{"id":844,"date":"2017-07-14T12:19:48","date_gmt":"2017-07-14T12:19:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/travelingboy.com\/travel\/?p=844"},"modified":"2018-02-17T15:27:15","modified_gmt":"2018-02-17T15:27:15","slug":"klute-look-back","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/travelingboy.com\/travel\/klute-look-back\/","title":{"rendered":"Time Capsule Cinema: Klute \u2013 A Look Back"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"KluteBy Walt Mundkowsky<\/em><\/p>\n

Directed by<\/strong>: Alan J. Pakula<\/a><\/p>\n

Writing Credits<\/strong>:\u00a0Andy Lewis<\/a>\u00a0and\u00a0David E. Lewis<\/a><\/p>\n

Cinematography<\/strong>:\u00a0Gordon Willis<\/a><\/p>\n

Cast<\/strong>: Jane Fonda (Oscar winning performance),<\/span><\/a> Donald Sutherland,<\/span><\/a> Roy Scheider, <\/span><\/a>Charles Cioffi<\/span> <\/a><\/p>\n

Alan J. Pakula\u2019s Klute<\/em><\/strong> (Warner Bros.) represents a considerable advance over the first film he directed, but what wouldn\u2019t? The Sterile Cuckoo<\/em><\/strong> was an abomination, from the clunky camera set-ups and music to Liza Minnelli\u2019s uncontrolled performance, all emotion and no design. Throughout I was struck by the chasm between what the picture thought it was presenting (a love-starved, skittish adolescent) and what I saw (a deranged girl crying for love and killing it off in one motion). Like its predecessor, Klute<\/em><\/strong> has been greeted with extravagant praise; Pauline Kael\u2019s paean led me to expect a film half \u201cfull-scale, definitive portrait of a call girl\u201d and half \u201cpowerful, scary melodrama,\u201d which sounds rather like constructing a novel by alternating chapters from Zola\u2019s Nana<\/em><\/strong> and Psycho<\/em><\/strong>. At any rate, no such luck: The thriller half does not compare with Dario Argento\u2019s The Bird with the Crystal Plumage<\/em><\/strong>, from which it appears largely derived; the call-girl half is mostly shallow and sketchy.<\/p>\n

\"JaneThe screenplay by Andy and Dave Lewis fails to fuse the two halves for any length of time; they keep breaking apart and jostling each other. The thriller half contains the plot. John Klute is a small-town policeman who comes to New York to investigate the disappearance of a friend. The missing man seems connected with a call girl named Bree Daniels \u2014 he wrote her some obscene letters \u2014 but she doesn\u2019t remember him. (A New York detective says of her, \u201cA good call girl \u2014 she\u2019ll turn six or seven hundred tricks a year. Faces get blurred.\u201d) Klute starts with her and they pursue the slimmest possibilities \u2014 an ex-roommate of Bree\u2019s and junkie who could be anywhere, and a phantom-like maniac who likes to beat up women. Bree begins to fall in love, somewhat unwillingly, with Klute. Unsurprisingly, the investigation comes full circle: The maniac is the man who sent Klute to New York in the first place. Bree and Klute leave together, though she\u2019s iffy about their future.<\/p>\n

\"DonaldI can\u2019t think of anything in this part of the movie that does not misfire. Plot mechanics \u2014 threatening phone calls, killer following and attacking lone girls \u2014 invite comparison with The Bird with the Crystal Plumage<\/em><\/strong>, and Michael Small\u2019s music is a blatant rehash of the wonders Ennio Morricone worked for that film. Morricone\u2019s thriller scores are stamped with catchy tunes of economy and simplicity; grating, incisive, tense harmonies; \u201csweet-and-sour, now jaunty or jeering, now sensual and insinuating,\u201d as John Simon wrote. Small provides none of this, and proves what I\u2019ve never doubted \u2014 if you want a Morricone score, go to the source.<\/p>\n

Klute<\/em><\/strong> plods, the one thing a thriller, even a semi-thriller, must not do. Pakula\u2019s sense of where his camera should be has improved only slightly; he has some ease but no real fluency. The camera movements \u2014 down the dinner table at the film\u2019s start; retreating as Bree sits up in bed, paralyzed by the ringing telephone or as she slowly undresses for an old client; panning down the face of a skyscraper; through the empty factory where Bree is trapped \u2014 are pro forma. Compositions for the Panavision screen are careful, studied and for all that, unimaginative. Besides Argento\u2019s deftness, which lends him an articulate and subtle visual style, he believes in the horror conventions he applies \u2014 the pale, lean erotic \/ murderous witch in her wide-brimmed hat and shiny leather coat. The mystery part of Klute<\/em><\/strong> lacks urgency mainly because Pakula has no conviction in what he is doing. He doesn\u2019t seem to buy it for a moment, so neither should we.<\/p>\n

