ABSENCE OF MALICE: Blu-ray (Columbia, 1981) Image Entertainment
Director, Sydney
Pollack’s Absence of Malice (1981)
likely contains on the finest scenes ever to address that ‘grey area’ ‘freedom of the
press’ occupies in America, and, the legal haranguing behind its bureaucracy,
magnificently distilled into a riveting moment of exposition, delivered by Wilford
Brimley, whose only ‘experience’ on a movie set prior to this was as an
animal wrangler on Pollack’s Jeremiah
Johnson (1972). Understandably concerned, as such fine talents as Jason
Robards had been up for the part, the picture’s star, Paul Newman quietly informed
his director that if Brimley bumbled this scene, the picture would not have a
leg to stand on. Keeping his apprehensions under wraps thereafter, Newman
approached the first assembled cast reading of Kurt Luedtke’s screenplay with
some trepidation, only to be utterly blown away by Brimley’s run-through, in
which the novice bowled everyone over with the commanding presence usually
ascribed a seasoned pro. In this age of laissez faire reporting, where ‘journalistic
integrity’ has presumably taken the proverbial backseat, of even flown out the
window entirely, the machinations by which over-zealous news hound, Megan
Carter (Sally Field) finds herself embroiled – romantically, and otherwise – in
a defamation of character lawsuit, as well as the political witch hunt against Miami
liquor wholesaler, Michael Gallagher (Newman), seems tame, to downright quaint.
What keeps Absence of Malice from
dating – rather badly – is the understanding that since its time, things have
only become that much worse when covering ‘the
news’ (never to be confused with reporting ‘the truth’). Newman’s Gallagher points this out rather succinctly
to Megan. “You don’t write about the
truth. You write what people say. You eavesdrop.” He might have also added,
‘…and formulate an opinion that hides behind
the 5th amendment to protect – if not dispel - against any such
notions of having come to its conclusion by way of a bias – either politically or
personally motivated.’
The waters are
further muddied as Megan becomes increasingly torn in her allegiances between
Gallagher and the paper, and, the fallout resulting from her probe, to cost at
least one person, Gallagher’s gal pal, Teresa Perrone (Melinda Dillon) - her
life, and another - Gallagher, his livelihood. Writer, Kurt Luedtke knew a
thing or two about news scandals, having begun his career as a reporter, first
in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and then on the Miami Herald. In 1965, Luedtke rose
to prominence as an editor for the Detroit Free Press, giving it all up for Hollywood
and nothing more than a chance to break into the picture biz. Luedtke’s
original intent was to write a book, exposing the seedy underside of the
newspaper business. His first draft screenplay for Absence of Malice was optioned by Orion Pictures for a cool $20,000
with director, George Roy Hill’s name attached to the project. Eventually, Hill
bowed out and Luedtke bought back the rights. The property then came to Sydney
Pollack’s attention, sparking a lucrative 3-picture alliance between writer and
director, of which Absence of Malice
was the first. At its core, Absence of
Malice puts journalistic integrity under a microscope, examining its rather
insidious moral turpitude, merely to cut to the chase and expose a ‘good’ story.
At one point, Meg’s editor, McAdam (Josef Sommer) succinctly explains the conundrum
of professional journalism. He knows how to be a good journalist and how not to
hurt people. Regrettably, he cannot do both at the same time.
Absence of Malice begins with an innocuous query by
Megan Carter, curious as to the State Department’s investigation of one Michael
Gallagher, the son of a deceased crime boss whose extended family, including
his uncle, are still very much mobbed up. The wrinkle: Gallagher is a good egg
and totally legit. He runs a respectable liquor wholesaler’s shipping apparatus
near the docks and does not much appreciate the Feds coming down to poke and
prod his business practices without probable cause or even a warrant to back up
their hunches. Actually, Federal Prosecutor Elliot Rosen (Bob Balaban, at his most
obscenely deceptive) could not give two hoots whether Gallagher is mobbed up or
not. He merely wants to squeeze and pump Gallagher for details on the
disappearance of one Joey Diaz – a longshoremen’s union official, vanished six
months earlier, and since presumed dead. Megan catches the vapors of this story
from Bob Waddell (Barry Primus), Rosen’s right-hand, who also harbors a desire
to land Meg in bed. She placates Waddell’s interests in her, enough to get him
to a bar and cough up a few clues before he realizes she has absolutely zero
interest in taking him up on his offer.
