Running Time: 127 minutes.
Let's talk MIDNIGHT RUN– undoubtedly, it's one of the funniest, most artistic, best-written, and best-acted buddy movies of the 1980s, or perhaps ever. It was recommended to me for years (and most successfully so by J.D.'s
terrific writeup over at Radiator Heaven), and I must say it was well worth the "Very Long Wait" it endured in my Netflix queue. It's a road trip-buddy movie without clichéd characterizations, and each and every role and setpiece feels lived in. In a year (1988) where one of the most acclaimed films (RAIN MAN) was a cloying and much less successful riff (in my opinion) on the convention, MIDNIGHT RUN has become a kind of sleeper classic, and one that I believe truly stands the test of time.
The plot is simple, but there's a lot of moving parts– consequently, even before we get to the characterizations it's a little more complex than the usual potboiler: a sleazy bondsman (Joe Pantoliano) unwittingly posts bail for an accountant (Charles Grodin) who has embezzled $15 million from a ferocious mob boss (Dennis Farina). With mafia assassins after him, Grodin has jumped bail and escaped cross-country, therefore Pantoliano employs a bounty hunter (Robert De Niro) to track him down in the five days he has left before he defaults on the massive bond. Finding Grodin is only half the battle, however– De Niro must bring him back, alone, and he faces stiff competition from a dirty bounty huntin' rival (John Ashton), a single-minded FBI agent (Yaphet Kotto), the aforementioned mafia assassins, double-crossin' informants, and even a helicopter.
In what is possibly the best De Niro vs. Helicopter scene in all of filmdom.
Whew. And there's so many shifting allegiances and players, it's practically Shakespearean. (Or at least GAME OF THRONES-ian.) And I must say that it
roughly does for bail bonds and bounty hunters what REPO MAN did for
that occupation; a seedy and offbeat journey across the American underbelly. I wish they made more films like this.
At the center of all this scheming and law-bending is the relationship between De Niro and Grodin (which, as J.D. astutely points out in his review, builds an atypical comedic relationship with two 'straight' men, eschewing the funny/zany guy), and boy, is it a doozy.
We watch them (successfully) get on each other's nerves for nearly two hours, usually by petty and/or absurd means,
but something spectacular happens along the way: it turns into one of the better character studies of the decade.
You expect De Niro, pre-"phoning-it-in era," to be excellent, and he is. And the way he naturally takes to the comedic role, particularly in his improvisations, is admirable. At one point, Grodin's character accuses him of having "only two forms of expression: silence and rage." While this may be true, De Niro gives us each and every color of those respective rainbows––it's like how they say the Inuit language has over two hundred different words for snow: De Niro has at least that many ways to express silence and rage!
I must say that this movie transformed my understanding of Charles Grodin. I suppose I'd become used to thinking of him as "the dad from BEETHOVEN who was in ROSEMARY'S BABY when he was really young," but holy Toledo– the man can
ACT!
The choices he makes are spectacular– you know him, and you believe he's real, but you can't fully
read him- he's wise, yet high-strung; paranoid, yet zen. You get the
idea that he just might be the smartest guy in the room, but you're unaware of his actual plan; like Michael Emerson's character on LOST but with an air of
benevolence instead of menace. He's always working an angle, and you can see it playing across his face, especially when nobody's looking.
His general demeanor is "disappointed" and nearly uninvolved, but make no mistake, he's heavily invested. In who or what, I shall not say.
Then there are all these beautiful, understated moments of pathos and verisimilitude that pepper their journey. De Niro has fleeting reunion with his ex-wife and daughter, and as it happens, we're really witnessing two scenes: the foreground with De Niro and his daughter, and the background with Grodin and the ex-wife (Wendy Phillips).
A lot of actors would have stood around while the main action played out, but not in this movie! The word of the day is "subtlety." Enrichment without pulling focus.
Shortly thereafter, there's a peculiar, tender moment as De Niro leads Grodin back to the car. You could say it is a prisoner being led by his captor; you could say it's two opposing forces about to be confined in a single space; you could say it's two human beings compelled into an uncomfortable position because of pressures beyond their control. No matter what you say, there's a sad dignity in the following, oddly paternal gesture whereupon De Niro repositions Grodin's overcoat so it doesn't get caught in the car door.
