Cape Fear

Every single review on the Net I've checked out for this movie starts by referencing the original film. But, the thing is, almost everyone has seen this movie, and not very many people at all (at least, any more) have seen the original film. So, why even bother to make the comparison? Suffice it to say, I have seen both, and Scorsese's is better, but the two takes on the material are different enough to provide this film an adequate reason to exist. So, 'nuff said. On with the review:



After seeing Meet the Fockers this week, I've been reconsidering the recent career of Robert De Niro. I'm tempted to say that he's just in it for the money at this point, and has abandoned even the notion of actually acting in a real movie. Granted, I liked Fockers. It's pleasant enough, and had a few big laughs. But the real stars of the film are Dustin Hoffman and Barbra Streisand. Except for the few carried-over routines from the original film (like De Niro's threatening "I'm watching you" gestures to Ben Stiller), he's barely even present in this film. Combine this with crud like Godsend, Hide and Seek, City by the Sea, Shark Tale, Analyze That, Showtime, The Score, 15 Minutes, Men of Honor and The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle, and you have a pretty good idea about this guy's level of commitment to his craft.

Man, can you believe how many fucking awful movies I just typed? I can only imagine that doing such strong, draining, intense work in so many quality films throughout the 70's, 80's and most of the 90's just took it out of this guy, made him turn his back on his art and embrace commercialism. So, anyway, my point is, it's unbelievable that the guy who played Max Cady in 1991 would find himself hamming it up as Fearless Leader less than a decade later.

Cady, for the uninitiated, is a recently released ex-con with a strong backwoods accent and a penchant for rape. He blames his court-appointed attorney, played ably if stiffly by Nick Nolte, for his extended sentence, as he discovered in prison that a key witnesses testimony had not been entered in as evidence.

Unlike Robert Mitchum's Cady in the first film, who was a quiet but intense man, consumed from within by anger and vengeance, De Niro's take is a brilliant yet psychotic horrorshow, a monster in the tradition of Leatherface and Jason. His Cady is almost unbelievably clever, as he threatens and terrifies Nolte's family without ever actually violating a single law.

The ineffectual police (led by Mitchum in one of the film's many references to its predecessor) can't go after Cady, and Nolte finds himself alone in his efforts to protect his wife (Jessica Lange) and their 15 year old daughter (a wonderful Juliette Lewis, in the role that made her a star). He hires a private detective (Joe Don Baker) and files a restraining order, but Cady just keeps coming back, muttering threats under his breath and possibly even killing the family dog (a charge he continually denies).

Soon enough, Nolte and Company drive out to their houseboat on Cape Fear, apparently ignorant of the concept of irony. And this leads to the insanely dramatic, chaotic final confrontation, in one of the most grandiose action set pieces Scorsese has ever attempted.

The film's a lot of fun, and the violent climax, on board the houseboat as it careens through rapids during an impossibly intense storm, lives up to its hype. But a good deal of the film feels a little flat. De Niro's Cady so overwhelms all the other performers, and even the sure-handed Scorsese direction, everything else begins to feel like a distraction. No matter how well-shot the scenes showing Lange and Nolte's marriage dissolving, we can't help but yearn to return to De Niro, just to see what the mad tattooed freak is up to this time.

That being said, when the film is good, it's really goddamn good. An extended dialogue between an incognito Cady and Lewis' teenage Danielle provides Cady with a rare level of depth and nuance for a villain in this kind of thriller. We sense that, when he's in control of his mind, when he's not obsessing over revenge or indulging in his perverse, lustful fantasies, he's probably quite an intelligent, charming guy. Likewise, in a seduction scene at a bar where Cady woos Nolte's possible mistress (an alternatingly funny and chilling turn by Ileana Douglas), we realize how he may have pulled off his horrible sex crimes. There are several Max Cady's, and he can sometimes turn off the psycho switch in order to get what he wants. That's a wonderful innovation on the part of De Niro, Scorsese and screenwriter Wesley Strick.

So, you see what I'm getting at. De Niro as Max Cady? Good. Direction by Martin Scorsese? Good. Editing by Thelma Schoonmaker? Good as always. Juliette Lewis? Good. But it's a doughy two hours plus, and I can't help but think that everyone would have benefitted if we'd gotten to Cape Fear about twenty minutes earlier. Scorsese's best pictures have such an immaculate flow to them, they seem to pass by in an instant. Every time I watch Goodfellas, I feel like it's just getting started when the credits start to roll. And when he misses the mark, pace-wise, as he does here, it's instantly noticeable.

I think the biggest problem, as I stated above, is Scorsese's exuberant indulgence of De Niro. Max Cady kidnaps not only Nick Nolte's family, but this entire film, in much the same way people claimed Daniel Day-Lewis walked off with Gangs of New York. The difference is that much of the detail going on around Day-Lewis in Gangs is similarly interesting (such as Brendon Gleeson's Monk character, or Jim Broadbent's Boss Tweed), while the remainder of Cape Fear can't help but seem dull when compared to De Niro's hambone, frothing-at-the-mouth madman.