Characters to Root for in "Dressed to Kill"

Brian De Palma's work as a director is not often discussed these days, which is surprising considering how revered and important he was during the 1970s and 1980s.  I think this is because many of his films were entertaining exercises in style over substance.  You were often dazzled by his story construction and visual imagery, but rarely were you touched by the characters in his films.  For someone who purported to take after Alfred Hitchcock, De Palma rarely had any genuine insight into his characters the way Hitchcock did.  For De Palma, his characters were often plot devices to move the story along.  This is not meant as a condemnation, because I have enjoyed many of his films, but it does explain why his work is not as revered as Hitchcock or other major directors of his generation.  You are rarely touched by any of his films.  However, there is one De Palma film that I do think rises to the level of deserving greater acclaim and that's 1980's "Dressed to Kill."  I think what distinguishes this film from others is that De Palma seems to actually care about his protagonists for a change.  In "Dressed to Kill," he creates a trio of characters that the audience identifies with, and genuinely cares about, to the degree that their deaths and/or survival in the movie really matters for a change.

As has already been noted, "Dressed to Kill" takes on the structure of Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho" in that we begin the movie with the story focused on one blonde woman (Janet Leigh in the Hitchcock movie, Angie Dickinson in the De Palma movie) as she throws caution to the wind and embarks on a series of risky endeavors on the last day of her life that indirectly lead to her premature and violent death at the hands of what appears to be a vicious, violent woman in an enclosed, claustrophobic and otherwise ordinary setting (a shower in "Psycho," an elevator in "Dressed to Kill").  At that point, another blonde (Vera Miles in "Psycho," Nancy Allen in "Dressed to Kill") takes over as the new, heretofore unexpected protagonist who collaborates with a man who had a close relationship with the deceased woman (John Gavin, playing Janet Leigh's lover in "Psycho," Keith Gordon, playing Angie Dickinson's computer geek son in "Dressed to Kill") to solve the mystery and nab the killer.  The killer in each movie turns out to be a man suffering from a split personality disorder that causes them to dress as a woman when they commit their violent crimes (Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates in "Psycho," Michael Caine as the repressed psychiatrist in "Dressed to Kill.")  Even though there are some superficial similarities, "Dressed to Kill" has enough intrigue and nuances to it that it is able to stand on its own as a worthy companion piece to "Psycho," instead of another cheap knock off.

One of the reasons I like "Dressed to Kill" is because Angie Dickinson gives one of her best performances as the sexually repressed upper middle-class housewife Kate Miller.  Dickinson courageously opens the movie with both a nude shower scene (a dream sequence) as well as a racy scene in bed where Kate is making love to her husband.  Later, Dickinson has another racy love scene in the back of a taxi cab with a handsome stranger she has encountered in a museum.  Dickinson gives a brave performance throughout these sequences by conveying the loneliness and longing for affection that Kate experiences in her stifling marriage.  Because De Palma directs these love scenes by lingering on Dickinson's expressive face--which convey her feelings of passion, surprise and delight--these scenes do not come across as tasteless or exploitative.  Instead, they come across as a sincere and sensitive expression of a woman's longing for romantic, emotional, and sexual fulfillment.  The normally feisty and bawdy Dickinson suppresses her typically exuberant screen image to create a confused and sympathetic character that the audience feels compassion for.  Kate is a kind and decent person who is clearly a good wife and mother, but is still attractive and vibrant enough to yearn for love and passion in her life.  Dickinson has a good rapport with Keith Gordon, playing Kate's nerdy son Peter.  The scene where Kate and Peter discuss his latest computer invention at home, while arguing over whether he will accompany her to the museum that day, has an authentic sound to it that makes it completely believable that they are mother and son.  Because Dickinson makes a strong impression as to the quality of person Kate is in a short amount of screen time, it is devastating when she is brutally killed in the elevator.

However, Kate's departure from the film allows for the introduction of another fascinating blonde woman in the movie, streetwise high-class prostitute Liz Blake (Nancy Allen).  As individuals, Kate and Liz are polar opposites.  Unlike Kate's sexually repressed comfortable, suburban middle-class housewife existence, Liz makes her living selling her sexuality.  She is completely at ease with that aspect of her life and does not have the insecurities as to her sexual self-worth the way Kate did.  Liz is an ambitious, proactive woman who lives in a classy Manhattan loft, invests money in art and the stock market, and who likely will move on to another line of work once she decides what she wants to do next with her life.  Liz transcends the stereotypical "hooker with a heart of gold" in that she retains her tough exterior, but still demonstrates evidence of being a decent human being.  The only scene where Kate and Liz meet is in the elevator after Kate has been viciously attacked and is bleeding to death, and when Liz is about to board.  Kate silently reaches out to Liz, begging her to help.  Liz, in shock and horror, reaches out to Kate to try and help her until she notices the killer standing nearby, whereupon she snatches the razor from the ground after the killer has dropped it.  Liz was helpless to do anything to save Kate, but her innate decency allows her to have the courage to reach out to another human being in danger.  This is in contrast to Liz's cowardly middle-aged client from out of town, who ran off in horror the moment he saw the bleeding and wounded Kate.  (Ironically, Liz's attempt to help Kate causes her life to be endangered, as her continued presence at the elevator allows the killer to become aware of her.)  Despite the seedy underbelly of society that Liz has seen in her line of work, she's still a good person.

In some respects, when Kate desperately reaches out to Liz in the elevator, she is metaphorically handing over the care and responsibility of her teenage son Peter to Liz.  From the moment of his mother's death, Peter rises to the occasion by mounting an effective and unconventional investigation to bring the perpetrator to justice.  He proves to be a young man of strength and character that his mother would be proud of.  Peter might be presented in the movie as a nerdy computer-whiz, but Keith Gordon portrays him with sympathy and respect.  There's nothing weird, socially inept or off-putting about his character.  When Peter saves Liz from the killer on the subway, he finds an unlikely ally and surrogate mother/sister in the streetwise hooker.  The Peter/Liz scenes are some of the best moments in "Dressed to Kill."  As he did with Angie Dickinson, Keith Gordon has a wonderful rapport with Nancy Allen that you can believe that these beautiful women are delighted to spend time with him.  In turn, Nancy Allen shows a different side to Liz's personality with her friendship and concern for Peter.  Liz still has a tough edge, but demonstrates a responsible, maternal side that suggests she would make a good mother someday.  The scene where Liz tries to comfort Peter when he expresses how much he misses his mother Kate is quite touching.  You root for Peter and Liz to successfully unmask the killer and survive "Dressed to Kill."

In contrast to the Vera Miles/John Gavin characters in "Psycho," Liz and Peter actually have depth and personality.  Miles and Gavin did fine work in "Psycho," but it's clear in that earlier film that Hitchcock had no interest in who Lila Crane and Sam Loomis were as individuals.  Lila and Sam were there to move the plot along, whereas Liz and Peter look like people whose lives, and friendship, will continue long after "Dressed to Kill" ends.  Because his main protagonists are not mere plot devices, "Dressed to Kill" is perhaps Brian De Palma's masterpiece.  For once, he actually seems interested in his protagonists and cares about what happens to them.  He allows them moments of humor, warmth, and sympathy that help to make them engaging characters.  As a result, Kate's death scene never has the cold, clinical quality that is evident in the brilliantly staged, but impersonal, scenes of violence from other De Palma movies.  It's an emotionally shattering experience after everything the audience has shared with Kate.  And, as mentioned before, you enjoy spending time with Liz and Peter so that the finale, with Liz imperiled with the killer nearby, is incredibly suspenseful.  Kate, Liz, and Peter are all vibrant, interesting people who would be fascinating to watch in other kinds of stories, not just the horror-suspense narrative that De Palma has devised for this film. 