\"JaneThe call-girl sections are better, as they benefit from Jane Fonda\u2019s remarkable portrayal. To Time<\/em><\/strong> it is \u201cher best performance to date,\u201d and Kael says, \u201cThere isn\u2019t another young dramatic actress in American films who can touch her.\u201d (Uh, okay.) I would not call it great. Ms. Fonda immerses herself in the role and brings to it bite and smarts. She makes the most of what contradictions she can find, and that is all. The contrast in Bree\u2019s two sides is perfectly realized: With her clients she is assured, openly provocative, wholly in command (\u201cWe could have a good time for fifty. Or if you wanted something extra, it would be a little bit more\u201d); alone in her cluttered flat she looks fragile, hurt, lost. She is trying to get out of \u201cthe life\u201d and into modeling and acting \u2014 with no success in the episodes we see. She is going to a psychiatrist. The confusions of her life are dramatized in the opening minutes; Carl Lerner\u2019s editing is snappy and telling. But things go wrong.<\/p>\n

The subsequent attraction to Klute and the affair that follows are ambiguous rather than complex. The script would have us believe that Klute wants to make an honest woman out of her, and that she is drawn to his decency and concern for her future. A standard Hollywood motive is just as plausible: The girl falls for the guy who first ignores her. Early on she remarks with some amusement, \u201cMen have paid two hundred dollars for me and here you are turning down a freebie.\u201d The tensions Bree feels between viewing Klute as an escape from her crushing present, and seeing him as a painful involvement that must be destroyed are achingly captured. After she finally seduces him, she says, \u201cDon\u2019t feel bad about losing your virtue. I sort of knew you would \u2014 everybody always does,\u201d and bounds out the door. Her jauntiness is too forced to convince. Sometime later, in bed with Klute again, she asks, \u201cYou\u2019re not gonna get hung up on me, are you?\u201d The thriller plot keeps getting in the way of all this, and the resolution defeats any more genuine impulses.<\/p>\n

As any kind of clinical study of a call girl, Klute<\/em><\/strong> is hopeless. It has no awareness of ritual relationships with pimps and clients. \u201cPimps don\u2019t get dates for you, they just take your money,\u201d Bree says, and that is all the film has to offer about them. We know nothing of Bree\u2019s background, of how and why she became a call girl. Here again, the thriller material works against an understanding of character.<\/p>\n

The scenes with Bree and her analyst form the core of the film; for me, they most clearly illustrate its failure and desire to have things both ways. They are not badly written and Ms. Fonda is superb in them, but they externalize conflicts that should be, and to some extent are, present elsewhere. It would hardly be more obvious if the psychiatrist wore a DEVICE<\/strong> sign around her neck. She intrudes so rarely that Bree\u2019s impact is similar to those times in Godard when a character (L\u00e9aud all too often) faces the camera and spouts away. Such scenes can be effective in two modes: Keep the camera on the patient throughout and have the questions issue from offscreen, as Truffaut did in The 400<\/em><\/strong> Blows<\/em><\/strong>; or make the questioner substantial in his own right. In The Pumpkin Eater<\/em><\/strong> Eric Porter was allowed to act a human being with a set of responses: He got annoyed, bored, interested; he even went on vacation. Klute<\/em><\/strong> takes an approach somewhere between the two \u2014 cutting is lazy shot \/ reverse shot ping pong. The analyst hasn\u2019t the status of a recognizable person, yet the emphasis on Bree is diluted. We get neither an intense subjectivity nor a finely delineated objectivity. It\u2019s the problem with the whole film in little.<\/p>\n

Pakula\u2019s successes are with his actors. Klute is a thankless, monotone part. Donald Sutherland supplies some dimension by playing him as a methodical, faithful, humorless clod. Supporting parts are solidly cast and acted, but I must point out two women: Betty Murray has a distraught and nervous loveliness in her fleeting appearances as the missing man\u2019s wife, and Dorothy Tristan, splendid in the otherwise dismissable End of the Road<\/em><\/strong>, makes a shattering impression as the junkie without once resorting to the battery of actorish mannerisms one usually finds in the role.<\/p>\n

I used to think the thriller form could be adapted to all sorts of uses, but I grow less and less sure of that. As for Pakula: He has tact and undeniable ability at handling actors. Today neither of those is a common gift, and he may make a consistently fine film.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Alan J. Pakula\u2019s Klute (Warner Bros.) represents a considerable advance over the first film he directed, but what wouldn\u2019t? The Sterile Cuckoo was an abomination, from the clunky camera set-ups and music to Liza Minnelli\u2019s uncontrolled performance, all emotion and no design.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":840,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[117],"tags":[137,136,135,134,107,108],"class_list":["post-844","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-time-capsule-cinema","tag-alan-pakula","tag-donald-sutherland","tag-jane-fonda","tag-klute","tag-movie","tag-review"],"yoast_head":"\nTime Capsule Cinema: Klute \u2013 A Look Back - Traveling Archive<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/travelingboy.com\/travel\/klute-look-back\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Time Capsule Cinema: Klute \u2013 A Look Back - Traveling Archive\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Alan J. Pakula\u2019s Klute (Warner Bros.) represents a considerable advance over the first film he directed, but what wouldn\u2019t? 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