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Growing up
as the child of dirty hippies, I was introduced to the plight
of Ruben “Hurricane” Carter at an early age.
Via the Bob Dylan song, I learned that Carter was the
number one contender for the middleweight boxing title until
he was accused, falsely tried and convicted of a grisly triple
murder by an all-white jury.
The song also detailed the cover-ups, witness tampering
and corruption ranging from the local police to the judge that
handed Carter his life sentence. Pretty heavy subject matter for a song (thank God that Dylan
was writing in blank verse), not to mention my five-year-old
brain. The tale
seemed inconceivable, even to a kid whose biggest concern was
trying to get the brake on his Big Wheel to make him spin to a
groovy halt.
Still, I
approached the film with apprehension.
First, you have to consider the fact that you’re
basically seeing a movie that will offer no surprises.
It’s a biopic and, like Man on the Moon, based
on real-life events that most people already know.
Then there’s director Norman Jewison.
He’s made some decent films, especially when he
focuses on racial injustice, but his last two (Bogus
and Only You) really stunk up the joint.
And then there’s Denzel Washington (The Bone
Collector), an actor who, in my opinion, is one of the
most overrated in the business (it’s a photo-finish with
Liam Neeson). But
since The Hurricane has already been praised by critics
worldwide, I felt I should probably check my preconceptions at
the box office window.
Hurricane
is a good film. Is it a Best Picture candidate?
Absolutely not. Does
it belong on Top Ten lists?
Not unless you’ve only seen two dozen movies in 1999.
I’m not even sure that you can call the film
entertaining, considering the depressing material and lack of
surprises. It is
simply a good film.
Among its
strengths is the way the film is assembled.
Instead of going for the simple, linear, timeline
approach, Jewison skips from Carter’s welterweight title
fight in 1963; to the release of his novel, “The 16th
Round,” in 1973; to the murders in 1966; to Carter’s youth
in Patterson, New Jersey; to the “present day,” when a
group of Canadians lead a fight to free the imprisoned boxer.
Jewison is able to pull this off without Hurricane
seeming too jumpy or confusing.
Also
commendable is Roger Deakins’ (The Big Lebowski)
cinematography, which is fantastic without being intrusive.
His camera-work, especially during the grainy
black-and-white fight, is quite remarkable. At this point in post-Raging Bull cinema, it’s
almost a requirement that all fight scenes be filmed in
black-and-white, but Deakins does more than just use
black-and-white stock: He
gives these scenes such a dated look that you can almost hear
Howard Cosell calling the action.
But the
biggest surprise of all is Washington, who does a really great
job in the titular role.
The usually one-dimensional actor manages to appear
angry, scared and delusional at the same time.
There is one standout scene where he meets with his
lawyers and they do that whole
talking-on-the-phone-separated-by-a-thick-pane-of-glass thing.
Washington gets so worked up that his side of the glass
starts to get steamed up.
Or maybe he just had really bad gas.
Hurricane
certainly isn’t without flaws, though.
It’s one slow-moving train, punctuated by a tedious
scene of Carter in “the hole.”
It feels like we’re watching the entire ninety-day
ordeal play out in real time.
I also have a big problem with the creation of the
fictional character Detective Vincent Della Pesca (Dan Hedaya,
Dick). The
detective is portrayed as a bigot that sat around and dreamed
up ways to incarcerate Carter.
Sound familiar? It
should - it’s the O.J. defense.
While I understand his inclusion intends to illustrate
the corruption of the system, it’s really hard to swallow.
I’m sure that law enforcement officers wish they had
this kind of free time on their hands. The character does nothing but potentially incite hatred
toward police. And
that just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
2:25
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for adult language, violence and racial stuff
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