The Hidden Supporting Cast of "Speed 2"

One of my favorite "bad" movies is "Speed 2: Cruise Control" (1997).  Back in the summer of 1997, I was looking forward to seeing the movie for genuine reasons because I had enjoyed the original "Speed" (1994) immensely and also because two of my favorite actresses, Lois Chiles and Colleen Camp, were featured in the supporting cast.  I even had an unexpected phone conversation with Colleen Camp a few months before the movie premiered.  A friend of mine from college, Dave King (God rest his soul), was temping at Tom Rothman's office at 20th Century-Fox one day when Colleen Camp called the office.  Dave, ever the person to seize the moment, told Ms. Camp all about how I was a big fan of hers and he convinced her to let me interview her for an article about her career.  The next time I spoke with Dave on the phone, he gave me Colleen Camp's phone number to call.  I phoned her to introduce myself and was greeted with a very enthusiastic and fast-talking individual.  I asked her about "Speed 2" and she energetically told me that Jan De Bont was a "phenomenal" director and that she had "a nice, medium-sized part."  I asked her about Lois Chiles's role in the movie and Ms. Camp told me that Chiles had a good part playing the mother of a deaf girl and that she learned sign-language for the role.  (I never got to interview Colleen Camp because she seemed to have a very busy schedule.)  So I had reason to expect the movie would be good.

I remember being shocked, when I saw "Speed 2" on opening night, at how confused and incoherent the movie was at times.  It didn't seem at all like a worthy sequel to what was a very exciting movie.  The jerky camerawork and choppy editing made the movie hard to watch at times.  I was surprised at how slowly-paced the movie was, and how annoying the normally likeable Sandra Bullock was.  She and Jason Patric had no chemistry together.  I was glad that Lois Chiles had a decent amount of screen time, but I kept straining my eyes to find Colleen Camp in the movie.  I could hear her voice in the background throughout the movie, especially during very busy and crowded scenes with characters running around in a panic, but she was nowhere to be found, as the aforementioned clumsy editing and camerawork made it difficult to follow what was going on in the movie.  I wondered at the time, "Had Colleen Camp done something to cause the director to edit her out of the movie?"  (Impossible!)  The other thing I remember from my first viewing of "Speed 2" was the joke my brother made when Colleen Camp and Lois Chiles's names appeared on the same title card during the main title sequence at the end of the movie.  He said, "Wow, putting their names together seems apropos!"  Nevertheless, through the years, I have grown to enjoy "Speed 2," especially when it airs on AMC or FX cable in an extended version that reinserts additional scenes, not included in the theatrical version, back into the story.  I realized that the reason why the movie was so badly received at the time was that the audience expected that it would be an appropriate sequel to an action blockbuster.  As I have watched "Speed 2" on numerous occasions since then, I realized that, buried beneath its Joel Silver action framework, beats the heart of an Irwin Allen-style ensemble disaster movie, bursting to break out.

In subsequent viewings, I began to notice a cast of supporting characters with potentially complex and nuanced relationships that were buried beneath the awkward action hero posturing of Jason Patric and the atypical whining of Sandra Bullock.  There was a large ensemble of characters who made up the passengers and crew members of the cruise ship that the movie was set aboard who looked like they had stumbled in from "The Poseidon Adventure" (1972) and "The Towering Inferno" (1974).  What made "The Poseidon Adventure" work as a movie, that other disaster movies aspired to, was the fact that it was ultimately a character-driven piece where the tension and bickering among the passengers fighting to get out of that capsized ocean liner ultimately made the movie memorable.  At the very least, it was much more memorable than its soulless remake "Poseidon" (2006), which didn't bother to develop its characters at all.  You grew to care about the people in "The Poseidon Adventure" because there were recognizable traits in each of them, as broadly portrayed as they were, that made it easy for audiences to identify with them.  I would argue that there are moments in "Speed 2" that suggest the original intent of the movie was to recreate that sort of lively ensemble cast that distinguished the original "Poseidon" from other similar genre movies.

In "Speed 2," you've got Lois Chiles, Francis Guinan and Christine Firkins playing an upper-middle class family with tensions brewing underneath because of the deaf daughter's need to establish an identity for herself despite her uptight father's persistent disapproval.  You've got Colleen Camp and Michael Hagerty playing a good natured, overweight married couple who are vocal advocates of an unconventional diet plan called "Fat Busters."  You've got Connie Ray and Patrika Darbo as a pair of sisters from the South on vacation together.  You've got Charles Parks and Susan Barnes as a bitter, middle-aged married couple.  You've got Kimmy Robertson and Tamia playing hapless members of the ship's crew trying to keep the passengers calm.  And you've got Enrique Murciano and Jessica Diz as a newlywed couple on their honeymoon.  What's interesting is that none of these characters exist as plot devices in the main storyline involving Jason Patric or Sandra Bullock's efforts to defeat villain Willem Dafoe's plan to sabotage the cruise ship for his own nefarious purposes.  Usually, in action blockbusters like these, cut from the "Die Hard" mode, there is only enough room for characters that play a role in resolving the main crisis at-hand.  The fact that the movie features all of these supporting characters lends credence to the notion that part of the intent of the movie was to recreate the sort of "Grand Hotel" type movie that had been popular decades before.  If you look at "Speed 2" as an action blockbuster movie, it is an utter failure.  If you look at it, as I have suggested, as an attempt at an Irwin Allen-style ensemble disaster movie, you might find more to enjoy.

What appears to undermine the movie is the fact that director Jan De Bont can't seem to decide which of these two filmmaking genres he's trying to accomplish here.  The movie never works as an exciting action blockbuster because the premise of the cruise ship being hijacked and going out of control just does not lend itself to the sort of lightening, breathless pace of the original "Speed."  Nevertheless, De Bont continues to try to squeeze this square peg into a round hole by emphasizing that aspect of the movie over everything else.  As a result, the movie focuses far too much time on the Jason Patric and Sandra Bullock characters.  As mentioned before, Patric simply does not have the screen presence to be an effective action hero, Bullock is not nearly as charming or integral to the storyline as she was in the original "Speed," and neither of them have any convincing chemistry with each other.  You spend the entire movie rue-ing the fact that Keanu Reeves (understandably) refused to do this sequel.

