August 20, 2020

The Usual Suspects.


Review #1508: The Usual Suspects.

Cast: 
Stephen Baldwin (Michael McManus), Gabriel Byrne (Dean Keaton), Benicio del Toro (Fred Fenster), Kevin Pollak (Todd Hockney), Kevin Spacey (Roger "Verbal" Kint), Chazz Palminteri (Dave Kujan), Pete Postlethwaite (Kobayashi), Suzy Amis (Edie Finneran), Giancarlo Esposito (Jack Baer), and Dan Hedaya (Sergeant Jeff Rabin) Produced and Directed by Bryan Singer (#008 - X-Men, #010 - X2, #584 - X-Men: Days of Future Past, and #1077 - Superman Returns)

Review: 
"I believe that as a writer and a director, you're only providing the skeleton of a character, and you're hiring actors to fill it out."

It's easy to make a film people remember when you have assembled a script worth thinking about. Christopher McQuarrie spent his first few years out of high school (spent with classmate Singer) doing some traveling and work in a boarding school and a detective agency. His first foray into film came with Public Access (which he co-wrote with Singer) in 1993, which he co-wrote with Singer and Michael Feit Dougan. The film did win some attention from critics (such as with the Sundance Film Festival), but it ultimately did not find much of an audience to play to. The thing that sparked interest in writing the film came about from seeing a title of a Spy magazine column that was "The Usual Suspects" (which also happens to be a classic line from Casablanca), and a casual conversation about doing a film with that title led later on to Singer asking if he could write a film for him with that in mind (since there was interest by investors interested in their last work for a $3 million project). McQuarrie, working at a law firm at the time, found inspiration in a small white room that looked like one used for interrogation, with this springing to mind a character who talks too much; names for some of the characters would come from stuff revolving around McQuarrie in his workplace, such as the interrogator (named for a office manager at the firm) and even Keyser Söze (although the last name was changed from real life).

The most interesting parts of the film involve those little moments of interaction between the core cast that we follow along with in its story, more so in the first half than the second. It is Byrne who we gravitate to in terms of interest, one who just grabs at you with a flickering intensity that certain inspires a certain kind of imagination as to what he really is, since he is the figure we see in the midst of events that had started the film anyway. Baldwin follows along with useful pacing that is quick on the trigger in high-temperedness. Del Toro does fine with a share of eccentricity that lends curiosity for what really seems to be a plain character on paper. Pollak proves worthy of a few cheeky smiles in short fused-temperament, while Palminteri proves a worthy one to contrast against the core group of seediness with coarse charm. Spacey is the key to plenty in the film, since he is the one we are listening to and viewing within the background of the perspective, and he does a fairly decent job in unassuming nature, useful to the film is what it shows without seeming like an extra presence, verbalizing himself with effective weaving.

You know those movies that people say they would like for you to see in how it plays out? There are some films that people can really, really get into, ones that can lend plenty of discussion for how something "just works", something far more than what one could assume from a noir mystery and so on and so on. Honestly, the one sticking point for me when it comes to this film is that I wish it was better than I expected. What was there to expect? The climax at the end isn't exactly spoiler-free from pop culture, but it generally does help to not read too much into an ending for a film before you watch it anyway (look, either Keyser Söze will be revealed to us in the end as either someone already established or he won't be at all, it isn't exactly more than a binary choice). The film relies on this twist because of its perspective that it wants to tell within its confines of a story that perhaps works for numerous viewings, one might say (it has been described as Double Indemnity meets Rashomon). Well, that doesn't really work if you don't find its shaggy dog kind of storytelling that particularly highly to begin with, a big trick to play on the audiences. The cast ultimately plays into part of how this film falls into what I like to call the "five stages of movie classic disappointment" (in which one does when they are faced with a movie people like but you don't, which obviously differs from the inverse of normal movie disappointment, namely in paragraphs). In this never-tested method, they would represent denial, in that I am believing that because they do pretty well, I cling to the idea that this really will be a great film. Anger (or in this case, frustration, because who really gets mad at being tricked by a film?) presumably kicks in right around when the story starts to teeter a bit too long in making me keep caring to the inevitable stop. Bargaining comes around in the whiny voice of consciousness that argues that wants me to compromise (in other words, not just immediately say this film isn't quite right without a little bit of digging) and think of it as "good, but not quite perfect" because maybe the climax really will prove itself. This leads to that fourth stage of depression (disappointment), where I just sit through the motions of how it really chooses to go the way it goes and sighing all the way, with that fifth stage standing right there practically mocking me when I finish that last train of thought.

This isn't to say I hated the film, because I actually did find it okay in making a fair piece of curiosity with a few highlights within conventional folks made fair through the actors (such as the scene where they all have to say a line in a police lineup), but in my view its magic trick leaves me feeling indifferent rather than astonishment. Pull that tablecloth from under the table all you want, but that doesn't make it a cool trick if I can see the way you "did it" coming.  Conventional can seem old hat and tired, but you know what was better in its portrayal of details and chase in the same year that this came out? Coincidence or not, that film is Seven (1995), which also happened to feature Spacey in a key role. Why stop there? Why not just chuck along a better film in dealing with stringed-together storytelling in Reservoir Dogs (1992)? Look, sometimes a film just doesn't have the reaching power it thinks it does, and that just falls to the perspective of the person who just saw it, and I just thought it was okay. I can understand the accolades and praise it received from certain audiences (which included an Academy Award for its screenplay, beating films of that year such as Braveheart and Toy Story) while also reaching the final stage of movie-classic-disappointment-grief: Acceptance that it just isn't completely what I think of when I think of a classic, and I move on to the next one.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

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