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Murder Is still ors" the Constitution requires for an nourishment; they remain the most treas- the tie that binds impeachment conviction, what high ured set-pieces of our last collective crime could possibly be left? Only mur- folklore. Commissions may come and go By Frank Rich der. Even the White House realizes that talking of rash gunmen acting on their killing—at least the killing of someone own, but we continue to turn the facts If it were not for a faith in con- white who has bad his or her name in the over in our minds, clinging to alternative paper—is a crime to which the entire spiracies, real or imagined, I wonder if explanations for the tragedies, looking anything would hold these United States country can still relate. If Nixon were to for the conspiracies that can provide the reveal such a deed, he wouldn't have to logic we crave as a society. Not that any of America together. In a land where the joker with a nefarious plot to peddle can daily motions of our lives defy any no- drop another shoe. We'd have a conspir- automatically win his way into our tion of rationality—whether we are buy- acy of a piece with all the others, a tie hearts. Surely, for instance, no one has ing inflationary meat in a supermarket, that would bind us all together; we could smoking "lemon menthol" cigarettes or look to the Bicentennial as a celebration much use for Mark Lane anymore, that of union rather than a funeral of frac- man who is blessed with the singular watching Hollywood Squares on tele- tionalized despair. vision—it becomes a psychological ne- talent of making second-gun theories Such a happy ending is, at this boring. Last fall a fictional movie based cessity that we try to make sense out of writing, elusive, and, in lieu of evidence on his JFK-assassination theories, the the big front-page events of our common that Nixon instructed Dita Beard to experience. Given the stuff of which his- David Miller-Dalton Trumbo Executive plant a bomb on Mrs. Howard Hunt's Action, put people asleep from coast to tory has been made during the past 15 years—the Kennedy and King assassina- plane or once employed Donald coast. (Similarly, a strident film docu- tions, the Vietnam war, the ascendancy DeFreeze as a valet, we must fall back on mentary on Bobby's demise, The Second of Richard Nixon—it becomes clear that the two Kennedy assassinations for Gun, died quietly on the box-office vine.) only conspiracies can explain all the gro- tesqueries away. We erect and cling to vast, convoluted webs of villainy and deceit much the way the French once placed their hope in cathedrals. Conspiracies are the opiate of the people, both on the left (whose grim analysis of the origins of Vietnam was validated by The Pentagon Papers) and on the right (which actually conspired to manufacture conspiracies, like the "Chi- cago 7," so that the public would be able to rationalize and punish antiwar dem- onstrators). But some conspiracies are better than others, with the best of all being those that involve murder, espe- cially the murder of Americans of some celebrity. (If you haven't figured out why the Ellsberg foreign-policy revelations had such a short media shelf-life, it's because a plot to murder Asians thou- sands of miles away just doesn't have that "down home" appeal.) Let's face it, Watergate itself won't completely galva- nize the proverbial Peones of our society until that moment if and when the Nixon administration can be linked inextri- cably to some (literally) deadly crime of the century. Indeed, that's what the Pres- ident's legal defense is all about: since James St. Clair has made it perfectly clear that neither obstruction of justice nor breaking and entering nor any other known executive malfeasance can qual- The always electric Warren Beatty as an Investigative journalist in Pakiaa's ify as the "high crimes and misdemean- The Parallax View. 1-,71 7 ] f G ZisTRIB,JT\ 01,1 SS NEW TIMES THIS Fi • C-) Tj g- uQ CT Czoffne._ izZ, \Jt EV/S 11.1117FM,