Because the film spends so much time with Jason Patric and Sandra Bullock, it never completely takes advantage of recreating the sort of Irwin Allen/"Grand Hotel" disaster ensemble movie of the 1970s.  As a result, the supporting cast of passengers and crew members never get a chance to have enough screen-time to recreate the sort of chemistry that the original "Poseidon Adventure" ensemble had.  That's the reason why it is not easy to recognize the interrelationships of the passengers the first time you see the movie.  It's only when you see it again on cable, especially in the longer TV version, that you realize who is related to who.  (The net effect is like watching a Robert Altman movie, where in subsequent viewings more and more nuances become apparent.)  The only supporting cast members who get any decent screen-time are the deaf girl Drew and her parents.  Christine Firkins brings dignity and intelligence to the role of Drew.  I liked how, when Drew is separated from her family, and her parents are panicking, she is depicted as resourceful, calm, and poised.  Lois Chiles and Francis Guinan also do good work playing Drew's parents, Celeste and Rupert. With minimal amounts of screentime, Chiles and Guinan are still able to create a married couple who are disconnected from each other due to probable ennui and complacency.

 

There's a scene early in the movie where all the characters are above deck dancing to a band.  While the foreground of the scene involves Bullock exchanging dialogue with Dafoe and Patric, you see Rupert and Celeste in the background sitting at the bar.  Rupert is wearing a suit and tie, Celeste is wearing an attractive dress.  They both look like they are out for a night of dinner and dancing in Manhattan rather than on a cruise in the Bahamas.  What's notable are the little nuances Guinan and Chiles give to Rupert and Celeste in this scene to establish their relationship.   Rupert is busy reading his newspaper at the bar, while Celeste takes a sip from her drink.  Neither of them are talking with each other.  Because both actors stayed "in character" with their choices in this scene, even when the focus was on other characters, they establish in short-hand that something is wrong with that marriage.

I also like the silent moments of sadness and discomfort when Celeste witnesses Rupert's continual disapproval of their daughter Drew.  Chiles does a good job depicting Celeste's awkwardness as she witnesses the disconnect between her husband and daughter.  The first time I saw the movie, I never understood why Rupert and Celeste didn't go after Drew after she ran away from them before dinner because of their argument over the dress she was wearing.  It just seemed like a plot device by the screenwriters to create a potential crisis later on in the movie by separating Drew from her parents--and it probably was.  However, because the actors have invested as much as they can into their characters, I now interpret the scene as an indication that this is simply the latest in another series of arguments between father and daughter.  Rupert and Celeste appear unconcerned when Drew runs away from them because they've probably been through it before with her.  Because Chiles, Guinan and Firkins are committed to their roles, they look like a real family together.

Since the premise of "Speed 2" was such a non-starter, director De Bont should have tried to focus more attention on the supporting cast.  He might have at least taken advantage of the cast he had assembled and allowed them to attempt to create the sort of "Poseidon Adventure" ensemble chemistry that endeared audiences to the personalities of that earlier movie.  Rather than giving all the action and heroism to the bland Jason Patric, or focused so much attention on the inexplicably whiney Sandra Bullock, De Bont could have spread the heroism around equally to the other characters, allowing them to have moments to distinguish themselves and shine.  I would have liked it if Colleen Camp or Patrika Darbo got to become the Shelley Winters of "Speed 2," sacrificing her life for the good of her fellow passengers.  Or if Tamia got to become the Carol Lynley of "Speed 2," frightened and vulnerable and touching, rather than just taking up space on-screen doing nothing.  Or if Francis Guinan and Charles Parks argued with each other the way Gene Hackman and Ernest Borgnine debated the proper course of action, with Michael Hagerty (standing in for Red Buttons) trying to make peace between them.  Or if Lois Chiles and Susan Barnes were allowed chances to be as earthy, feisty, and sardonic as Stella Stevens was in the original "Poseidon."  As contrived as all of that might sound, it would have made a better "Speed 2" than what Jan De Bont ultimately turned in. 

Menahem Golan's Interesting Misfire: "Silent Victim"

Growing up in the 1980s, I admit that I enjoyed all of the movies that Israeli-born producer/director Menahem Golan and his cousin Yoram Globus made at the Cannon Group, Inc.  I enjoyed Golan's own "The Delta Force" (1986) as well as the "American Ninja" movies that he produced, among other films.  When Golan left Cannon in the late 1980s, after it had gone through financial challenges, he regrouped with another production company called 21st Century Film Corporation, with the goal of producing ambitious, high-quality films.  It was during his time with 21st Century that Golan directed one of his most ambitious and unlikely films, the abortion drama "Silent Victim" (1993).  I first heard about the film in a short article in "Variety" announcing it was going into production.  I remember being intrigued that Golan was tackling this subject matter.  "Silent Victim" was filmed in the Fall of 1991 on location in Newnan, Georgia.  According to an article discussing the making of the film in the October 18, 1991 issue of the Atlanta Journal Constitution, it had a budget of $4 million and its original shooting title was called "Hot House."  Golan admitted in the interview that no distributor had been lined up for the movie, but that "he would offer it to all the major studios.  If there aren't any takers, he'll offer it to a cable network, such as HBO or Showtime, or a home video distributor."  The usually flamboyant Golan was quite humble in discussing his purpose in making "Silent Victim," telling the Journal Constitution that "I'm not doing this for the sake of politics...The main thrust of the story is when it happens, everybody comes to take advantage of the situation.  I'm walking a razor's edge.  I hope the movie will be good enough that people will learn something and enjoy it."  As it happened, "Silent Victim" never found a theatrical distributor and premiered on cable.  It's been virtually forgotten and is now only available on Netflix streaming or Amazon prime.  It's a shame, because it's a very intriguing and entertaining movie for all the right and all the wrong reasons.

In "Silent Victim," former "LA Law" regular Michele Greene stars as Bonnie Jackson, a meek young woman trapped in an unhappy marriage with her overbearing and abusive husband Jed Jackson (Kyle Secor).  Jed believes that the one thing that would save their marriage is a child, so he relentlessly puts pressure on Bonnie to take all the proper medication and precautions in the hope that they can conceive a child.  When Jed beats Bonnie after a particularly brutal argument, she takes pills and attempts suicide.  When Jed finds her, he rushes Bonnie to the hospital, where her life is saved, but it is discovered that she had been pregnant and her suicide attempt caused a miscarriage.  An enraged Jed inspires local ambitious District Attorney Carter Evans (Alex Hyde-White) to bring charges against Bonnie for criminal attempt to commit suicide, interference with husband's property rights, failure to obtain spousal notification, and unlicensed practice of medicine to produce criminal abortion.  Bonnie's best friend from college Lauren McKinley (Ely Pouget), a high-powered Manhattan attorney, returns to Newnan to defend Bonnie in court.  The resultant publicity surrounding the case puts Bonnie square in the middle of the abortion debate, with protestors representing both the pro-choice and pro-life perspectives descending upon Newnan.  In the course of the trial, it is revealed that the man who fathered Bonnie's baby was not Jed, but Bonnie's friend, African American pharmacist C. Ray Thompson (Ralph Wilcox).  Bonnie had been having an affair with C. Ray because of the unhappiness of her marriage with Jed.  The jury acquits of her all the charges except unlicensed practice of medicine to produce a criminal abortion.  The Judge, disgusted at the circus atmosphere surrounding the trial, suspends Bonnie's sentence and fines her $1,000.  He urges Bonnie and Jed to try and rebuild their lives.  Outside the court, Bonnie tells Jed she needs time to decide what future lays ahead for her and walks away from him.

