Not to be confused with Jay McInerny's Japan-set follow-up to his seminal 80's novel, "Bright Lights, Big City," or Mel Gibson and Ron Howard's stab at the same material, Glen Ford and company tackle the "title" and the kidnapping tale-of-woe with a heavy splash of sweat and hysteria. Sans modern pyrotechnics, the straight-forward narrative and sharp, clean black and white photography are welcome additions to any film library. Ford is a mass of twisted piano wire. Intense. Brooding. Furious. He rages against everyone in sight. Donna Reed spins from cool, detached resolve to loopy mush. The family doctor sends her to her bedroom loaded with tranquilizers. The kidnapper is never on screen--except for a burning cigarette. And maybe a shadow or two. The black actors are given more to do than usual. The butler has the run of the house and is a deacon. He wears his religion in full view of all the others. Fatherly, he hugs Ford in his hour of need. Could this be the first interracial embrace in movie history? Ford is a very affluent man and has a television anchored in his bookcase. I could see why Gibson was drawn to this material. Ford, jumping all over the place during a "live" broadcast, slaps his hand down over the Bible with such fervor, he almost flattens the tome into a leather pancake. Ouch. Finally, if the ransom gets payed, what are the odds the boy will be returned alive? Two to one. I know this because the police chief and the good book tells Ford so. Perfect.
Review of Ransom!
