DNA's Daniel Pinto takes a look at some of the greatest films of the New Hollywood Era of 1971, which saw the introduction of social realism, hitherto undisplayed acts of sex and violence and path-breaking techniques in direction, cinematography and acting.
Johnny Got His Gun
Echoing All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) and Paths of Glory (1952), Johnny Got His Gun depicted the terrors of world war one, with the charging into demonic machine gun fire, the rotting away of corpses in rat-infested trenches. Yet, the film lingered on a living, breathing nightmare. Picture if you will, a faceless lad ripped apart from his loved ones who is then confined in an alien infirmary bed and deprived of sight, vision, speech and limbs. This typifies the horror the film holds for young Joe Bonham (Timothy Bottoms), who is left to divine signs from the outside world through vague vibrations. Joe’s febrile mind cannot distinguish between reality (in grainy black and white) and in fantasy (muted colors) where we visit his childhood, his last day with his sweetheart and encounters a tragically impotent Jesus Christ (those bits were written by master surrealist Luis Banuel). The film was Dalton Trumbo’s adaptation of his own 1938 National Book Award winner of the same name. Trumbo’s screenwriting for The Brave One and Roman Holiday, while being famously blacklisted from Hollywood for espousing the communist cause, won him 2 Oscars.
In dark irony, the film ends with the words: War Dead Since 1914: Over 80,000,000 Missing or Mutilated: Over 150,000,000 "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"(It is sweet and fitting to die for one's country)
Klute
Ever get the feeling you were being watched? A lot about Klute can be understood from its tagline. ‘One man is missing. Two girls lie dead. ...and someone breathing on the other end of the phone.’
Bree Daniels, played by Jane Fonda in an Academy Award-winning performance, who practices the world’s oldest profession (and is seemingly proud of it), receives a strange visitor one day and it’s none other than the eponymous ‘hero’ John Klute, a small-town cop who’s investigating the case of a missing businessman whose obscene letters to her were unearthed.In an unsteady relationship, the two learn that Bree, who is prone to looking over her shoulder, might be the key to a deeper mystery involving murder and eception. Donald Sutherland, (aka Jesus from Johnny Got His Gun) givers a rock-solid but vastly understated performance, contrasting that of Fonda’s headstrong yet vulnerable one. With its occasional shots from the stalkers perspective and spine-tinglingy score courtesy Michael Small, Alan J Pakula’s sets the tone for the first of his ‘paranoia trilogy’.
Get Carter
When the mysterious death of his brother prompts gruesome London gangster Jack Carter to revisit the working-class neighbourhood in Newcastle upon Tyne, old acquaintances and petty crime chieftains (one of whom is played by renowned playwright John Osborne whose kitchen sink realism doesn’t quite fit here) best watch their back. In Mike Hodges’s adaptation of Ted Lewis’s Jack’s Return Home, Michael Caine, wondrously one-dimensional, exudes toughness in his amoral, hard-boiled role that rich in humor, gallows or otherwise, and heart rending tragedy (no, he’s anatomically incapable of breaking down; the tears, in an iconic scene, that silently stream down his stolid face give way to rampageous rage). The film, featuring the jazz music of Roy Budd and shot entirely on location in Newcastle by Ulysses cinematographer Wolfgang Suschitzky, didn’t just push the envelope with the violence; there is that notorious scene with Carter engaging in phone sex scene with Britt Ekland as his land lady looks on.
While critics were less than overwhelmed with the force of nature-size badass before them andthe film’s " virtuoso viciousness" (to quote one), the film has been aged better with Total Film poll declaring it the greatest Britishfilm of all time. The 2002 Razzie-nominated remake with Sylvester Stallone where Caine played a supporting role on the other hand…
Bananas
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