With that storyline, there is no way that "Silent Victim" would ever be called boring.  Golan keeps up the energy and pace of the movie so that it remains completely engaging and compelling from the opening scene.  He also makes excellent use of real locations in Newnan, Georgia that allows the town to become a vivid supporting character in the movie.  Newnan has a texture and character to it that allows it to stand out as an interesting movie location.  Golan gets technically good performances from his entire cast, but there's a certain lack of restraint in both his direction and in some of the acting that prevents "Silent Victim" from becoming the hard-hitting, serious drama it aspires to be.  Golan adds some strange touches to the movie that are at times tasteless or unintentionally funny.  During the scene when Bonnie is in the Emergency Room being treated for her suicide attempt, Golan cuts to a quick shot of blood and afterbirth coming out from between her legs, to demonstrate her miscarriage.  When Jed moves out of the house and into a motel, Golan shows him getting drunk watching a women's prison movie with lesbian nude sex scenes.  When Bonnie is confronted by a bunch of reporters, she covers her ears and sings aloud "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean" to drown them out.  Outside of the courthouse, where a carnival/circus has been set up to entertain spectators, there's a truly bizarre scene with two hand puppets playing a married couple.  The male hand-puppet, upon learning that the female hand-puppet wants an abortion, beats the female hand-puppet to death while the children in the audience applaud approvingly.  When the verdict is being read aloud by the jury foreman, the potential drama and tension of the scene is undercut by the visual incongruity of having a middle-aged man wearing a pony tail (1960s-era actor Bart Patton, star of 1963's "Dementia 13" and a former Francis Ford Coppola associate) play the foreman.  When the Judge fines Bonnie $1,000, an overly eager Jed jumps to his feet, pulls out his checkbook, and offers to pay the amount.  At the end of the film, when Bonnie encounters C. Ray outside the courthouse, two ridiculous looking clowns (who we saw earlier enacting a scene where the "pregnant" clown has its protruding stomach caved in with the wooden mallet wielded by the other clown) are prominently standing in the background, undermining what is meant to be a very serious, poignant moment.  But the strange touches in Golan's direction isn't the only thing that's over the top here.  Kyle Secor embarrassingly overacts as the unsympathetic, stupid Jed.  His performance has such a "bull in the China Shop" quality to it that Jed comes across as borderline psychotic at times.  I'm not convinced that Golan and the screenwriters intended to make Jed unsympathetic since they had the character have a change of heart in the latter half of the movie where he expresses regret at bringing charges against Bonnie.  Jed also seems sincere at the end of the movie when he appears to want to make amends with his wife, but because Secor didn't invest subtler qualities of genuine caring and vulnerability into the character earlier in the story, you're always nervous that Jed is on the verge of another violent outburst against Bonnie.

Along the same lines, Michele Greene also elicits little sympathy as Bonnie.  There's always been a quality about Greene, even as far back as "LA Law" that was rarely warm or likeable.  Greene tends to be cast in victim roles, which is strange, because I've always sensed a cold, disconnected chilliness from her as an actress.  There's rarely an accessible humanity or vulnerability emanating from her that makes her characters someone that people can relate to.  I've chatted with two female friends about Michele Greene after seeing "Silent Victim" recently.  At the mere mention of Greene's name, both friends said to me, "I've never liked her as an actress...what is it about her?"  So at least I know I'm not alone in feeling this way.  I think Greene is miscast as Bonnie, but to be fair to her, the script stacks the deck against Bonnie by portraying her as someone who is weak, selfish and dishonest with the people in her life.  She doesn't stand up against Jed (Bonnie admits to Lauren she still loves Jed even after all his abuse and bullying), uses C. Ray as a source of comfort from her unhappy marriage, doesn't come clean with either men as to the identity of the father of her child until she is forced to, and decides to commit suicide instead of taking a proactive stand for herself against the bullying and abusive Jed once and for all.  Bonnie even turns on her friend Lauren at the end of the film, accusing Lauren of exploiting Bonnie's case for professional and political gain because Lauren chose not to work out a plea bargain with D.A. Carter Evans.  The ungrateful Bonnie forgets how Lauren, despite her ulterior motives, was the only person who remained on her side throughout her ordeal and worked hard at getting her acquitted.  Bonnie is an extremely flawed character, who would have been even more compelling in the hands of a more skillful actress who could have brought empathy to her without compromising or homogenizing the character one bit.  A young Julianne Moore, before she hit stardom, might have been more ideal as Bonnie.

Much more compelling and nuanced are Alex Hyde-White and Ely Pouget as, respectively, D.A. Carter Evans and Bonnie's attorney and friend, Lauren McKinley.  Hyde-White and Pouget do a fine job at giving their roles nicely balanced shades of grey.  At the outset of the movie, Carter Evans appears like he will be the "villain" of the piece, since he decides to prosecute Bonnie in order to build a political platform to run for Governor of Georgia.  But, later in the film, you see he has second-thoughts and has regrets pursuing the case as he realizes it has gone too far.  And Pouget does a good job balancing her character's genuine concern for her best friend with her own opportunism at building a career for herself as an attorney for feminist issues.  Because their characters have a romantic history together, this allows Golan to take advantage of an easy on-screen chemistry Hyde-White and Pouget have together in the movie.  I was actually more interested in finding out what would happen with Carter and Lauren's relationship, as a result of the controversy surrounding the trial, than I was with Jed and Bonnie.  What I liked the most about Hyde-White and Pouget's performances is that they rose above one-dimensional stereotypes you see in movies about Southerners.  Carter Evans and Lauren McKinley come across as complex and interesting characters, and you don't sense any condescension in Hyde-White or Pouget's performances towards their characters the way you do with Secor and Greene regarding their roles.  Hyde-White and Pouget seem completely committed to understanding their roles, bringing intelligence and depth to them.  On the other hand, Secor and Greene just struck me as condescendingly looking down on both Jed and Bonnie, making no effort to try and walk in their shoes, because they each came across as selfish and foolish.

Even though there are genuine flaws to "Silent Victim," by no means do I suggest that the movie is not worth watching.  Actually, it's the flaws, along with its genuinely good qualities, that make "Silent Victim" such an interesting movie so that it rises above being a Lifetime TV movie.  You never know from scene-to-scene if you're going to watch something that is going to be good or campy.  On the plus side, Golan populates his supporting cast with excellent regionally-based actors who bring a lot of authenticity to their roles--more authenticity than Greene or Secor ever bring to their roles.  Notable are Dan Biggers as the sensible Judge presiding over the case, Tommy Cresswell as one of the prosecuting attorneys who is initially sympathetic to Bonnie's situation until he is convinced of the political advantage of putting her on trial, and Bill Ewin and Janell McLeod as the conscientious motel owners who provide a key piece of evidence at the end of the trial.  All of these actors have built accomplished careers playing supporting roles in films and TV shows shot in either Tennessee or Georgia.  They, like Hyde-White and Pouget, bring depth and humanity to their roles to ensure that they don't succumb to any one-dimensional Southern stereotypes.  1980s TV actress Leann Hunley also does good work as an ambitious TV reporter covering the case.  Despite the flaws in "Silent Victim," I think Golan effectively underscored the adverse polarization of this country concerning the subject of abortion.  (For the record, I am not taking one side or another on the issue, as this blog remains apolitical.)  Even though the movie could ultimately be characterized as pro-choice in theme, I don't think Golan completely sides with pro-choice activists with the way he portrays them in the movie.  In the end, Golan does a good job at depicting how both sides of the abortion issue, or any other controversy for that matter, tend to exploit an individual and personal tragedy when the facts surrounding a specific situation conform to their own agendas.  Neither the pro-life or pro-choice characters come off well in this movie.  The pro-life protestors are portrayed as intimidating bullies and fanatics, while the pro-choice protestors are portrayed as opportunistic, condescending, and crass.  I think Golan leaves enough room to allow the audience to come to their own conclusions.  Even though he adds strange touches to the movie, Golan never trivializes the genuine issues that continue to surround the abortion controversy.  "Silent Victim" remains a noble effort on Menahem Golan's part, an underrated film worthy of rediscovery. 

