My review of Chinatown, which I wrote for the MFA Top 100 a while back...

Chinatown
Dir. by: Roman Polanski
Country: USA
Year: 1974
Running time: 125 minutes

“You’re a very nosey fella, kitty-kat, huh? You know what happens to nosey fellas? Huh? No? Wanna guess? Huh? No? They lose their noses.”

1974 was a brilliant year for film. The Godfather Part II revisited many of our favourite characters and storylines, and won an Oscar for it in the process. The Conversation was released, a smaller film from Coppola but just as equally unmissable. And Roman Polanski directed the provocative, evocative, virtuoso tour de force Chinatown.

In the sun-baked, dried-out, hot and roasting pre-war Los Angeles of the 1930s, Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson), a private eye who makes a living of snooping after straying spouses, is hired by Evelyn Mulwray to find out with whom exactly her husband is having an affair. But then he finds that he hasn’t been hired by Mrs Mulwray at all. And then, when Mister Mulwray is found dead in a reservoir, Gittes finds himself in a shadowy world full of intrigue, deceit, incest, corruption, knives, noses, and watery murders.

The labyrinthine detective-story plot of Chinatown, as complex as it is, is one of its main strengths (of which it has many). It’s one of those exceptional work-of-genius stories, reminiscent of both Chandler novels and film noir, a wonderfully woven mystery that intrigues the viewer as it twists and turns towards its unforgettable ending. Definitely one that is appreciate increasingly the more it is watched.

Nicholson is often hailed as one of the great actors, and his talent is as evident here as it would be in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975/Forman). To the streetwise private eye, he brings tremendous onscreen persona, doing whatever he can to find out what he must in order to make a living. The quick transition from his angry outburst in the barber’s to the subsequent laughing at the “screw like a Chinaman” joke is a stark example of the variety he gives the role. On the other hand, Faye Dunaway brings an exceptional complexity to the character of Evelyn Mulwray, who at first, like all film noir female leads, is the suspect, before becoming the victim—and the secret she’s hiding is very dark indeed. Huston is haunting as the deranged maniac, “a very dangerous man.”

Polanski has always been a master of setting. His deliberate direction, besides carrying along the gripping plot of personal and political graft, also captures the desperate and desolate atmosphere of 1930s LA with brilliant precision. Jerry Goldsmith’s score, albeit not seeming appropriately jazzy enough to begin with, certainly grows on you with each viewing, and is perfectly reminiscent of 1940s film noir. Even the Technicolor cinematography, which is normally contrary to film noir theory, is printed under a muted orange filter, which captures the era and setting magnificently. But it is arguably Richard Sylbert’s film. The production designer’s accuracy is apparent throughout, from the cars to the clothes, buildings both exterior and interior, even down to the barber’s chair. As brilliant as it is overall, it’s the authenticity that stands out.

And as fantastic as Robert Towne’s Oscar-winning script is as a whole, the film is made up of many overly measured memorable scenes. Look out for Polanski as the knife wielding “midget” in a tremendously menacing turn. Dunaway’s highlight comes in the “sister…daughter…sister…daughter” (slap! slap!) scene, while the orange growths pursuit is directed with manipulative surprise, as the horse chases after Gittes in his reversing car. And then there’s the ending…

Mick