Hey, everyone. "Moriarty" here with some Rumblings From The Lab.
I’m seeing this film a few days before its release at an all-media screening, and at this point, I’m trying not to take anything anyone says into that screening with me. Both Beaks and blueman had their problems with the film, and you’ll see in both reviews that they damn Ratner’s work with faint praise at best.
Here’s Beaks, for example, with a rhetorical question I’ve been wondering about m’self...
RED DRAGON (d. Brett Ratner, w. Ted Tally)
The most curious moment in RED DRAGON comes early when the following credit flashes across the screen: “A Brett Ratner Film”. Is it? Is this the work of a singular artist with a pronounced style, working from a script he shepherded and re-wrote, while his cinematographer and designers scurried to tailor the look of the film to his particular vision? Or is this the anonymous work of an efficient craftsman serving the script and protecting the studio’s investment?
To be fair, it’s overly simplistic to break down directors into those two tidy categories, but when confronted with the controversial possessory credit, one figures a certain level of authorship is implied. RED DRAGON, in all its two-shot, eyeline-match glory, is an anonymous movie ultimately belonging to the audience. As an entertainment, it’s perfect for those unfamiliar with either Thomas Harris’s novel or Michael Mann’s moody MANHUNTER, and that’s fine, but this is not the work of a single voice. It’s a collaborative effort in the truest sense that’s periodically elevated by some impressive performances, but too often dragged down by a horribly miscast lead and an unimaginative script that rivals only HARRY POTTER AND THE SORCERER’S STONE as the most rote adaptation ever put to the screen.
The film opens confidently enough with a depiction of the infamous feast of Benjamin Raspail, the offensively untalented flautist murdered by Hannibal Lecter and literally served as dinner to the board of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, followed immediately by the good doctor’s gruesome capture by Will Graham. It’s in this opening scene alone that Edward Norton’s performance is even remotely effective; his physicality and hesitant speech nicely tags Graham as a respectful, deferential foil to Dr. Lecter much as Foster’s Clarice Starling was at the outset of SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. When he discovers a tome on Lecter’s shelf bookmarked to an entry on the preparation of “sweet bread” (shorthand for a tasty meal of pancreas and thymus), genuine fear grips the viewer as Lecter goes on the attack, and the film is off to a rollicking start, but it’s all undone once we pick up with the retired Graham repairing boats at his coastal Florida home. Though a fine actor when inhabiting characters of a more frantic, conflicted nature, Norton is utterly unconvincing as the haunted shell Graham is supposed to be post-assault. As the actor runs through his first scene with Harvey Keitel’s Jack Crawford, it’s impossible not to compare his work to the more textured performance of William Petersen. There’s no substance to Norton’s portrayal at all, and it leaves a gaping hole where the film’s tortured, yet driven protagonist should be.
For a good half-hour, the film lurches along with Norton through the early segment of the investigation without stirring an ounce of dread in the viewer (desperately and disgracefully resorting to a high-decibel scare as Graham works through the details of the second murder carried out by the “Tooth Fairy”). Just as it’s all beginning to feel like a typical episode of CSI, Ralph Fiennes’s Francis Dolarhyde is introduced, and, slowly, menace begins to creep back into the film. Far more human and pitiable than Jame Gumb in SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, Dolarhyde is easily Harris’s most fascinating monster; a tragic by-product of vicious child abuse horrifyingly obsessed with transformation. Fiennes wisely contrasts his impressively bulked-up physique with small, hesitant gestures and movements that elicit audience sympathy; it’s an impressive trick that imbues the film a welcome glimmer of soul.
Fiennes’s excellent work is matched effortlessly by Emily Watson as Dolarhyde’s blind beauty, Reba. Though many will likely be impressed by Watson’s uncanny impersonation of a blind woman, her real bravura achievement is the way she veers from confident and outspoken to a very sad, needy sensuality as she throws herself at a man she barely knows and who hardly ever speaks to her. When focusing on these two wounded, fumbling romantics, RED DRAGON succeeds nicely as a minor character study, and Ratner, in his best directing to date, allows his actors long takes and wisely selected reaction shots. It’s nice work, exhibiting a subtlety heretofore unseen in the director’s previous assignments.