Requiem for Richard Avery

Today is the 33rd anniversary of the premiere of "Knots Landing" on CBS.  Its first episode aired on December 27, 1979.  As I have written about before, I preferred the early seasons of this show when it was originally about four married couples living in a Southern California cul-de-sac.  I wasn't as interested in the show when it started phasing out its original cast members and creating more and more larger-than-life characters and situations that seemed at odds with the earlier low-key storylines.  One character who I wish never left the series was the troubled, complex attorney Richard Avery, played by actor John Pleshette.  During its initial run, I didn't like the Richard Avery character at all.  I found him very uncomfortable to watch as his character was continually denigrating his wife Laura.  Maybe my discomfort with Richard and his storyline with Laura was because he came across as so real.  Now that I'm older and have a better appreciation for such nuanced characters, I think that Richard Avery was one of the best characters to have ever appeared on "Knots Landing."  He's definitely one of my favorite characters on the show.

Richard Avery started out life on "Knots Landing" as an ambitious, status-conscious attorney who took his wife Laura for granted and used her as his constant whipping-boy and a scapegoat for his own insecurities and disappointments.  Among other things, he cheated on her with neighbor Abby Cunningham (Donna Mills), flaunted his affair with Abby in front of Laura and the other neighbors, resented her success as a realtor when he was unable to support his family on his own, and was a general embarrassment for all involved.  But Pleshette made Richard fascinating and sympathetic despite all of his shortcomings.  Over time, Richard's good qualities started to emerge.  He was a loving and devoted father to the sons he had with Laura, he proved to be a loyal friend to Karen Fairgate (Michele Lee) after she was widowed (a development no one would have ever expected when Karen constantly came to Laura's defense at Richard's emotional abuse), and he eventually grew to become someone who genuinely cared about his neighbors on Seaview Circle once he stopped obsessing about his professional advancement and became concerned about the people around him.  In turn, the other neighbors, particularly Val (Joan Van Ark) and Karen, also grew to care deeply about Richard's well-being.

 
In the episode entitled "Night," which was written by John Pleshette, the mentally unstable Richard holds Laura hostage in their home at gunpoint.  While everyone around them remain concerned about Laura, both Karen and Val remain concerned about Richard.  They both realize that Laura is the stronger person in the end, and that Richard is the vulnerable one more susceptible to being hurt at whatever the outcome is with the hostage crisis.  I also recall the earlier episode where Richard, sensing that his neighbor Gary Ewing (Ted Shackelford) is on the verge of having an affair with Abby, reminds Gary of the special love he has for his wife Valene and warns him of the pitfalls of being involved with Abby.  Richard and Gary had always had an awkward relationship from the beginning of the series, when Richard attempted to ingratiate himself with his new neighbor because of his ties to the oil-rich Ewing family.  This didn't sit well with Gary.  Richard concern for Gary's well-being reflects the degree to which the character grew from the moment we first met him, as well as his eventual regret at hurting Laura for having the affair with Abby.

 
Some of my favorite moments with Richard include the scene in the Season 3 premiere at the hospital where Richard brings Karen croissants and coffee after she has been up all night worrying about Sid (Don Murray) after he has sustained severe injuries in a car accident.  Richard's typically sardonic nature is used to good effect here as he uses it to mask the vulnerable side that he reveals to Karen because of his concern for Karen and Sid.  Another occurs later in the season during the 1981 Christmas episode when he surprises Laura on Christmas morning, with a brand new blue Buick Regal coupe.  They take it for a drive and then return home, content and happy, until Laura's boss at the realty company Scooter (Allan Miller) shows up with with a brand new Mercedes sedan, as a gift for her job performance that year.  Richard swallows his pride and puts on a brave front when he urges Laura to accept Scooter's gift.  Richard still wants her to enjoy the new Mercedes even though his efforts to do something thoughtful for Laura have been overshadowed by Scooter's generosity.  In both scenes, Pleshette really makes you feel for Richard.  Despite his many flaws, he also has enough good qualities that make it difficult to completely write him off.  

Much of the success of the Richard Avery character is due to the immense contributions of John Pleshette, a multi-talented powerhouse who also wrote and directed several episodes.  More than any other actor, Pleshette understood how the middle-class suburban milieu of the first four seasons of "Knots Landing" was what distinguished it from other prime time soaps of the era.  I attended the Museum of TV and Radio tribute to "Knots Landing" in 1995 and I vividly recall when Pleshette and Donna Mills responded, in-unison, to a question from the audience regarding how much creative input the actors had with their characters on the show.  Mills said "Not enough!" at the exact time Pleshette said "Too much!"  I suspect Pleshette's comment reflected how the actors on "Knots Landing," especially Mills, influenced the show to where it became more glamorous and upscale like "Dallas" and lost some of its distinction.  I also believe that Pleshette's comment reflects how the actors added too many of their own individual personal qualities to their characters to a degree where they started to play themselves and not their original characters anymore.  For example, Val lost whatever earthiness she had from her days on "Dallas" and became weirder and more neurotic over time, which I believe reflects the self-indulgent quality that comes across in Joan Van Ark's interviews.

In contrast, even though Richard developed into a gourmet chef, which reflects John Pleshette's real life acclaimed culinary skills, I don't think this ever distracted from, or seemed out-of-place, for the character.  If anything, it blended perfectly with Richard's ambitions to someday enjoy the finer things in life.  It didn't contradict the character to a degree where I felt Pleshette was playing himself, and not Richard anymore.  Pleshette always kept his eye on the ball where "Knots Landing" was concerned.  As mentioned earlier on this blog, I once met Pleshette at a bookstore in Los Angeles and chatted with him about "Knots Landing."  I told him that I thought the show wasn't nearly as good when he and James Houghton and Kim Lankford left and it became more about corporate, rather than suburban, intrigue.  Pleshette was extremely polite and gracious.  I sensed he was both appreciative and a little uneasy about still being identified with "Knots Landing" after all these years.  He thanked me for my comments and said "We gave it, or at least tried to give it, some depth in the first few years before it became 'Dallas in California.'"

