The Chase (1966)

Brando in one of those tour-de-force performances -- Reflections in a Golden Eye and Burn! also come to mind -- that make his longtime overlooked 1960s work such a delightful surprise. In fact, Brando's Sheriff Calder is so understated that it could be somehow easily underestimated, were not for the brilliance with which he delivers lines so memorable as "With all the pistols you got there, Emily, I don't believe there's room for mine." And, of course, there is the scene where Brando takes probably the bloodiest beating of his career, even reminiscing of On the Waterfront in that the viewer can see through Calder's eyes for a few seconds. His face is just a pulp, and his painfully Quixotic quest to do right in this wronged town materializes shockingly before the bunch of towners looking at him as if they couldn't feel any compassion at all; that image of a lawman doing justice no matter what summarises the filmmakers' point of view and the core significance of this film, one of the key titles to understand America at the time.

Produced by Sam Spiegel (On the Waterfront, Lawrence of Arabia, The Last Tycoon), and directed with typical bravura by Arthur Penn, The Chase is a piece which dares to touch the most taboo, shameful social and political issues of a nation, from the contemporary perspective of such a conflicted decade. Not only the courage to speak their minds is to commend on everyone involved, though. From the intelligent widescreen framing to the somber, ominous cinematography in Technicolor, to another fine score by John Barry, this ethical statement is a work of art too, and one that is quite a great film in strictly cinematic terms.

Check out Robert Redford as the tragic Bubber Reeves, a victim of a malaise with Biblical connotations. There is something mythical in the story, but there is also something mystic about it. Brando is beaten up for the sins of others this time. Yet, there is a Pontius Pilate kind of role for his somewhat Christ-like Sheriff. Both him and Redford are misunderstood to the point that one of them has to die because of that distorted perception. Redford's Bubber is one of those figures doomed right from the start -- his runaway fellow kills a man gratuitously and gets in the dead's car alone, already in the movie's first sequence --, and the soon-to-be star plays it beautifully. Jane Fonda as his wife and, especially, James Fox as his friend and Fonda's lover make the most of their roles. Other good job from the cast is Robert Duvall's, reading another Horton Foote's screenplay after his mesmerizing debut in To Kill a Mockingbird; his Dustin Hoffman-like, weak husband would have been sometimes unbearable without the actor's solid technique. Also of note is E. G. Marshall as the local tycoon who has a relationship not less damaged with his son Fox than Miriam Hopkins, yet another worthy performance, has with her boy Bubber.

All in all a compelling picture that is on top of it a great entertainment, a real suspenseful thriller.