Klute (1971)
Elegant Grunge
The two, pre-credit sequences of Alan J. Pakula’s Klute are set in the Gruneman household at a long table, shot head-on. In the first sequence, the table is full of family and friends. To the left, a man sits at its head; at the opposite end of the table, and the frame, is his wife. She catches his attention and holds up her glass in a silent toast. She smiles.
Pakula cuts to the second sequence, to the now empty chair at the head of the table—Tom Gruneman is missing. Mrs. Grumeman is in the same seat. The second head-on shot shows the almost empty table.
“Did you know the subject, Tom Gruneman?” a policeman asks John Klute (Donald Sutherland), who sits near Mrs. Gruneman.
“He was my best friend. We grew up together.”
Another friend, Cable (Charles Cioffi) stands to the left looking out at the night. The policeman asks Mrs. Gruneman about marital problems and produces an obscene letter found in Tom’s office. It is addressed to Bree Daniel, a call girl in New York City.
Then, the credits play over a tape recording of Bree’s voice, as she comes on to a john.
“Has anybody talked to you about the financial arrangements? […] Have you ever been with a woman before…paying her? […] I have a feeling that turns you on very particularly. […] Do you mind if I take my sweater off? Well, I think in the confines of one’s house, one should be free of clothing and inhibitions. Oh, inhibitions are always nice because they’re so nice to overcome. Don’t be afraid. I’m not—as long as you don’t hurt me more than I like to be hurt. I will do anything you ask.”
The credits end. Another head-on shot shows 10 women sitting beneath 3 huge images of woman’s face—a silver and pink positive image framed by a blue negative image to the left and a black-and-white negative image to the right. The women are being considered for a modeling position. Among them is Bree Daniel (Jane Fonda in her first Oscar winning performance).
This is how—with great elegance and economy—director Alan J. Pakula introduces his characters and sets up the poles of his story; the disturbed and bereft Gruneman home; the prostitute trying to change her life; the unseen, obsessive client with the tape recording; and the stoic Klute, about to start searching for the missing husband.
When Bree refuses to help him, Klute rents a basement room in her apartment building, and starts to follow her. But, he is not her only watcher, and she receives anonymous phone calls. Then, when Bree and Klute come to an uneasy truce, the world around them becomes seeder and more threatening.
Pakula made Klute in 1971. His second film, it was shot in the streets of Manhattan and East Harlem, in Central Park, in the Garment District, and at the docks, as well as in a studio on 127th Street and Second Avenue. And never has New York grunginess looked so elegant.
The movie was shot in Panavision—and you should watch the widescreen video or DVD edition, because Klute is one of the great widescreen movies. The framing by Pakula and director of photography Gordon Willis is superb. There are the beautifully tableaux-like opening sequences, the deep-red interiors of the night club where Klute meets the pimp Frank Ligourin (Roy Scheider), the cold blues and blacks of Cable’s office, and the cluttered clothesmaker’s workshop where Bree spins stories for a client. And, there are the often breathtaking shots of Bree’s apartment; for example, the moment when the red-haired Bree lies back on her couch in a vibrant red robe—a deep red pool in the middle of an otherwise completely black frame. This is one of the many beautiful images that grace the powerful and unsettling thriller Klute.
—John Bloomfield (20 May, 2002)
The two, pre-credit sequences of Alan J. Pakula’s Klute are set in the Gruneman household at a long table, shot head-on. In the first sequence, the table is full of family and friends. To the left, a man sits at its head; at the opposite end of the table, and the frame, is his wife. She catches his attention and holds up her glass in a silent toast. She smiles.
Pakula cuts to the second sequence, to the now empty chair at the head of the table—Tom Gruneman is missing. Mrs. Grumeman is in the same seat. The second head-on shot shows the almost empty table.
“Did you know the subject, Tom Gruneman?” a policeman asks John Klute (Donald Sutherland), who sits near Mrs. Gruneman.
“He was my best friend. We grew up together.”
Another friend, Cable (Charles Cioffi) stands to the left looking out at the night. The policeman asks Mrs. Gruneman about marital problems and produces an obscene letter found in Tom’s office. It is addressed to Bree Daniel, a call girl in New York City.
Then, the credits play over a tape recording of Bree’s voice, as she comes on to a john.
“Has anybody talked to you about the financial arrangements? […] Have you ever been with a woman before…paying her? […] I have a feeling that turns you on very particularly. […] Do you mind if I take my sweater off? Well, I think in the confines of one’s house, one should be free of clothing and inhibitions. Oh, inhibitions are always nice because they’re so nice to overcome. Don’t be afraid. I’m not—as long as you don’t hurt me more than I like to be hurt. I will do anything you ask.”
The credits end. Another head-on shot shows 10 women sitting beneath 3 huge images of woman’s face—a silver and pink positive image framed by a blue negative image to the left and a black-and-white negative image to the right. The women are being considered for a modeling position. Among them is Bree Daniel (Jane Fonda in her first Oscar winning performance).
This is how—with great elegance and economy—director Alan J. Pakula introduces his characters and sets up the poles of his story; the disturbed and bereft Gruneman home; the prostitute trying to change her life; the unseen, obsessive client with the tape recording; and the stoic Klute, about to start searching for the missing husband.
When Bree refuses to help him, Klute rents a basement room in her apartment building, and starts to follow her. But, he is not her only watcher, and she receives anonymous phone calls. Then, when Bree and Klute come to an uneasy truce, the world around them becomes seeder and more threatening.
Pakula made Klute in 1971. His second film, it was shot in the streets of Manhattan and East Harlem, in Central Park, in the Garment District, and at the docks, as well as in a studio on 127th Street and Second Avenue. And never has New York grunginess looked so elegant.
The movie was shot in Panavision—and you should watch the widescreen video or DVD edition, because Klute is one of the great widescreen movies. The framing by Pakula and director of photography Gordon Willis is superb. There are the beautifully tableaux-like opening sequences, the deep-red interiors of the night club where Klute meets the pimp Frank Ligourin (Roy Scheider), the cold blues and blacks of Cable’s office, and the cluttered clothesmaker’s workshop where Bree spins stories for a client. And, there are the often breathtaking shots of Bree’s apartment; for example, the moment when the red-haired Bree lies back on her couch in a vibrant red robe—a deep red pool in the middle of an otherwise completely black frame. This is one of the many beautiful images that grace the powerful and unsettling thriller Klute.
—John Bloomfield (20 May, 2002)
posted by John Bloomfield at 10:26 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home