Pleshette needn't feel awkward about his contributions to the series.  The episodes he wrote were some of the finest from the early seasons of "Knots Landing."  He not only understood his character well, but also had a keen insight into the other characters so that he was able to write good moments for his fellow actors.  I also don't believe that Pleshette allowed Richard to be more sympathetic over time because he was afraid of playing a jerk on the series.  I simply think it's because Pleshette is smart enough to understand that all people, good or bad, have different sides to their personalities and that it's more effective to allow those different nuances to come into play at appropriate times.  Even when Richard became a more sympathetic character, especially because of his supportive friendship with the widowed Karen, he still didn't make life easy for Laura.  In addition to having a nervous breakdown and holding Laura hostage in their house at gunpoint when she was pregnant with their second child, in the next season when he later opened a restaurant, he went behind Laura's back and signed a promissory note with Abby to get a loan to pay for his extravagant restaurant expenses.  He also mistreated her friend Ciji (Lisa Hartman) when he suspected them of having an affair.  But, through it all, he was always portrayed as a loving and devoted father even if he was a lousy husband.  As with all great fictional characters, Richard wasn't all good or all bad, but a nuanced, complex human being.

Even Janet Baines (Joanna Pettet), the police detective investigating Ciji's murder, ultimately had more sympathy for Richard than she had for Laura, when Laura misplaces her rage at being abandoned by Richard by falsely accusing him of murdering Ciji.  Baines is disgusted at Laura's eagerness to blame the crime on Richard, characterizing him as a "poor, unloved guy who couldn't cope."  The fact that an outsider like Janet Baines recognized Richard's sympathetic qualities demonstrates the degree to how Richard had changed from when we first met him on the premiere episode of "Knots Landing" almost four years earlier, when we would never have found anything redeemable about him.  In 1983, after four years with "Knots Landing," Richard had one of the best exits scenes of any regular character on a TV series.  Realizing his marriage with Laura was unsalvageable, he packs a suitcase, leaves the house in the middle of the night, with a framed photo of his family tucked under his arm, and drives out of the cul-de-sac.  Before he leaves, Richard stops the car, gets out and takes a look at the street that was once his home, and disappears into the night.  It was one of the few exit scenes for a major character on the series where the show's suburban setting was effectively utilized.  The street where Richard had forged some of his strongest friendships, where his marriage had unraveled, and which symbolized the pain and suffering he had alternately experienced and caused during the years he lived there, was now a place he had to escape from.  Even though Richard later returned in 1987 for a pair of episodes marking Laura's death, it was still a haunting exit scene worthy of a character who had given "Knots Landing" some of its finest moments.  

The Redemption of Cliff Barnes

One of the most annoying characters in television history is Cliff Barnes, played by Ken Kercheval, on "Dallas."  Throughout most of the run of the original series, which ran from 1978 to 1991, and even now in the revival "Dallas" series on TNT, Cliff is always the bane of the existence of JR Ewing (Larry Hagman) and his family.  Cliff hates the Ewings because of what he perceives to be an injustice committed against his father Willard "Digger" Barnes (David Wayne and, later, Keenan Wynn) by his former best friend Jock Ewing (Jim Davis) when they were wildcatting for oil in the 1930s.  Digger always believed that Jock stole his fortune, and his sweetheart Miss Ellie (Barbara Bel Geddes) from him, and Cliff was raised to believe that his sole purpose in life was to avenge his father's purported maltreatment at the hands of the Ewings.  As such, Cliff was incredibly insufferable throughout much of "Dallas."  He started out as a dignified, ambitious attorney but eventually, over the years, degenerated into a pathetic comical figure.  His repeated inability to defeat JR or the Ewings eventually branded him a "loser" and Cliff lost much of his edge as time wore on.  We knew that Cliff would never really defeat JR for long, and so a change in course was long due for his character.

That change occurred in 1987, at the end of the 9th season, when Victoria Principal, who played Cliff's sister Pamela, left the series in a bizarre storyline where Pam is burned alive in a car crash and badly disfigured.  The producers, still reeling from having to bring Bobby (Patrick Duffy) back from the dead when ratings fell drastically in his absence, made the entire 1985-86 season of "Dallas" a dream, a move that still divides fans to this day.  The producers decided to avoid this by concocting a story of having Pam run away to parts unknown so that they wouldn't have to kill her off.  The reason given for Pam's disappearance was her fear that her disfigurement from the burns sustained in the car crash would traumatize her loved ones.  I remember reading an interview where Ken Kercheval expressed concern that Pam's absence would leave Cliff with little to do on the show.  By that point, Cliff had pretty much outlived his usefulness as an effective adversary against JR, and most of his storylines towards the end of Victoria Principal's tenure involved Cliff's interaction with Pam.  He needn't have worried, because Principal's departure actually paved the way for some of Kercheval's best work on "Dallas."

Starting in the 10th (1987-88) and continuing into the 11th (1988-89) seasons of "Dallas," after Pam disappeared, the writers created a fascinating storyline where Cliff had to reconsider his entire raison d'etre.  He realized that he was truly alone because he had lost virtually every member of his family and he also lost much of the drive he once had to destroy JR and the Ewings.  Cliff's storyline during that time was profoundly existential, as he was forced to truly define who he was as a man.  Cliff's epiphany began right after Pam's disappearance, when he befriended an elderly drunk in a bar Harrison "Dandy" Dandridge (Bert Remsen), an aging old wildcatter who never found success and only found solace in a bottle.  Dandy reminded Cliff of his daddy Digger and so Cliff decided to help Dandy fulfill his dream of drilling for oil on a piece of land that Dandy owned, but could never convince anyone to let him explore.  As it happens, Cliff and Dandy don't find oil, but a rich deposit of natural gas.  When a drunk Dandy turns on Cliff and tries to shoot him in front of other guests at the annual Ewing barbecue, Cliff realizes that Dandy's delusion that Cliff tried to swindle him out of their natural gas discovery echoed all of the times Digger had blamed Jock for "stealing" Ewing Oil away from him.  He realizes that the alcoholic, self-pitying Digger squandered all of the opportunities given to him and that Jock had actually never tried to take anything away from him.  He makes amends with Miss Ellie in a very touching scene where he makes peace with the Ewing family, and asks for her forgiveness for having caused her family so much turmoil through the years.  You can see it here.  Miss Ellie asks hopefully "Does this new way of thinking include you and JR too?"  Cliff laughs and says "You know, what's gone on between your son and me goes far beyond the Barnes and the Ewings and, I swear, I think JR and I would've hated each other no matter what our names were."  Cliff then solemnly adds, "I tell you what would've about made this day perfect though is if Pam could've been here just to see her brother learn his lesson."  In so doing, Cliff has finally stopped living his life for his father.

Across the next two seasons, we start to see Cliff make real strides towards finally growing up.  He and his brother-in-law Bobby develop a genuine friendship and Cliff becomes an attentive and loving uncle to his nephew Christopher (Joshua Harris).  When Lisa Alden, the adopted Christopher's biological aunt, shows up during the 10th season suing for custody of her nephew, Cliff attempts to bribe Lisa into giving up her claim on Christopher, not only because he is the only family that Cliff has left, but also because Bobby and Christopher have suffered enough in recent months due to Pam's accident and disappearance.  Cliff even becomes best friends with April Stevens (Sheree J. Wilson), a scheming blonde once married to an Ewing cousin who had come to Dallas to build her powerbase and fortune.  Cliff grows to genuinely care for April as a surrogate sister in Pam's absence.  Rather than having little to do, this new Cliff actually entered into the most interesting phase of his time on "Dallas."  He existed as a character on his own terms because his raison d'etre was no longer tied to feuding with JR or the Ewings.

