Gene Hackman’s death at 95 years old earlier this year was something of a gut punch, and not merely for the terrible circumstances under which he and wife Betsy Arakawa passed away. Hackman had, of course, already retired from acting in 2004, and taken with him at that time not only his gravitas, individual talents and ability to elevate a scene, but also just a greater sense that a certain old Hollywood style and spirit he embodied — of dedication to craft married to a sense of collaborative spirit and a grind-it-out personal work ethic — was out the window and gone away, replaced by noisier and more omnipresent forms of celebrity. His death, however, made that sense of loss permanent.
It’s a treat, then, to go back and enjoy Hackman in something like 1975’s Night Moves, new to Blu-ray recently from Criterion. A twisty, stylish and unapologetically dark-hearted (though not bleak) neo-noir detective story, the movie plants its roots deeply in character and asks the audience to invest with them and take the ride.
Directed by Arthur Penn from a script by Alan Sharp, the film stars Hackman as Los Angeles private investigator Harry Moseby, who used to be a professional football player. On the heels of finding out his wife Ellen (Susan Clark) is cheating on him, Harry accepts a case from aging actress Arlene Iverson (Janet Ward) to track down and return home her 16-year-old daughter Delly Grastner (Melanie Griffith), whose ample trust fund bankrolls Arlene’s boozily comfortable lifestyle.
On a tip Harry heads to Florida Keys, where in short order he finds Delly living with her stepfather Tom (John Crawford) and his new girlfriend Paula (Jennifer Warren) in an uncomfortably weird love triangle. Delly threatens Harry and refuses to return to California with him, but Harry lets Tom know that it’s in everyone’s best interests if he helps ensure Delly complies with her mother’s request. Delly eventually accedes, and Harry delivers her to Arlene. On the surface, the case appears over. But when a body turns up, Harry is compelled to re-engage with the case, which has no shortage of cross-conflicted and compromised parties.
Night Moves is interesting to consider in comparison to a film like Chinatown, which actually shot at the same time (Faye Dunaway turned down a role in Night Moves to shoot Roman Polanski’s film instead), but released earlier since Night Moves was held up allegedly in part to allow for Griffith to be 17 years old when the movie with her nude scenes was released. Penn’s film is not that movie’s equal, either in terms of construction or overall exactitude of craftsmanship, but there’s a similarity in tone and moral outlook. Both films capture with great, shrugging clarity the decay and cynicism of the end of the Vietnam era. And both feature characters attempting to do right, even as they make (sometimes knowingly) bad decisions themselves.
Michael Small’s string-forward score, shot through with an intriguing mixture of dark brooding and Afro-Brazilian rhythms, keeps things lively and helps imbue the picture with a somewhat offbeat sensibility (there’s no Bob Seger tune here, sorry — that wouldn’t arrive until the following year). Cinematographer Bruce Surtees, meanwhile, does a good job of juggling a wide range of lighting schemes, balancing the natural sunlight of Florida locations with more shadowed interiors.
Coming on the heels of The French Connection, Scarecrow, The Conversation and French Connection II (plus many other movies — Hackman’s filmography in the early to mid-1970s was no joke), Night Moves connects as a slice of cinematic mood pie from an actor in his prime. While the movie doesn’t necessarily generate a lot of suspense in the conventional sense, Harry is a fascinating and ever-watchable character because of not only some of his scripted contradictions, but the way in which Hackman brings them to the surface, with a light, non-showy touch. The film’s ending lands with a certain poignancy, and elicits respect in its refusal to deliver much of a happy ending for anyone.
Criterion’s Night Moves Blu-ray release arrives in a new 4K digital restoration, created from the original 35mm camera negative and with a Technicolor-dye transfer print for additional color reference. It’s presented in a 1.85:1 aspect ratio with an uncompressed monaural soundtrack that, obviously and understandably, is quite front-loaded. The look and visual feel of the picture is inviting, and contrast is stable throughout.
Bonus features are anchored by an audio commentary track from Matthew Asprey Gear, the author of Moseby Confidential, a book about both the film itself and also the rise of neo-noir that it helped spawn. It is engaging throughout. While Criterion commentary tracks are very rarely vibes-based, this one is especially well-researched. Gear knows the material backwards and forwards, and in detailing the creative differences of opinion between Penn and Sharp he is able to shine a light on how a bit of tension is not in and of itself always a bad thing in moviemaking.
Actress Warren sits for a new audio-only interview, wherein she discusses swapping roles in the movie, her working experiences with Penn and Hackman, and her views about Warner Bros.’ marketing failures. (Despite solid reviews and presence of a star on the rise, the movie was not commercially successful upon its release — though it perhaps suffered the misfortune of being released less than a month after two other higher-profile films in which Hackman starred).
There are two interviews with director Penn — one from a 1975 episode of Cinema Showcase, and another as an excerpt from the 1995 documentary Arthur Penn: A Love Affair With Film. The former is the meatier and more substantive of the two, somewhat paradoxically. One would think that the passage of time would have afforded a more comprehensive and discerning assessment of the work, or perhaps an unpacking of that conflict with Sharp. Alas, that’s not really in the offering here.
In addition to the movie’s trailer, there is also a contemporaneous behind-the-scenes featurette from the location shoot on Sanibel Island, and a nice accordion-folded booklet featuring an insightful essay by journalist and Mike Nichols: A Life author Mark Harris.
