Spielberg has constructed and shot his first feature film with skill. The camera seems to be exactly where it should be in every shot. The editing is done with skill, and Vilmos Zsigmond's photography vividly evokes a bare and wintry day in southern Texas. The musical score is a kind of whimsical folksy harmonica solo smacking of a Christmas carol. It was written by John Williams, he of the bum bum bum bum shark theme from "Jaws". His scores are usually orchestrated, fully and fulsomely, but you'd never know it from this spare tune.
The director got a fine screenplay out of Hal Barwood and Matthew Robbins. Most of these good folks sound dumber than they are. And the performers really get into the characters. Sometimes they ARE the characters.
Here's an example that always cracks me up. Ben Johnson is a captain in the Texas Highway Patrol (or whatever) and has brought Goldie Hawn's wrinkled old father down to talk to his daughter over the police radio, urging her to surrender. Johnson has just given the old timer instructions on how to use the microphone in the police car. Hawn's father listens intently. Then we expect him to say something like, "Gimme the mike." Instead, in his cracked and weathered voice, he repeats Johnson's instructions word by word: "Press -- this -- button -- and speak -- in a NORMAL tone of voice." It's as if he's trying to memorize all of the instructions for getting the most out of Windows 8. And Johnson plays the scene straight and convincingly, showing a total respect for the man, being sure to call him "Sir", probably as Johnson would in real life. The father is played by George Hagy, who never made another appearance on any screen and who was probably picked out on the spot from the crowd of extras.
The story is simple. Goldie Hawn talks her prisoner husband, William Atherton, into escaping from pre-release, planning to kidnap their baby and flee to Mexico. The police soon catch on and the pair take a highway patrol officer, Michael Sacks, hostage and ride off to the baby's home in Sugar Land, followed by a string of police cars a mile long.
There are numerous comic incidents, and a few scenes involving gun shots and action. I hope the stunt men were paid well for the scene in which the news van flips over into a puddle. In some ways, the movie follows a trajectory illustrated by "Bonny and Clyde." As the scenes of action progress, they get more serious until they turn tragic. The couple are also lauded and helped by the ordinary folks of the towns they drive through. Spielberg has kept an eye on the size and response of the audience.
It's not an art film. Hawn's and Atherton's first escape vehicle is an old clunker that steams and bangs at its full speed of twenty miles an hour, but when the escapees spin around to elude the police, the sound of the engine changes from a loud knock-knock-knock to that of a Formula V Maserati. And, for my taste, too much time is given to cute Baby Langston, a habit Spielberg has rarely been able to shake. In ninety percent of respectable movies, all children should be stomped. Their appearances tend to cheapen the film, except in W. C. Fields' movies.
Goldie Hawn is sexy and delivers a fine performance as the mercurial screecher with the IQ of a head of broccoli. Whose breath blew out the light within this brain? Atherton, with his vacant face, is okay as the submissive husband. Once in a while, a pale beam of reality shines through his antics, but generally his character prompts one to ask whose was the hand that slanted back this brow? As the police officer who is their hostage, Michael Sacks is earnest and although he gets to like his captors and play games with them, he at least is in touch with the outer world. Ben Johnson is simple but reliable, and I miss the guy.
The director got a fine screenplay out of Hal Barwood and Matthew Robbins. Most of these good folks sound dumber than they are. And the performers really get into the characters. Sometimes they ARE the characters.
Here's an example that always cracks me up. Ben Johnson is a captain in the Texas Highway Patrol (or whatever) and has brought Goldie Hawn's wrinkled old father down to talk to his daughter over the police radio, urging her to surrender. Johnson has just given the old timer instructions on how to use the microphone in the police car. Hawn's father listens intently. Then we expect him to say something like, "Gimme the mike." Instead, in his cracked and weathered voice, he repeats Johnson's instructions word by word: "Press -- this -- button -- and speak -- in a NORMAL tone of voice." It's as if he's trying to memorize all of the instructions for getting the most out of Windows 8. And Johnson plays the scene straight and convincingly, showing a total respect for the man, being sure to call him "Sir", probably as Johnson would in real life. The father is played by George Hagy, who never made another appearance on any screen and who was probably picked out on the spot from the crowd of extras.
The story is simple. Goldie Hawn talks her prisoner husband, William Atherton, into escaping from pre-release, planning to kidnap their baby and flee to Mexico. The police soon catch on and the pair take a highway patrol officer, Michael Sacks, hostage and ride off to the baby's home in Sugar Land, followed by a string of police cars a mile long.
There are numerous comic incidents, and a few scenes involving gun shots and action. I hope the stunt men were paid well for the scene in which the news van flips over into a puddle. In some ways, the movie follows a trajectory illustrated by "Bonny and Clyde." As the scenes of action progress, they get more serious until they turn tragic. The couple are also lauded and helped by the ordinary folks of the towns they drive through. Spielberg has kept an eye on the size and response of the audience.
It's not an art film. Hawn's and Atherton's first escape vehicle is an old clunker that steams and bangs at its full speed of twenty miles an hour, but when the escapees spin around to elude the police, the sound of the engine changes from a loud knock-knock-knock to that of a Formula V Maserati. And, for my taste, too much time is given to cute Baby Langston, a habit Spielberg has rarely been able to shake. In ninety percent of respectable movies, all children should be stomped. Their appearances tend to cheapen the film, except in W. C. Fields' movies.
Goldie Hawn is sexy and delivers a fine performance as the mercurial screecher with the IQ of a head of broccoli. Whose breath blew out the light within this brain? Atherton, with his vacant face, is okay as the submissive husband. Once in a while, a pale beam of reality shines through his antics, but generally his character prompts one to ask whose was the hand that slanted back this brow? As the police officer who is their hostage, Michael Sacks is earnest and although he gets to like his captors and play games with them, he at least is in touch with the outer world. Ben Johnson is simple but reliable, and I miss the guy.