At the end of the 10th season, Cliff learns about Pam's whereabouts from Jordan Lee (Don Starr) after Jordan spotted a woman who looked very much like Pam while he was vacationing.  At the start of the following 11th season Cliff, accompanied by April Stevens, goes off in search of Pam with the intent to bring her back.  When Cliff finds Pam as a patient in a sanitarium, she tells him that she had reconstructive surgery to give her a new face (thereby allowing a new actress named Margaret Michaels to play the role) and announces she has fallen in love with her doctor and has no intention of ever returning to Dallas.  Cliff begs Pam to return with him ("You can't turn your back on us...on me.  You're all I've got."), but she refuses.  She urges Cliff to go back home and says "forget you ever had a sister.  Go home.  Live your own life....Goodbye, Cliff.  We're never gonna see each other again."  Cliff is so heartbroken he can't even tell April, who was waiting outside in the hallway, what happened.  Cliff never realizes that Pam lied to him because she is dying and does not want raise the hopes of her loved ones by coming back to Dallas only to then have her family see her deteriorate and die.  Cliff, who was never the most gracious or sensitive person on "Dallas," decides not to tell Bobby or Christopher that he found Pam, in order to spare them the pain of believing that she chose someone else over them.  Kercheval makes the scene work with his heartfelt performance.  He digs deep to bring forth a reservoir of feeling to convey the inconsolable hurt Cliff experiences at being rejected by his sister.  He is so good, he makes you forget that Victoria Principal isn't even playing Pam in this scene.

 
Cliff takes Pam's advice to heart and begins making drastic changes in his life.  He decides to sell Barnes-Wentworth Oil to Bobby, spends even more time mentoring Christopher and his cousin John Ross, and begins dating Tammy Miller (Irena Ferris), one of Bobby Ewing's college girlfriends.  He develops warm feelings for Tammy until he realizes that she is still hung up on Bobby, but Cliff doesn't get spiteful over it.  Cliff even turns down Sue Ellen's offer to team up together to destroy JR once and for all, telling her that it's a waste of time to carry around that level of hatred.  Even Sue Ellen notices Cliff's change in character.  When she observes how caring and attentive he is with Christopher and her own son John Ross, an impressed Sue Ellen comments that she wished she had seen this side of Cliff years ago when the two of them were still romantically involved.  Because he is no longer looking to fight with JR, Cliff has stopped putting himself in situations where he will be considered a "loser."  Bobby even invites Cliff to join his newly recreated Ewing Oil as a full partner, an offer Cliff accepts as long as JR is not involved.  Even when Bobby allows JR to rejoin Ewing Oil, Cliff attempts to stay out of JR's way and tries not to let his presence fluster him. 

All of the developments occurring with Cliff in Season 11 help set the stage for his most important story arc that season, the return of his ex-girlfriend Afton Cooper (Audrey Landers).  Afton broke up with Cliff and left Dallas almost 5 years earlier when it was apparent that his obsession in defeating JR and the Ewings was all-consuming.  She is back in Dallas for a lucrative singing engagement that even she could not turn down.  Afton was Cliff's most important love interest on "Dallas," a girl who genuinely cared about him and tried to support him when he was constantly abused by JR or taken for granted by Sue Ellen.  It's very touching to see Cliff make a sincere effort to show Afton how much he has changed in the last few years.  The interesting twist to the storyline is when Cliff learns Afton has a 4 and a half year old daughter named Pamela Rebecca Cooper.  He senses that this girl must be his child because she is named after his sister and his mother.  At the end of the season, when Afton realizes that Cliff has been snooping around to prove his paternity, she flees Dallas with her daughter, with Cliff giving chase.

More than any other time in "Dallas" history, we root for Cliff to have a happy ending during these two seasons.  He makes dramatic strides towards growing up and has finally become a man that his sister can be proud of.  Cliff is no longer as self-centered or narcissistic as he once was.  He is a flawed, but sincere and caring individual.  Ken Kercheval gave some of his best performances as Cliff during this period of the show.  He brought out unexpectedly touching nuances to a character that had, only a short time earlier, grown tiresome, annoying and repetitive.  Cliff and JR don't really interact much during this time on the series, and this allows Cliff an opportunity to develop beyond being a mere foil or plot device for the show.  For once, Cliff is somebody that the audience actually cares about and does not want to see bad things happen to him.  During these seasons, he is no longer a comic figure of ridicule.  I particularly like how Cliff and Bobby have become good friends, after they had been adversarial brothers-in-law for years.  Which is why it's so perplexing that the creators of the new "Dallas" have decided to do a 180 on Cliff and bring him back to the series as a vengeful character who ruthlessly uses his grown daughter Pamela Rebecca and his nephew Christopher as pawns in his scheme to destroy JR and the Ewings.

 
In the new series, he has Pamela Rebecca pose as another girl in order to trick Christopher into marrying her so that she will be strategically placed in the Ewing family to help initiate and execute his intricate plans for revenge.  This completely contradicts the genuine love he expresses for his daughter and his nephew, as well as the respect and friendship he has forged with Bobby, on the original series.  Even though Cliff and the Ewings would continue to have a few more scrapes with each other in the remaining two years of the original "Dallas," nothing that occurred between then and now would have prepared the audience for how evil and hateful Cliff has now become.  As much as I admire the new "Dallas," this regression in the Cliff character is one of the reasons why I can't fully appreciate the show.  When the 2nd season for the new "Dallas" premieres next month, they will have to explain what has happened to Cliff in the last 20 years that would make him resume his venomous hatred for the Ewings.  Otherwise, I'll be inclined to write off the new "Dallas" as another one of Pam's season-long dreams. 

Diary of a "Gosford Park" Chambermaid

One of my favorite movies I never tire of watching is Robert Altman's "Gosford Park" (2001).  Even though I've said for years that Altman's "Nashville" (1975) is my favorite movie (and that hasn't changed), I sometimes think that "Gosford Park" might be an even better film.  It's the story about the interrelationships between wealthy Britons and their servants who are at an English country estate for a shooting party weekend, and what happens to them when a murder takes place.  But it is much more than that.  It truly is a multi-layered character study where you can pick up new nuances and meanings with each viewing.  What's interesting is how my perceptions of its characters have either changed or deepened through the years.  Because screenwriter Julian Fellowes appears to have personal experience, from his upbringing, with the sorts of characters from the English upper and servant class being portrayed, "Gosford Park" turns out to be a much more compassionate, though no less satirical or trenchant, than Altman's other films.  It's not as cynical or misanthropic about humanity as Altman's other films because Fellowes makes sure that the movie plays fair with its characters.  You've got upper class characters (such as Jeremy Northam's Ivor Novello and Charles Dance's Lord Raymond Stockbridge) who have decent qualities, as well as servants (such as Adrian Scarborough's complaining and back-stabbing Barnes, valet to Tom Hollander's hapless Commander Anthony Meredith) who are actually venal and devious people.  But my favorite character is Emily Watson's sullen, sexy, and sympathetic head housemaid Elsie.