But this isn’t a Cassavetes film; it’s fucking RED DRAGON….. Hannibal Lecter….. blood, guts and the Goldberg Variations, right? And just how is Sir Anthony this time around? If he was teetering over the abyss of self-parody in HANNIBAL, Hopkins’s Lecter has plummeted to several fathoms below crass Saturday Night Live-style caricature, making one nostalgic for his comparably nuanced turn as the stroke-addled patriarch in LEGENDS OF THE FALL. Whereas each line dripped with a seductive, malevolent glee in SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, Hopkins has trashed his Oscar-winning work in that film by indulging his worst actorly impulses, evincing all the frightfulness of a man-in-suit monster from the cheesiest Toho productions (think GODZILLA’S REVENGE). With his artistic returns irrevocably diminished, it’s a relief to know they’ve run out of Lecter tales, though should this installment perform up to expectations at the box office, one shudders to think how Dino De Laurentiis might contrive for a fourth go-round with the Cannibal.
Perhaps the most amusing aspect of this production is that Ratner is working with Dante Spinotti, the genius cinematographer of nearly every Michael Mann movie, including MANHUNTER, and the difference between the two films couldn’t be more striking. No doubt sensing Ratner’s workmanlike approach to the material, Spinotti has contributed a stripped down, semi-gritty look that stands in marked contrast to Mann’s 80’s-era predilection for high gloss. Coupled with the ratty, lived-in production design, the filmmakers wisely avoid any surface comparison with MANHUNTER, allowing this latest model to form its own identity.
If RED DRAGON is, at its worst, unnecessary, then it feels like something of a triumph for a project with the potential to be much, much worse. Once the film reaches its nicely effective climax (the surprise of which is being spoiled in nearly every RED DRAGON spot being run in theaters and on television, so be forewarned), it’s hard to imagine those unfamiliar with this chapter in the Lecter legacy to walk out less than satisfied, which is why all of the critical huffing and puffing feels too much like the rantings of a bitter cineaste. For all of its missteps, this isn’t a bad film; it’s just highly forgettable. And even if Ratner isn’t close to deserving full authorship on it, at least he’s made relative strides as a filmmaker, even though he continues to be one of the least exciting directors of his generation. But since when is mediocrity rewarded with the keys to one of the most coveted franchises in Hollywood?
Forget it, Beaks….. it’s Warner Brothers.
Faithfully submitted,
Mr. Beaks
Wow. There’s a lot of detail here about tonight’s NRG screening, and how oddly slack security was. From what I hear, they had more on their mind than just running a few screenings yesterday, though, so I guess a certain laxness is to be expected. Anyway... let’s see if blueman (one of our chat regulars, and a viewer of fairly demanding tastes) had any more enthusiasm for what he saw...
Moriarty,
***Warning, heavy spoilers starting in the fourth paragraph***
Just got back from a media screening of Red Dragon at the Arclight Cinemas in Hollywood. Red Dragon, as everyone outside of Red China is aware, is Brett (Rush Hour) Ratner's remake of Michael Mann's Manhunter, which in turn is based on Thomas Harris' novel, Red Dragon, which we all know by now was the introduction to the character Hannibal Lector. With me so far? Now, Manhunter is in my opinion, a classic film. Just perfect. But unfortunately(well,not UNfortunately, I don't really care, but I'm naturally whiny) Harris' next book featuring Lector, Silence of the Lambs, was made into a blockbusting, academy award winning, really slow movie about moths and Jodie Foster's sheep-related emotional scarring, plus some stuff about a guy making a dress out of women's skin. Okay, it's also really good, but unlike Manhunter, it made money, and a star out of Anthony Hopkin. Which leads into last year's "final" Hannibal Lector film, Hannibal. But gasp! shock! Hannibal made money too, and since MGM, it's distributor, is only used to making money once every two years(thank you Mr. Bond) it of course decided that they need more Hannibal and his cannibal hijinks. So we get an unneccessary remake by...Brett Ratner?! Let's see, Michael Mann->Jonathon Demme->Ridley Scott->The Fucking Director of FAMILY MAN?! The director of Family Man, for god's sake!! Now, some people have a low opinion of Ridley Scott, but isn't the next step down from him at least Tony Scott? So in my mind, hearing this horrifying fact months ago, I wrote the film off as a disaster, a last, cheap effort to cash in on the Lector. Then I saw the cast: Edward Norton as Will Graham, Ralph Fiennes as Francis Dolarhyde, Emily Watson, Harvey Keitel, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and of course Anthony Hopkins as the Doctor. As good a cast as has been assembled this year, by leaps and bounds.
So when I got the screening pass on tuesday, I was curious but somewhat ambivalent. Almost decided to stay home. It comes out soon, anyway...but, I wanted to know WHY. Why did they remake Manhunter? (besides money) Why remake a perfect movie. Okay, well, we'd get Anthony Hopkins instead of Brian Cox as Lector, but that's trading a famous great actor for a less famous great actor. There had to be SOME reason why all these terrific actors, most at their prime, would commit to a Brett Ratner movie. So I went.
