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Robert Redford goes on the run in conspiracy thriller Three Days of the Condor |
Director: Sydney Pollack
Cast: Robert Redford (Joseph Turner), Faye Dunaway (Kathy
Hale), Cliff Robertson (Director Higgins), Max von Sydow (Joubert), John
Houseman (Wabash), Addison Powell (Leonard Atwood), Walter McGinn (Sam Barber),
Tina Chen (Janice), Michael Kane (SW Wicks), Don McHenry (Dr Lappe)

Joseph Turner (Robert Redford) is a quiet, boyish, Robert-Redfordish
academic whose job is to read books published all over the world and report
back to the CIA any familiarities with any secret operations past or present,
or any good ideas from operations. One day, while out fetching lunch for his
colleagues, he returns to find they have all been murdered by a hit-team led by
a shadowy foreigner (Max von Sydow). Calling in the CIA, he finds he can’t
trust anyone – and is forced to hide out by kidnapping a woman, Kathy Hale
(Faye Dunaway), whom he bumps into in a shop.
Three Days of the
Condor opens with an electric pace. The build-up to the assassination of
Turner’s co-workers is extremely tense, while the immediate after effects – and
Turner’s lost, confused terror – is brilliantly involving. The stream of conspiracy-laced
events, and the unsettling lack of security about who to trust creates a
terrific mood of paranoia. Pollack’s editing is tight, and the photography
keeps the action naturalistic and eerily involving. It creates an unsettling
drama where no one can be trusted.
It taps perfectly into that 1970s vibe of the state being
omniscient and inhumane – Turner’s CIA contact will only talk to him using his
code name, shows no human interest in his deceased comrades and only asks if
Condor himself is “damaged”. Later Turner chippily asks why a senior agent is
addressed by his name, while he is only called Condor.
Redford is very good as Turner – perfectly convincing as the
bookish man thrust into circumstances where he is out of his depth, but whose
innate abilities to think fast and adapt allow him to believably keep one step
ahead of those pursuing him. The film has a love for the grimy Le Carre-ish
detail of espionage, which it mixes well with its James Bondish elements of
hitmen, violence and sex. The script has good lines, and several excellent set-pieces
that trade in that queasy feeling of being out-of-depth.
The momentum of the first half however eventually gets
bogged down in the “working out” of the conspiracy. This is a bit hampered by the
early acts of the movie being focused more on atmosphere than on plot build-up.
With the exact purpose and function of Redford’s CIA role only really being
loosely explained quite late on – and the various inter-relationships of the
assorted CIA bigwigs we see also not really being that clear – the final reveal
of the wrong uns is murky and doesn’t quite justify the build-up.
Part of this is the film’s 1970s vibe – its sense that the
resolution is, in a way, less important than the downer atmosphere and
conspiracy tension – but it’s also a bit of a narrative flaw. It’s hard to
invest in a story that never really gets put together or explained properly,
and doesn’t really give us a sense of the major stakes at play or the reasons
why various characters do what they do.
Other factors also have dated the film, principally the
relationship of Faye Dunaway’s Kathy and Redford’s Turner. Now there is an odd
Stockholm syndrome relationship if ever I saw one. From Kathy tearfully fearing
rape and assault for most of the first ten minutes of their screen time
together – and with no reason to believe the story Turner is peddling – sure
enough within a few hours of knowing each other this pair end up in bed
together. The film attempts to suggest Turner’s ability to understand her
personality (in a way no-one else ever has naturally) through her photographs brings
them together –but nevertheless it’s basically a hostage falling into bed with
her kidnapper, about 20 seconds after she stopped crying, after he has just
released her from being tied up and gagged in her own bathroom.
I guess it helps when your kidnapper looks like Robert
Redford – and the film uses Redford’s innate trustability well – but it’s a
little unsettling. Kathy swiftly becomes Turner’s little helper – but you never
really get a sense that the she is an actual character, or that the film even
really needs her that much. Dunaway is a good actress and plays the part very
well – but there is an unsettling submissiveness and even exploitation to her
character that dates the movie (not that we have moved past films where female
character’s principal role is to have sex with the hero to ease his pain). The
best you can say for this character is that she has “pluck”.
It’s dumping Turner down into Kathy’s home where the
momentum leaks out of the film slightly. It’s a film that feels like it’s going
to be set-up as a chase movie with a spy tinge, but it never really turns into
that. On top of which, it takes time away from properly developing Turner’s
enemies. His possible CIA opponents, led by Cliff Robertson and John Houseman,
don’t really come into focus as characters. The performer who does stand out –
largely because of the wry world-weariness he brings to the role – is Max von
Sydow as the hitman Joubert, a character I’d happily see more of (where was his
spin off?).
Three Days of the
Condor is a well-made triumph of atmosphere – but the later sections of the
film don’t quite live up to the build-up, and the film doesn’t quite snap
together as much as you would like in the second half. It gets lost in its
labyrinthine schemes and then doesn’t have a resolution that seems interesting
enough to make satisfying narrative sense. It’s got some great moments in it, but it’s a
flawed film.
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