And yet if someone can come along and the loyalty of antisocial people," and climax, which by definition sets up the serve up the familiar elements of our Paula Prentiss as a neurotic newswomtui expectation of a sniping, does seem ghoulish dreams with freshness and who at one point assures the hero that uninspired, no matter how much the two pizazz, in the form of either entertain- she "has never killed [herself] success- films' resolutions may differ. (Coinci- ment or journalism, it behooves us to ftdly." dentally, Richard Condon, from whose line up at his door. That, I believe, will My complaint about The Paral- novel that earlier cold-war gem was be the case with The Parallax View, a lax View, and I do have a serious one, adapted, has written a fabulous new classy if not exactly brilliant slab of as- transcends matters that pertain to a few thriller, Winter Kills, about a JFK-breed sassination suspense-drama that is direc- gnawing details that at times threaten to assassination after which some witnesses tor Alan Pakula's first thriller since undermine the movie's overall credi- die, etc., etc.. . . Are we in the midst of a Kluft. bility. I'm more concerned about the literary conspiracy here, too?) Working from a screenplay by promise of the film's guiding metaphor, In any case, I doubt that these David Oiler and Lorenzo Semple Jr. that of the title itself, which implies an criticisms will matter to most audiences (from a novel by Loren Singer), Pakula approach to the material that Pakula who elect to see The Parallax View. builds his movie on a premise so familiar doesn't always bring off. While the word Though it lacks the breadth of those we can taste it: a RFK-style senator is "parallax" (a noun, not an adjective, by great thrillers to which we can return shot during a campaign appearance . . . the way) aptly sums up the radical shift again and again even after we know how a distinguished, grey-haired panel of in perspective we get on the film's final the ending turns out, this drawback will heavies decrees the deed the work of a scene through its smashingly ironic out- only have a bearing on the movie's for- mad-dog assassin (a busboy) who was come, Pakula doesn't consistently rein- tunes at that time when our nonfiction not a part of "any wider conspiracy" . . force his work's ambiguity (and thus its conspiracies outstrip it; when that hap- three years later a hip investigative re- suspense) along the way. In The Parallax pens, all but the best intrigue entertain- porter (Warren Beatty), the kind who View, everybody is pretty much whom ments will be obsolete. Meanwhile, until wears his chutzpah like a badge, realizes they appear to be, and the crucial ques- the stain of blood spills over Watergate, that a lot of witnesses have died under tion of the story boils down to who is or until we find a missing link that chains mysterious circumstances and sets out to going to do what to whom and do it first. all our conspiracies together (I'm hoping crack the case. Although there's nothing What's missing is some equivalent to the that Richard Nixon and Jack Ruby were new about this basic plan—which is tape recording of Coppola's The Conver- fraternity brothers at Whittier College smartly unloaded in the film's first five sation (still the best conspiratorial myself), a movie like The Parallax View minutes—the story soon takes off in ex- thriller, indeed the best thriller of any can go a long way toward keeping the plosive directions; Pakula detonates a variety, so far this year) or to the charac- home fires burning. series of loud and colorful narrative fire- ters played by Eva Marie Saint and Kim crackers (involving everything from Novak in Hitchcock movies like North Le Peat Theatre de Jean Re- bomb scares to raging floods) that only by Northwest and Vertigo—evidence or noir, which was made for French tele- someone as jaded as Gordon Liddy people or objects that we can view and vision in 1969 when its creator was 75, is could fail to eat up. review at constantly shifting angles the purest distillation imaginable of a At the glorious center of the con- throughout the film. Pakula's climax is a sensibility I have no hesitation about spiracy that Pakula gradually unfolds is jolt, all right, but it snaps rather than calling the greatest in the history of mov- a mysterious corporation (financed by resonates: it's an ending that wraps up ies. indeed the aesthetic air of this "little ITT? the CIA? the USSR? the UN?