At the State Dept., Rosen is seemingly tight-lipped about what they have
on Gallagher. Rosen dismisses any and all of Meg’s queries. However, off the
record, he encourages her to remain in his office and have a coffee while he
steps out for a moment or two, leaving Gallagher’s file in plain sight on his
desk for her to peruse. This, of course, Meg does and shortly thereafter,
implicates Gallagher in a Federal investigation into Diaz’s ‘murder’.
When Gallagher
sees his name in print, he wastes no time confronting Meg, McAdam and the Miami
Standard’s slippery attorney, Davidek (John Harkins). As none are forthcoming
with any sort of apology for ‘telling the
truth’ – or rather, their version of it, and, are perfectly within their ‘legal’
rights to ruin his credibility in print, Gallagher leaves the Miami Standard in
a huff. Prodded by her nagging conscience, Meg decides to explore the story
further. Meanwhile, District Attorney James K. Quinn (Don Hood) is locked in a battle
to keep Rosen’s investigation in line. Actually, he would rather his offices crack
the case and has no qualms about playing both ends against the middle. Thus,
when Gallagher decides to help in the investigation of Diaz’s disappearance,
his price is high. He wants a complete retraction of the implied suspicions
being lobbed against him. Before this, however, Meg tracks down one Teresa
Perrone, who vouches for Gallagher’s whereabouts on the night Diaz vanished.
Gallagher could not have committed the crime – if, in fact, one has been
committed, as he was with her the whole night, driving her to, and from, an
abortion, and thereafter spending the entire weekend to ensure her recovery went
smoothly. Alas, the abortion has left the already emotionally vulnerable
Perrone with grave reservations. A devout Catholic, Perrone – who has since
moved back home – is horrified her father will find out. And indeed, her worst
fears are confirmed when she opens the morning paper to find Meg’s story on the
front page, detailing the real reason for Gallagher’s innocence.
Unable to cope
with her regrets, Teresa commits suicide with a straight razor – news of her
death reaching Meg at work. Driving out to the docks, Meg finds Gallagher’s shipping
business is a bust. It seems no one wants to buy their liquor from a guy who
may be mobbed up and on his way to the state penitentiary. Worse, news of
Teresa’s death has preceded Meg’s arrival. Now, Gallagher accosts Meg, taking
out his frustrations in a knock-down/drag-out tussle that ends with more than a
hint of a sexual assault. Borrowing a sweater from his office to conceal her torn
blouse, Meg betrays a confidence. She informs Gallagher it was Rosen who leaked
the story to her that began this terrible nightmare. Now, Gallagher hatches a
delicious plan for revenge. Arranging for a clandestine meeting with Quinn,
Gallagher promises to ply his organized-crime contacts for exclusive intel on
Diaz’s murder, but only if Quinn publicly calls off the investigation and
exonerates him of any wrong doing.
Desperate to crack the case ahead of Rosen, Quinn overrides his
authority, holds a press conference, and gets the paper to print a full
retraction of the allegations. In the meantime, Gallagher makes significant
anonymous contributions to one of Quinn's political action committees. He also
begins to see Meg romantically.
Mystified by
Quinn's exoneration of Gallagher, Rosen has Waddell illegally tap Gallagher’s
phones and also keep 24 hr. surveillance of his movements. Knowing his phones
are tapped, Gallagher uses public telephones to call his house, disguising his
voice and pretending to provide further info on Diaz’s murder. Eventually, Waddell and Rosen unearth
Gallagher's donations to Quinn's political committee. Waddell, still very much
in love with Meg, forewarns of their covert investigation which has documented
Gallagher paying her ‘social calls’ at night. Incensed, Meg breaks the story about the Feds
investigating Gallagher on bribery charges. Naturally, this creates quite the
scandal, enough for U.S. Assistant Attorney General, Wells to round up the usual
suspects and carpet haul Quinn, Rosen and Waddell for their bungled
investigatory tactics. Wells promises
that either they will talk to him now, or dance for a grand jury on indictments
already prepared for their immediate arrests until the whole mess can be sorted
out. “Now,
we'll talk all day if you want to,” Wells explains, “But, come sundown, there’s gonna be two things true that ain’t true
now. One, is that the United States Department of Justice is goin' to know what
in the good Christ… is goin' on around here. And the other's I'm gonna have
somebody's ass in my briefcase!”
