to pinpoint the hour it's moved; ad-libbing a phony back-story to justify his presence on private property... clearly, he's been around the block a few times. His proficiencies both inform and delight. Seems like gritty, crime-focused films from this period were big on the nuts and bolts of the work - see Coppola's The Conversation or Mann's Thief - and I just can't get enough of it. At least, not when it's done right.
Chinatown does it right. It does most everything right, from the plot to the script to the casting to the historical context and underlying meaning. Enjoyable probably isn't the right word to describe a tale that ends on such a dark series of notes, but I certainly enjoyed the ride. They don't make 'em like this any more. Hell, they didn't make 'em like this in 1974, either.