MUBI

“He’d kill us if he got the chance.” Rarely has the meaning and reading of a sentence meant so much to a movie as it does here in this Francis Ford Coppola classic, made between Godfather films, about the swirling, spiraling paranoia of a sound bugger tasked with a no-questions-asked job and it’s potential dangerous repercussions. Ritualistic and precise, with European pacing and mood, and one of the great Gene Hackman performances of the 70’s.

A slowly unraveling thriller that reveals more and more with each new scene and all leads up to the stunning, haunting finale. I thought it was really ingenious the way that Coppola revealed more about Harry’s past, the plot of the film and the conversation at certain intervals and each new reveal hit me like a brick. There is a theme of repetition used throughout the film that really added to the paranoia and fear of everything. This is mainly seen through the score and the repeated use of the actual conversation. Every time we hear one of these things pop up again it creates a lump in my throat and has me holding my breath to see what is about to be revealed. Coppola added a very dedicated feel to everything and it shows that he educated himself on surveillance techniques and made everything as realistic as possible. This also helped with Gene Hackman’s very authentic performance which floored me since I’m generally not a fan of his. Harrison Ford was also very impressive. It’s a taut thriller with a twist that shook me to the core and a certain scene involving blood in a toilet that had my heart stopped.

Lets get the definitive statements out of the way early. Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation is one of the finest thrillers ever made. In terms of thrills, in terms of originality, in terms of bravery, it stands on its own as a uniquely powerful film. Its premise is simple, concise and true and the craft employed in its making is truly masterful. Yet, as it currently stands the film is greatly unappreciated by most film enthusiasts. Sadly the film is a victim of circumstance, as it has the particularly difficult task of being the bridge on writer director Francis Ford Coppola’s filmography linking The Godfather and The Godfather Part II. As such, film historians have been so busy heralding Coppola’s exploits with the Corleones, that they allowed what is probably his best film slip them by. However, The Conversation is not a film of epic scale or grand thematic vision, it is an intense character study. Yet, it success is so considerable that it may even outshine all the other entries into the Coppola cannon.

This is the story of surveillance expert Harry Caul, played by Gene Hackman. Amongst those in his field, Caul is legendary; a man notorious for his ability and his insistence on using all his own, home made equipment. Harry is a man of extreme secrecy, a snoop with a crippling fear of being snooped upon. He seems unable to make any deep personal or emotional connections, and he is the man we are about to spend two hours with.

His current assignment is to infiltrate the conversation of a young married woman and her lover. Harry picks up the audio, but when listening to it closely Caul hears something that frightens him, shakes him, sends into into a state of frenzied paranoia. He knows what he heard, but are his fears justified or a result of his seemingly compulsive paranoia? We as an audience follow Harry as he attempts to unravel the underlying plot to what seemed at first to be a mundane day’s work.

Coppola’s control of tension is relentless and thrilling. In terms of goals set and achieved, this may very well be his finest effort. He plays with reality and imagination in a particularly blunt and effective fashion, presenting scenes numerous times with varying outcomes. Coppola waits until we lose our footing on reality and then pulls the rug out from under us in a way which is devastating and effective. Yet, this is not a film of twists and turns, but rather of developments. No dues ex machina to be found here.

There is not a wasted frame of film in this one, and the sound design and editing are so intricate and precise that it digs deep under your skin. The emotions The Conversation inspires, the claustrophobia an the alienation, do not fade away with the end credits, they fester in your mind and stay with you.

This is not a jigsaw puzzle thriller, it is a trip into the psyche of a fairly disturbed individual. Hackman, one of the finest of all actors, gives a performance that is so well studied and quiet that you really lose the movie star beneath that bald head and those thick glasses. The film’s power relies on the character of Caul and the acting and writing cut deep, revealing a man uncomfortable even in his own skin.

The film is thrilling, heart stopping, frightening yes, all those things. But it operates more importantly as a meditation on personal privacy and psychological paranoia, right down to its haunting final image, which contains more sorrow, more anguish and more tortuous claustrophobia than any movie you’re likely to see.

One of Francis Ford Coppola’s many masterpieces, this took the idea of voyeurism to an entirely new level. It’s almost scary to see how incredibly easy it is to drop in on someone’s private life. The whole tone of the movie is downright disturbing. From the bizarre dark spaces to the ominous sounds, it’s never apparent what will happen. Gene Hackman gives one of his greatest performances, next to The French Connection it’s my absolute favorite. He plays a character so devoid of affection, yet somehow you feel compassion for him from the get go. No matter how many times you see it, there’s always something new to find.

