Network The key concept and conceit of
Network is laid out by Faye Dunaway's Diana Christensen in her first scene, a typically wordy, virtual monologue; the sort that makes the film a kind of cinematic platform game. You jump from one great speechifying scene to another in long audacious chunks of dialogue. She expounds to her clearly disinterested staff that Vietnam, Watergate, CIA shenanigans etc, etc. have turned America into a dulled land looking for the next thrill. The proof is in Howard Beale's initial promise of suicide that is entirely missed by the distracted staff in the production booth watching him. This to explain her interest in a piece of film where urban terrorists film themselves robbing an Arizona bank assisted by an heiress they kidnapped three weeks earlier. This is her template for network programming to stimulate the masses and return this network UBS to financial health.
The demented Howard Beale who is concurrently melting down over on the news programme is destined to become her star and pawn, the key to this insane masterplan. The fact that the throwback head of news Max Schumacher has drunkenly detailed the same plan for the terrorist hour with Beale, who then goes on air to reveal the plan is deep irony. Schumacher, played with growling, moral majesty by William Holden creates the Beale monster, uses him to screw his bosses on air in the second of Beale's mind farts; then has to battle to put the genie back in the bottle.
'You are tv incarnate'. In the first half hour, Sidney Lumet and Paddy Chayefsky introduce an entire corporate hierarchy of shirt and tie types, the kind that typically blend into the wallpaper in business based films. That character defines these people and not business titles means that even with a roaring plot unfolding centre stage none of these characters gets lost in a confusing mix. Corporate evil is represented by Robert DuVall in a raging, hard-faced performance. Dunaway is pretty much out of control throughout the film even though Finch is the designated madman of the piece. It is the centring performance of Holden, who moves in and out of the story; actually providing a commentary of events; which reminds me of his turn in
Sunset Boulevard that balances the dark forces.
'I'm Imbued' 'It is the exulted flow of the space/time continuum' 'How you doing Mr. Beale?'
'I must make my witness'.
'Sure thing Mr. Beale' ...and then the film changes into....King Lear. Peter Finch delivers the epitome of the modern madman. He talks to a greater force in his dreams, he extemporises his delusion becomes the tool of some divine inspiration. He has his day walking in the storm as his kingdom crumbles- soooo Shakespearean. Whilst the scene that this builds up to is so well known that it is almost a cliche, it becomes almost an inevitable conclusion to what comes before. In a film that has contemporary messages and parables pouring out of it, it is possible to simply watch this as a cautionary tale about the weakness and potential madness within any of us, and how obsession can destroy.
"Oh my god, I can't believe he CINECASTing swore on television" 'I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore'. How many ways can one phrase be spoken. Well if Finch received his posthumous Oscar for anything, it was for saying the same thing six very different ways. The crowd then take up the chant and add all kinds of variety to the phrase; building to an insensible roar; primal with the backing of a storm out of King Lear. Perhaps the genius of Sidney Lumet is that, in his most iconic moment in film-making, there is very little auteurism, no little touches that signify the control of a master; very straightforward directing. A director of actors, but also a film director with cinematic flourishes- not a play or a book.
'Hi, I'm Diana Christensen. A racist lackey of the imperialist ruling circles.'
'I'm Laureen Hobbs. A badass, commie n*****.' I think many films would have that 'mad as hell' scene as its finale. Having set up such a powerful premise, only in it's first hour it then plays out a number of plot strands to their logical conclusions. It is playful with all of them. A typical love scene where, instead of sweet nothings, Dunaway's character talks incessantly about tv ratings and ad breaks right up to the scene's...er...climax, and the terrorists are shown in negotiation for distribution points so that the Communist Party turns a profit on the Mao Tse-Tung Hour tv show. This is the weakest part of the film because this is one of those films where it is difficult to find sympathy for any of the players. It even does its best to denigrate Holden's Max Schumacher, who is characterised as an old man looking for a childish last hurrah, a roll in the sack; destroying his family for a fling. Again not many films take such trouble to examine the love lives of a 60 year old couple.
Lotso the Bear talks economics
If the film loses people I think it is after the 30th or 40th monologue from someone on some DEEEEEEEEEP subject or another. Pity because this is all byplay for the great Arthur Jensen speech. 'There is no America. There is no Democracy. There is only IBM, AT&T, etc. These are the nations of the world' Heavy, but when you have Lotso the Bear selling the message in roaring tones, it can seriously affect your world view. To be honest, never mind the serious messages, I can only admire a film that even attempts a vision this broad.
One of Beale's rants directly discusses the fear that people live their lives through television, vicariously. He says that the masses take their truth about the world from the tube, but that tv is more like a three ring circus. He says, 'We are in the boredom killing business'. These messages may have had more of a science-fiction feel in the mid-70s, a morality tale about the dangers of a future world. It isn't a stretch to say we live in
Network's future. Everyone can be a cameraman with their phone and the internet shows uncensored images of murder, insurrection and unjustifiable military action. So TV competes against the naked truth in a desperate struggle to turn a profit.
It makes
Network a valuable message, a dark fantasy rooted in the realities of cold shareholder driven business practices. It isn't perfect because the messages it tries to drive through are too large for a two hour movie, but the ambition is audacious. [I am going to leave
Network as my number one film.
Rear Window IS my idea of the most effortlessly perfect film and it has its own important messages about the nature of voyeurism. However, compared with the leviathan
Network it is a fluff piece. Perfection is overrated, anyway]