—it and elucidates some of the movie's last- theater" is so rarefied that audiences doesn't make any difference) that per- hour events, but it's not a window unfamiliar with the rest of Renoir's ca- forms a most distasteful service for its through which we might examine many reer may find it a bit baffling. Like the clients. It would be cruel of me to indi- of the characters and practically the en- late films of other masters of the me- cate here exactly what the business of tire drama in a wholly new and startling dium— Hitchcock's Topaz, Chaplin's A that faceless organization is, but,suffice it light. There were times when I felt the King in New York, Ford's Seven Women to say, the nature of the evil involved director might be heading along this or Hawks' El Dorado (to name a few of accounts for much of The Parallax higher path—particularly in the opening my favorites)—this one unfolds in serene View's appeal. So does Warren Beatty, a sequence, in which we see the assassina- and muted terms, visual signals that have force to reckon with in his own right. tion site, the Seattle Space Needle, as become discrete with the passing of time. While his performance in this picture is measured against both a totem pole and While one doesn't have to experience an unlikely to dissipate the memory of his the squalor of the city's raunchy down- entire oeuvre to appreciate an artist's great contributions to Arthur Penn's toWn; soon, though, he retreats to easier final, most highly stylized achievement, Bonnie and Clyde or Robert Altman's effects, such as documenting the steely such knowledge can enhance the pleas- McCabe and Mrs. Miller, the truth is that corridors of sterile skyscrapers (also ure—whether one is looking at the most even under these relatively undemand- done by Coppola in The Conversation). abstract black-and-white geometry of a ing circumstances, which by and large I'm also a little disappointed at Mondrian canvas, reading a James novel require him to play himself, Beatty Pakula's failure to restrain himself from like The Golden Bowl or watching a showers the screen with a magnetic vital- using a political rally at a large conven- movie like Le Petit Theatre. ity that cannot be matched by any other tion hall for his closing scene. It's true This time around, Renoir graces American movie actor. Pakula has also that he gets some fresh mileage out of the film with his own physical self—now blessed him with the services of an en- this oldie-but-goodie—there's a lovely a wizened shadow of the figure who tirely pleasing supporting cast, which in- aerial shot of a corpse-laden golf cart filled the role of Octave in The Rules of cludes Hume Cronyn as a cynical news- zigzagging among some red, white and the Game (1939). Introducing each of his paper editor, Walter McGinn as a blue banquet tables—but an invocation three theater pieces (plus a song inter- spooky functionary who likes to "earn of The Manchurian Candidates classic lude by Jeanne Moreau that is, pare-

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doxically enough, at once satirical and overriding message about the good old housekeeper who slowly but surely wistful) with a few low-key remarks, he vanishing American landscape, besides whips the family into a frenzy of leering reminds us constantly of the creative being a cliche in the first place, is ver- sexual anticipation. force that stands behind the enterprise's bally made flesh in dialogue that might No one is more afflicted than the magic as well as of that distance which give even a Reader's Digest addict heart- middle son, the dour 14-year-old Nino separates the stage from the real world. burn. (Alessandro Momo), who engages ser- Although there is a great deal to admire Having said all that, 1 will now vant Angela (Laura Antonelli) in a and enjoy in his first two films-within- actually go on to add that this picture has psycho-sexual tug of war over which he the-film—a Hans Christian Andersen some refreshing and original touches, eventually loses control. The idea that an Christmas parable and an ersatz musical nearly all of which are to be found along adolescent boy might lose his virginity about a bourgeois housewife's love affair the periphery of the project's main with an older woman is a fantasy that has with an electric floor waxer (her put- events. Cimino usually does have some- turned up recently in such widely differ- upon husband pleads for "deliverance thing to say or show about the often ent films as Bogdanovich's The Last Pic- from all mechanical noises")—Le Petit crabby, sometimes forlorn people who ture Show, Mulligan's Summer of '42 and Theatre does reach an identifiable peak inhabit the small Idaho and Montana Malle's Murmur of the Heart; I don't in the concluding episode. towns where the movie is set: an aging know how common or valid this coital "The King of Y vetot," as the gas-pump attendant (Dub Taylor, natch) permutation is outside of these pictures third section is titled, takes place in who shouts a erypto- populist spiel at his and Penthouse's letters column, but France's resplendently sunlit south, the credit-card