Shame and repentance are the shadows cast on those who gain notoriety through the evil they seed. Most of the times willfully and many others while just attempting to keep routine alive –achieving in the process extraordinary and tragic results–, people obscured by their sins are sometimes inhabitants of a silent space where they await, hopeful for a chance to redeem themselves while avoiding the mouths full of eulogy like The Conversation’s Harry Caul.

Brilliantly played by Gene Hackman, Harry is an introspective wire tapper whose psyche rejects the fame his work has given him among colleagues: he’s irrepressibly tightlipped about his inner self due to a case 6 years ago that caused the disturbing murder of three people; he lives alone and seems disconnected from the ones he knows, finding the only way out for his inner sorrow in playing the saxophone to the sound of jazz records.

This complex internal universe drenched in imperceptible tears is undesirably invited –actually forced– to be vomited out after Harry’s latest job: listening to a conversation between two young lovers who walk in circles in a park while discussing a meeting that could bring about fatal consequences, a situation that triggers Harry’s deep Catholicism and raises his concern for the safety of the couple.

As it progresses, the whole story seems to become into a meditation on the effects of betrayal, a feeling deeply rooted within the American audiences who were just coming out of the Watergate trauma, although Coppola’s intention was far from reviving the controversy, but rather dealing with the idea of reality contradicting perception while the listener becomes aware of his status as a mere pawn. Not even does the research on the wiretapping devices seen in the film –a fundamental element in the storyline– have any correlation to the Watergate scandal since The Conversation was completed before Richard Nixon resigned.

The themes of the film are immediately brought to surface in the opening sequence, which starts with a bird’s eye shot slowly closing in on the amorphous pedestrians that walk randomly in the park where the prowled couple is being monitored. Soon we get to distinguish Harry Caul’s figure among the crowd, being followed by a mime, possibly a tone setting decision which acts as a sentence of what the character’s quest for redemption will transform into.

The disturbing nature of the twists that leave Harry under surveillance are toned up by David Shire’s haunting piano soundtrack, which reflects the melancholic state of Harry’s mind and adds up to the great amount of detail that empowers Harry as the absolute narrator.

His omnipresence in every scene proves that the storytelling belongs to Harry, whose deceived perspective is shared by the audience even in his fantasizing and dreams, in which he metaphorically leans down begging for a drop of understanding from the characters he’s been spying on.

The photography by Bill Butler is absolutely interpenetrative since it puts the audience on the side of the voyeurs, injecting empathy on it and exploiting its curiosity while shocking the viewers as much as it does to the story’s main character. A clear example would be the initial sequence, in which sound acts as a factor of tension and also exclusion, because the editing of the tapes hasn’t been done and the conversation is blurry and intriguing since it sounds innocent and inoffensive.

The cast is perfect as it evolves into a creature that craves for Harry’s soul with a vengeance; whether it is to use him, watch him, betray him or compete with him, the monster’s tusks made up of familiar faces, become mirages of the people Harry thought he knew; not even the silent priest he confesses to –the only one who knows of his problems– seems to be of any help. Harry is literally alone among the known strangers portrayed by the great John Cazale or the recently met and intimidating Harrison Ford.

Coppola’s directing and writing are very smooth as they build up the tension and explore the ambience perceived by Harry through misty developments within the story that recur to constant editing contrivances to portray the character’s obsessions and repressed guilt. In this aspect, it is paramount to mention Walter Murch’s impressive editing, which helps the story to unfold in flashbacks that become corrected overtime until truth becomes painfully visible.

After the credits roll, the viewer will discover that The Conversation is not just a trip into the electric pool of invasive gadgets and deceitful intrigue of a wire tapper’s life; it’s a plunge into the fragmented speech of the troubled mind of an individual haunted by ghosts bred from the blood of his sins, while attempting to reconcile with his faith, his environment, and ultimately, himself.

Great film about paranoia. Gene Hackman carries the film so well. The supporting cast is good too but it’s mainly Hackman that impresses. The film is very well written and in the later scenes becomes very intense. Regardless of all that though, it was the score that stood out most for me. It was sublime! It worked perfectly to help create a wonderful feel of intrigue that the film has. Coppola is so great with getting a film’s tone spot on. I wouldn’t say I loved this film but I certainly liked it a lot and I think re watches will only make me like it more and more.

The Conversation is a very good thriller and a very good character study, but for me, it ultimately falls short of achieving greatness. Coppola has acknowledged the influence Blowup had on this film, but the most directly correlated scene (Thomas/Caul’s analyses of the photos/tapes) doesn’t live up to the original. And the fact that the most important line of the movie is literally changed just feels cheap – Antonioni didn’t need to use a trick like that. My quibbles aside, it’s quite good.