The
gangster genre is inarguably one of the most prolific and renowned groups of
film in cinematic history. We enjoy spending a few hours in the lives of
people without rules. We delight in being able to visit violence upon
those who transgress upon us. Ultimately, living vicariously through
criminals is a shared fantasy that is both malleable and natural. Crime
stories, like horror, have many different approaches and styles. Coppola's
operatic Godfather contrasts the realistic grime of The Friends of
Eddie Coyle. The Sopranos' long form surreal character study
is offset by the viciousness of De Palma's Scarface. Scorsese's
mafia triptych, Goodfellas, Casino, and The Irishman
ushers viewers through three stages of a criminal's life, and the list goes on
and on and on. The Coen Brothers, with their third feature film
annihilated these expectations and suppositions with Miller's Crossing.
Based heavily on Dashiel Hammet's novels, the
Coen's script takes the noirish skeleton of The Glass Key as a vehicle
to nowhere. Filmed in New Orleans, the unnamed town in which the story
takes place is both a dream and nightmare, a place within the American
subconscious. Gabriel Byrne stars as Tom Reagan, the eye of the storm.
Tom is a reflection of the world of Miller's Crossing, an enigma whose
history and motivations are mysteries, even to his boss Leo (Albert
Finney).
They are supported
by a legendary cast of character actors who all portray the lost souls of the
Coen's design. John Polito, Steve Buscemi, Marcia Gay Harden, John
Turturro, and J.E. Freeman all bring considerable force to their performances
which coalesce to create a mafioso purgatory. The streets are lonely
except when there is violence. Forests are devoid of animal life and dream
logic is an undercurrent of Tom's mysterious agenda. There are virtually no people present, except
those who deal in darkness. This is the first of many of the Coen's films
in which they explore a protagonist coming to terms with the world they inhabit
and, despite the noirish veneer, Miller's Crossing may be one of the
most existential explorations of their filmography.
Barry Sonnenfield's gorgeous cinematography could fill a book of art, echoing
John Alcott's masterful lensing of Barry Lyndon. There's a
pastoral effect that juxtaposes the unbelievably American visuals (filled with
violence and indulgence) from Rockwell's version of Americana and the result is
sublime. One of the most vital accoutrements is Carter Burwell’s
fantastic score. Burwell learned how to create orchestral music
specifically for the film and aided in recruiting Irish singer Frank Patterson
for the infamous Danny Boy scene. The final result is a masterful
approach to an overdone genre.
Now available for digital rental and in a pristine Criterion Collection Blu-Ray, Miller's Crossing is an avant garde crime story with heavy themes that at first appear impenetrable. A strange story in a strange world filled with memorable and often dangerous personas, this is the film that signaled what was to come from the duo brothers: A series of undeniably complex, thoughtful, and quirky stories about perfectly flawed characters in a variety of haunting worlds and madcap situations, and this film is the flagship.
--Kyle
Jonathan