Elsie has been working for the hosts of the shooting party weekend, Sir William McCordle (Michael Gambon) and his shallow wife Lady Sylvia (Kristin Scott Thomas) at their estate called Gosford Park for several years.  She has been having an affair with Sir William for quite some time, and finds herself frequently defending the unrefined and unsympathetic Sir William whenever people disparage him in her presence.  Sir William is all things to all people, but somehow Elsie brings out the best in him.  Elsie acknowledges at one point, after Sir William has been murdered, "I didn't love him.  I didn't mind him, but...I liked the way he talked.  He only talked to me because he was sick of her (Lady Sylvia) but I liked it.  He used to say to me I could be anything I wanted as long as I wanted it enough....What did he used to say?  'Carpe Diem.'  Seize the day."  It's because of this that Elsie has a healthy self-respect and self-confidence that many of the other servants do not have about themselves.  She does not base her self-worth on her employer's social standing.  When one of the other servants proudly quotes her employer by saying "Lady Lavinia says a woman who travels with no maid has lost her self respect.  She calls it 'giving in'" Elsie defiantly responds by saying "I don't have a maid.  I haven't given in."  When the other servant says "That's different," Elsie challenges her by asking "Why?"  To Elsie, working for the McCordle's is just a job until she figures out what she plans to do the rest of her life.  It's not a way of life as it is for the other servants.  She is someone who has not bought into her country's class system.

As such, Elsie's sympathies are not cut purely across class lines.  Elsie serves as a confidante to Lord William and Lady Sylvia's vulnerable young daughter Isobel (Camilla Rutherford), who is being blackmailed by the treacherous unemployed banker Freddie Nesbitt (James Wilby) over an undisclosed secret that Isobel doesn't want her father to find out about.  Similarly, Elsie comforts Freddie's seemingly meek wife Mabel (Claudie Blakley) after she walks in on a particularly ugly scene where Freddie degrades and denigrates Mabel.  After Freddie leaves the room, Elsie gives Mabel a handkerchief to wipe away her tears and helps Mabel look presentable before she joins the other guests at the formal dinner downstairs.  The interesting aspect to Elsie's character is that, unlike the other servants, she's not friendly with these women because she's trying to score points with people in the upper class.  She's friendly with them because she likes them personally, not based on what social strata they represent, and she proves to be a source of comfort for both of them.  Similarly, she has little respect for Lady Sylvia's own lady's maid Lewis (Meg Wynn Owen) because Lewis has no life of her own, spends far too much time kissing up to Lady Sylvia, and is precisely the sort of servant whose self-worth is based on who her employer is.  At one point, Elsie says "Why do we spend our lives living through them?  I mean, look at poor old Lewis.  If her own mother had a heart attack, she'd think it was less important than one of Lady Sylvia's farts."

In essence, Elsie looks at the character of the person she befriends or disdains, not their social status.  She immediately befriends Mary Maceachran (Kelly Macdonald), the naive but extremely perceptive lady's maid to the snooty Constance, Countess of Trentham (Maggie Smith), and the two become good friends and confidantes within a short amount of time.  Elsie gives Mary insight into the lives of the upper class characters they work for, as well advises her on the structured class system that the servants abide by below stairs, so that the young girl can develop survival instincts on how to best navigate the challenges of her job.  I enjoy the genuine camaraderie that Emily Watson and Kelly Macdonald have in this movie.  Watson brings an insolent wisdom to Elsie that is incredibly winning, and Macdonald is very touching and sincere as Mary.  Their friendship that develops while being roommates during the course of the several days that the storyline of "Gosford Park" spans reminds me a great deal of the friendship between Joan Prather and Annette O'Toole's beauty contestants in Michael Ritchie's "Smile" (1975), which I have already blogged about.  As with Prather and O'Toole's friendship in that earlier movie, you hope that the Elsie/Mary friendship continues long after this movie ends.  Just like Joan Prather was the main character in "Smile," Kelly Macdonald's Mary is ultimately the main character in "Gosford Park" amidst the gallery of characters all housed under one roof despite the fact that most critics tend to overlook both actresses/characters when the write about both movies.  And just like Annette O'Toole proved to be a good foil for Prather in "Smile" and helps her understand the pitfalls of competing in a beauty contest, Elsie proves to be a good mentor for Mary and helps the young girl develop the self-confidence she needs to hold her own during her stay in Gosford Park.  The Elsie/Mary scenes prove to be the heart and soul of "Gosford Park."

Just as Joan Prather comforted Annette O'Toole in "Smile" when she does not win any preliminary prizes on the first night of the beauty contest, the naive Mary is concerned for Elsie's welfare after the more worldly young woman is fired after defending Sir William at the dinner table when Lady Sylvia insults him in front of the other guests.  Despite Elsie saying she didn't love Sir William, I think she did indeed care about him deeply because she was always sticking up for him with the other servants.  She's one of the few characters (Lady Stockbridge, with whom William had long-lasting feelings with, is the other) who is genuinely saddened after Sir William is murdered.  Many of the other characters are pleased by Sir William's death because it serves their self-interest, but Elsie cared about him unselfishly.  Even the snooty Lady Constance recognizes Elsie's sincerity when she observes, "Aw, it's a pity, really.  I thought it was a good idea to have someone in the house who is actually sorry he's dead."  Despite her wary skepticism, Elsie is a good person who deserves a happy ending in the film.  That's why it's so satisfying when Hollywood-loving film buff Elsie ("I only cut it out for Garbo.  I prefer the American stars.  I think they've got more oomph") gets asked at the end of the movie by Hollywood producer Morris Weissman (Bob Balaban) if she needs a ride into London in his car.

 
Weissman came to Gosford Park to do research as he prepares to produce "Charlie Chan in London."  Throughout the movie, we hear about his casting problems when he makes transatlantic phone calls to Hollywood.  Moments before he asks Elsie if she needs a lift, he states that the studio will allow him to cast anyone he wants, even an unknown, to play the English maid in the movie.  We immediately infer that Weissman's invitation to give Elsie a lift is not a come on (he's gay) but to seriously consider giving the unknown and inexperienced English girl a chance to come to Hollywood and become a movie star.  Elsie's discovery reminds me of Barbara Harris's discovery at the end of Altman's own "Nashville."  Just as Elsie's discovery came about due to the death of Sir William, in "Nashville" Harris's Albuquerque is discovered as a new singing star after the reigning queen of country music Barbara Jean (Ronee Blakley) has been assassinated while performing at a political rally.  Both characters are working class women who unexpectedly get a chance to prove themselves and we are glad to see them make it.  Elsie richly deserves this opportunity, especially since Elsie is rescuing Sir William's unloved dog Pip by taking him with her when she leaves.  She realizes that Weissman's offer is the opportunity to improve her life that Sir William always encouraged her to recognize and make the most of.  Because the real-life movie "Charlie Chan in London" featured a British actress named Elsa Buchanan who played the maid and who worked in movies throughout the 1930s, we can infer that Elsie did indeed go to Hollywood and have a career in movies.  The irony is that her imminent success in Hollywood is a tribute to the much-hated Sir William, as his mentoring and positive influence on Elsie proves to be one of his few redeeming qualities.  It's because of these subtle and richly layered nuances, which only become apparent after repeat viewings, that "Gosford Park" remains as eminently watchable as ever.