customers; a maniacal maybe the sheer eroticism of it all can be setting of both the director's own 1959 cracker whose souped-up car has a trunk its own reward. To this end, Malizia Defeunner sur L'Herbe and his father full of live rabbits; a sullen Western features a strip scene that should be any Auguste's post-impressionist paintings. Union office manager who spends his male masturbator's delight and, in the This landscape, where verdant trees nights reading newspaper-encased girlie person of Antonelli, Samperi has found seem to bristle eternally in playful magazines in the fluorescent light of his a top-flight sexual presence who also breezes, proves ideal for this story of the storefront. happens to be a gifted comedienne. victory of love over recklessness and convention: the organic poetry of nature Filmed on location in its actual wipes out whatever pettiness blights setting, Uganda, and employing real-life those mortals who venture within its people playing themselves, Two Men of domain. Among the many lovers who Karamofa never fully involves the gambol giddily amidst the vibrant white viewer in its tale of a grudging and in- light of this Midi, the one I most adore is triguingly complex friendship between a Dominique Labourier as a young maid white, African-born British game war- so busy dreaming of a future as a glam- den and the black native who, under a orous courtesan that she forgets little new order, will inherit his job. There are details of her work, like cooking the fish interesting moments here and there in she serves for lunch. Her infectious, non- this microcosmic portrait of colonial- stop laughter cuts to the heart of Renoir's ism's last, almost benign gasp, and one vision—a spirit that shapes every frame gets a taste of the poverty and warfare of Le Petit Theatre so completely that that disfigure a sad, young nation, but one gets the sensation of being awash in filmmakers Natalie and Eugene Jones the sublime currents of the filmmaker's daily too long over Disneyesque shots of soul. wildlife and other scenic or cultural di- Antonelli and Momo in Sampan's Malizia: versions; the movie's central story never everybody ought to have a maid. Michael Cimino, who makes his ' broadens sufficiently beyond its prosaic directorial debut with an action movie Eastwood and Bridges are basics. What's left is a worthy. some- called Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, has amiable enough even though they must times - stagy documentary that lacks frequently speak lines so frought with about half the power of Indian director talent that cannot be denied, even I though it's impossible to say on the basis metaphorical overtones that the words Satyajit Ray's treatment of' similar of this effort just how deep his resources curdle in midair. George Kennedy also themes in a fiction-based movie like are or in what direction he intends to comes along as a bitter and irascible old Days and Nights in the Forest. apply them. Maybe the key to Cimino's gangster who, in one of the movie's more future is that he stop writing screenplays; perversely appealing jokes, employs a John G. Avildsen's The Stoolle his script for Thunderbolt, not to mention familiar line of street-rhyme to tell a is a manipulative and illogical slice of the one he did last year for a Ted Post- smart-alecky five-year-old boy to go do sentimental crap that features comic directed atrocity called Magnum Force, naughty with a certain variety of bird. Jackie Mason in his "dramatic (sic) de- betrays an excessive and at times mo- but" as a lowlife loser, Marcia Jean ronic temperament. That's why this new As Stephen Sondheim once wrote Kurtz as the nice Jewish girl who sets movie fails to satisfy at those levels most in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way him straight in Miami Beach and Dan worth mring about: the caper-suspense to the Forum, "Everybody ought to have Frazer as a cop who chases after them. plot is a hand-me-down; the central a maid.- That's pretty much what Salva- Next to this thing, the director's two emotional relationship between an old tore Samperi's slight but generally enter- previous middle-class exploitation con (Clint Eastwood) and a young one taining comedy, Mallzla (Malice) is all weepers, Joe and Save the Tiger, almost (Jeff Bridges) is spelled out in gooey about: a portly Sicilian widower (Turi seem legit, (Almost, I should say, but not heart-to-heart conversations; and the Ferro) with three sons hires a voluptuous quite.)

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