It was an NRG screening, a rather low key one at that...no loyalty oaths, no double checking, hell,they didn't even bother looking at our tickets on the way into the theater. It was a packed house but I got there early, and was sixth in line. The line started late, so the wait wasn't too bad(sometimes, to get a good spot in line at an NRG screening, you have to get there like three hours early). Picked out my favorite seat at an Arclight theater, center center-rear. Prime spot. No speech before the screening(and thankfully no tax form/evaluation to fill out at the end).
First change from Manhunter is right off the bat: The capture of Hannibal Lector. Easily the best Anthony Hopkins scene in the movie...here Ratner does a good job of making a suspenseful scene, especially considering I knew what was going to happen. But then something weird happens. Edward Norton, one of the finest actors of his generation...is annoying as hell. It may be the fact that the dialogue is 80% word for word from Manhunter...but no...he's terribly terribly miscast as Will Graham. Far far too young(he looks thirty and has like a ten year old kid, he's retired from the FBI...after what, 3 months? You need at least five years experience with a law enforcement agency to join the FBI,unless you're a tech, so, what... was he part of 21 Jump Street?) It's not really Norton's fault(well actually, it is,he didn't have to take the role) but he just seems to lack any conviction as this character. I did not for one minute believe a single thing he said. He just said the words, in a sub-Harrison-Ford-in-Blade-Runner-Monotone. To top it all off, his character is a wimp and not that bright. Every big clue is dropped in Graham's lap by Lector or someone else. For all the importance of Graham's character, he's given barely anything to emote.
So this is a pan, right? If I don't like Edward Norton, of all people, in this movie, then the movie itself must suck, right?
Nope. From the moment Ralph Fiennes hits the screen as Francis Dolarhyde, the movie is riveting. It's not Manhunter, but it's own thing. The screenwriter, Ted Tally, goes back to the source novel, and fleshes out Dolarhyde. We see how he became what he is, and what it is he thinks he's becoming. Dolarhyde here seems more menacing, more lethal than Tom Noonan. There is a pretty clear Psycho riff in Dolarhyde's childhood, but it doesn't matter. Hitchcock didn't get the copyright on weird, abusive mother figures.
Hopkins' Lector gets much more screen time(though still limited) in this film than Brian Cox' interpretation did in Manhunter, and Hopkins uses it well here, coming off as a master manipulator even behind bars, a modern day Dr. Mabuse. He dominates his scenes playing against Norton, and we see far more of the Lector he portrayed in Silence.
The supporting cast is uniformly excellent, though no real standouts. Philip Seymour Hoffman in the role of tabloid journalist Freddie Lounds seems more bored than sleazy, Keitel is matter-of-fact, Emily Watson radiates beauty.
As for Brett Ratner...well, he must've watched a LOT of John Ford movies because the directing style here is as basic as it gets. The score by Danny Elfman is terrific, old-style Hollywood music. Played very loudly, it annoys a little, but still, good work.
Ted Tally's screenplay...well, about 4/5ths of this movie was almost line for line what was on screen in Manhunter. Maybe they're both closely following the book, but I would get annoyed if I had to transcribe dialogue. A little variety wouldn't of hurt. The single major change to the movie is the ending, in which, when Dolarhyde is about to kill Reba McClane(Watson), he sets a fire, apparantly kills himself, after which she escapes. Of course,he has faked his death, and attacks will graham's family. This course of events,while entertaining on the screen,is just plain cheesy. EVERY SINGLE MOVIE with a murder in it has the scene in which the guy realizes the killer's in his house and he has to find and stop him, while the killer knows where the hero is. And the inevitable final return after half a dozen rounds of ammunition have pulverized the killer's body.
Bottom line, Manhunter is a classic film. Red Dragon is an above average thriller. It's the worst of the Hannibal Lector films, but is still worth a viewing. Manhunter is the plucky, low-budget intelligent version, Red Dragon the blandly-directed, high budgeted, power casted money machine. Which is not necessarily a bad thing.
theblueman
Hmmmm... I see a pattern emerging. Norton miscast. Fiennes excellent. Hopkins decent but redundant. And I’ve always had problems with the “dumb slasher movie” ending of Tally’s script, although a good director should be able to make it play. Like I said... I’m curious and ready to see the film, and wanna thank both Beaks and blueman for sending their thoughts in so very, very promptly...
"Moriarty" out.
