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WSWS : Arts
Review : Film
Reviews
Out of Sight: Steven Soderbergh makes do, but what
does he make?
By David Walsh
3 July 1998
Steven Soderbergh is one of the more talented American film
directors. In six previous feature films, including sex, lies
and videotape, Kafka, King of the Hill and Schizopolis,
he has examined social and personal relations in an unsettling
manner and from a number of different angles. Unfortunately, neither
of his most recent efforts, Schizopolis and Gray's Anatomy,
a filmed version of one of actor/performer Spalding Gray's monologues,
was a commercial success. This has apparently obliged him to seek
work as a director of more conventional fare. Hence his role in
the production of Out of Sight.
In the new film George Clooney plays a bank robber, Jack Foley,
who escapes from a Florida prison and ends up sharing the trunk
of the getaway car with a federal marshal, Karen Sisco, played
by Jennifer Lopez. Their unlikely relationship is the main thread
of the film. Later they meet again in Detroit. Foley is there
to take part in a heist of uncut diamonds; Karen is there to arrest
him--or is she there because he interests her? In any event, one
could say, I suppose, that Karen gets the best of it. She sleeps
with Foley and subsequently gets to shoot and arrest him.
A chief difficulty with Out of Sight, from a novel by
Elmore Leonard, is that there is nothing seriously convincing
about a single one of the story's critical elements. We are expected
to believe that Jack, a relatively gentle and genial soul, is
responsible for 200 bank robbers and that while in prison he would
attempt to foil, simply through his smart mouth, the schemes of
a pathological killer and his equally pathological associate.
After his escape from jail we are expected to believe that he
would actively pursue a relationship with the federal marshal
hunting him. (The word 'unlikely' has a real content.) We are
expected to believe that the federal marshal would be seen dallying
for some time in a public place with a prison escapee presumably
on every law enforcement agency's most-wanted list. We are expected
to believe that a top financial shark would let it become public
knowledge that he had a fortune in diamonds sitting around his
mansion and that he would make no arrangements to protect them.
And so forth...
The film, true to Leonard's style, boasts a collection of relentlessly
"off-beat" characters. Ving Rhames plays a thief who
has a compulsion to confess his crimes to his sister, Steve Zahn
a stoned surfer type and hot-shot car thief, Luis Guzman a convict
obsessed with magic tricks, Keith Loneker a bodyguard whose clumsiness
culminates in his shooting himself in the head. The characters'
idiosyncrasies, however, don't lead anywhere, one doesn't learn
anything from them. They are arbitrary, dead ends, simply added
for effect. The contradictoriness of life is reduced in Leonard's
novels to quirkiness. This is the sort of material that is described
by contemporary critics as "wised up and witty."
Foley, specifically, the suave and sensual man of words and
man of action, is a consummate fantasy creation. The middle-aged,
middle-class writer says to himself, "I would be exactly
like that--if only the circumstances were right!"
Leonard used to be a modest crime-novel writer. It was possible
to read and even enjoy him then. Now, according to Universal Pictures'
production notes, he is "considered one of the leading American
authors of the 20th Century." This is not amusing, it is
simply painful. Of course, the judgment is not primarily an aesthetic
one, so perhaps one should not take offense. Leonard's primary
qualification, in the world-encompassing view of a Hollywood film
publicist, as one of the century's leading authors is that his
novels have formed the basis, in the last few years, for several
films, including Get Shorty (a box office hit) and Quentin
Tarantino's Jackie Brown.
The film's leading performers are also a problem. In interviews
Clooney appears to be an affable and intelligent person. Perhaps,
as much as anything else, he is stuck with his current screen
persona. In any event, as things stand now, the actor is a walking
smirk. It cannot be healthy for anyone to be that pleased with
himself. Only in one scene, in which he blows up at the financier
who has treated him shabbily, does he go beyond what we have to
come to expect of him. Possibly in the future he will be allowed
or will allow himself to do something more challenging.
Jennifer Lopez is attractive, but generates very little heat.
She looks at the camera lens as though it were a mirror in which
she is continually checking her figure. Anyway, she portrays a
federal marshal. And I am tired of films siding with police, telling
us how human they are. Playing a representative of law and order
today in America is not a neutral act, it's not the same as playing
a plumber or a taxi driver. More than one million people are behind
bars, executions are frequent. Even without wanting to, one takes
on responsibility for too much misery, too much cruelty. It inevitably
gives a certain coloring to the performance. If we take Karen
seriously as a woman of compassion and humanity then she is not
a cop, if we take her seriously as a cop then she is not a woman
of compassion and humanity.
Soderbergh does his best to enliven the film. He is imaginative
and has an extraordinary eye. His shots of inanimate objects are
extraordinary. He makes a considerable effort to ignite the seduction
and love scenes between Jack and Karen. He almost succeeds, single-handedly,
with his odd cuts and freeze frames. But while Soderbergh is electrifying,
his performers are static and mostly worried, one gets the feeling,
about their looks and their careers. One has to have active participants
to do something truly interesting in a film.
When I interviewed Soderbergh in September 1996 he voiced,
without prompting, his distaste for the current state of the film
industry. He spoke, I think, with utter sincerity. (Soderbergh
referred with a certain amount of hauteur at that time to his
own film, The Underneath (1995), a remake of a film
noir. It must be said that in nearly every way the latter
film is superior to Out of Sight.) And I don't imagine
now that he feels chastened by the experience with Schizopolis
and Gray's Anatomy. Out of Sight was not his own
project, he pursued it and thereby "inherited," as he
explains, a script and leading performers. He told one reporter,
"Every nine years, I think that's fair, to make a movie that
people go to see, that doesn't seem greedy to me."
One can feel a certain sympathy for Soderbergh. He is a serious
film-maker obliged to earn a living and maintain a career in an
unforgiving and at this point still largely vacuous industry.
It must have been very difficult to absorb the philistine abuse
he received for the ambitious, if not entirely successful Schizopolis,
described as a "self-indulgent misadventure" and "unwatchable"
by one critic quite pleased with his new film.
Nonetheless, every film, like every public or private act,
has consequences. Out of Sight will strengthen, if only
slightly, the hold of a certain kind of writing and film-making.
It will strengthen, if only slightly, the grip of certain social
views. It will strengthen, if only slightly, a kind of complacency
and thoughtlessness in approaching life and its problems.
This is not the end of the world, but couldn't it have been
avoided? One hopes Soderbergh will not be a permanently less interesting
director for the experience.
See Also:
Jackie Brown: The question
remains: something or nothing?
[5 February 1998]
Schizopolis:
Steven Soderbergh, an American independent
[2 December 1996]
The Underneath:
A film noir updated
[3 July 1995]
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