And that is the film in a nutshell. Many movies are simply a collection of scenes, and the makers are interested in getting from point A to B to C. If a journey by car is required to get from A to B, they'll put on their workgloves and hammer out a segue. It risks becoming a chore, a time-filler, a necessary evil. Here, that's not so. MIDNIGHT RUN breathes life from every pore, it's teeming with an authenticity that cannot be contained. Slamming a car door becomes an opportunity for character development, enlightenment, truth– not simply an audiovisual cue that we're about to move from one location to another. This is just one example out of dozens: I can already tell you that this film will reward multiple viewings.
Now, I don't want to give too much away– especially because, as the film progressed, I found myself legitimately not knowing how it was going to end. Do you realize how rare that is in an 80's buddy/action/crime/comedy? Such a thing must be savored!
In closing, here are ten bits of my beloved minutiae that I must mention in order to properly sing MIDNIGHT RUN's praises:
#1. Yaphet Kotto. Hell yes, Yaphet Kotto. Master of the slow burn.
I've never
not loved a scene that starred Yaphet Kotto, from LIVE AND LET DIE to ALIEN to THE RUNNING MAN to A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 6: FREDDY'S DEAD. His big, watery eyes are slow-cookin' with gentlemanly rage.
He plays it so deadpan, I suppose you could make the argument that
he's the true straight man of the piece. Carry on, Yaphet.
#2. Danny Elfman's score. It is the least-Danny Elfmanish Danny Elfman score ever. It's like honkytonk Ry Cooder meets a Huey Lewis and the News karaoke track. It's beautiful and terrible both, and it's still stuck in my head.
#3. Joey Pants. Mr. Pantoliano himself.
His stash of money in his pink socks, his terrible late 80s patterned shirts, his shit-eating grins, his sweaty combovers, his ratlike countenance– has anyone ever been better suited to play a bailbondsman? Perhaps not.
#4. Apparently the studio wanted George Gallo to rewrite the screenplay to accommodate Cher in the Charles Grodin role. When that didn't work, they were pulling for Robin Williams. Obviously, given the perfection of Grodin's performance, in either case it would have been a real movie killer. I just physically shivered. I don't even want to think about this.
#5. Philip Baker Hall (SECRET HONOR, BOOGIE NIGHTS, DOGVILLE) as a Las Vegas mob associate named "Sydney."
Fans of P.T. Anderson's
HARD EIGHT (aka SYDNEY) will note that he plays a washed-up Las Vegas gambler also named Sydney in that particular film. I realize that the continuity isn't perfect by any means, but seems like a little more than a coincidence. I'm just going to pretend it's an official sequel, and don't try to stop me.
#6. Cult maniac Tracey Walter (REPO MAN, THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, CONAN THE DESTROYER, BATMAN '90, RUMBLE FISH, THE HAND) as the proprietor of a greasy spoon diner.
That is his natural habitat, and all is right in the world.
#7. The "litmus configuration" scene (I will say no more
of the specifics) is a mini-masterpiece of actors playing characters who in turn
are "acting." Every element of the scene: the improv, the near crack-ups, the locale, the bystanders– it's perfection.
I think it even quietly transcends the classic "I hate rednecks" bar scene from
48 HRS., another classic buddy movie moment similarly founded on some harmless flim-flammin'.
#8. John Ashton. As an endearingly diabolical rival bounty hunter, John Ashton officially won me over with this movie. I'd probably seen him in half a dozen other roles (including BEVERLY HILLS COP, BREAKING AWAY, BORDERLINE, and SOME KIND OF WONDERFUL)
but only here did I see his acting chops on full display. You love to hate him, and he never lets up– though he's imbued with a few streaks of pathos that wouldn't usually be afforded to such a character.
#9. Dennis Farina. I suppose this movie is ostensibly a comedy, thought I hope I've adequately made the argument that that's not entirely the case. That fact is never more clear than when we get to sit down and meet Dennis Farina's mobster, up close. He starts tossing around death threats
and for a moment the movie turns legitimately scary. I applaud this.
#10. Another
cross-country fugitive road trip movie, NORTH BY NORTHWEST, gets a nice
nod when Robert De Niro
chases a crop duster– instead of the other way around.
I was speechless when I witnessed that moment, and speechless I shall remain.
But before I go, let me say: Five stars... and bravo!
–Sean Gill