Under such
stringent guidelines, finally – the truth comes out. Rosen suggests all of the confusion
stemmed from a leak in the office. “You
had a leak?” Wells questions with a distinct not of condescension, “You call what's goin' on around here a
leak? Boy, the last time there was a leak like this, Noah built hisself a boat.”
Now, Quinn and Rosen turn on each other,
causing Wells to suggest both argue like an old married couple. Quinn accuses
Gallagher of a frame-up. And although Wells concurs with this assessment, he
cannot prove it. And Gallagher, poker-faced and uncompromising, is not giving
up any clues that would incriminate him. Wells threatens Meg with jail time.
She reveals Rosen wanted her to read his report so he could begin his public
witch hunt, using the press as a pawn in his scheme. Confronting Waddell for
his illegal wire-tapping, Rosen takes full responsibility, saying Waddell was
acting on his authority to which Wells reminds Rosen that Waddell’s job is to
uphold the law – not follow any ‘damn fool’ suggestion put forth by his boss.
After dismissing Gallagher, Waddell and Meg from the room, Wells ‘suggests’ Quinn
immediately ‘retire’, so as to spare his reputation the embarrassment of
leaving public office in disgrace.
Wells affords
Rosen no such luxury. Informed by Rosen he is not going anywhere, Wells lowers
the boom. As Rosen was one of his appointees, Wells now fires him for
malfeasance. At the Miami Herald, McAdam
assigns Meg’s contemporary, Sarah Wylie (Shelley Spurlock) to write the
concluding chapter on the Gallagher investigation. In the final moments, a
contrite Meg finds Gallagher packing his belongings onto his boat. Having
already liquidated his business and sold his home, Gallagher has decided to set
sail north-east, to stake his claim elsewhere and begin anew. While it is
unclear whether Meg will be fired from the paper for her involvement with
Gallagher, she confides she still believes in journalism as a meaningful
profession – one, she has yet to master, but now, is even more invested to
pursue with a more sobering ambition. Bidding a tender goodbye, Meg watches as
Gallagher’s boat sets sail for the open waters, leaving all this unpleasantness
behind him.
Absence of Malice is a wonderfully subdued drama
with finely crafted performances. Newman and Field are pros of their respective
generations and play the hell out of their scenes together. It is a little
difficult to assess their ‘chemistry.’ The
seduction scene seems to come out of nowhere, played in silhouette, with the
pre-requisite morning after segue, where the usually hard-edged Meg - the bloom
appropriately rubbed off - now gently smiles, informing Gallagher she is ‘available’
to him every day except for Fridays. “What
about Fridays?” he inquires, to which she immediately declares with a grin, “Okay.” Despite Newman’s undeniable
allure as a leading man, and Field’s seemingly effortless capacity to toggle between
go-getting woman of the world, and whimsical ingenue, most of their scenes are
played with a sort of grating antagonism. It is crisp and creates sparks. But it
really does not lend itself to the romantic aspects of our story. In his acting
debut, Wilford Brimley steals the show – his ‘good ole boy’ charm elevating the
movie’s climax to thoroughly satisfying high-stakes drama. He is basically only
in this penultimate scene, but commands every second of it. Wow – what a guy! Owen
Roizman’s cinematography is strictly by the numbers, extolling the tropical
allure of Miami, with Dave Grusin’s underscore, as understated, to compliment
the story. Absence of Malice hails
from an epoch when the axiom ‘less is
more’ reigned supreme in picture-making. Partly due to budgetary
restrictions, Absence of Malice
relies on a good solid script and exceptional acting to carry the load. It
does, and Absence of Malice remains
a truly underrated ‘good show’ worth a second glance on Blu-ray.
Image Entertainment’s
Blu from several years ago still holds up under today’s scrutiny – proof, of Sony’s
commitment to remastering its catalog to the utmost standards that, at the
time, were above and beyond anything being put forth by the other studios (and
rather tragically, still ahead of some of the junk being peddled today but
third-party distributors). Hello! Anyone
at Universal Home Video listening?!? But I digress. Image’s 1080p transfer
is top notch, delivering a bright, perfectly contrasted image with fully
saturated colors, excellent tonality, and, more than a modicum of fine detail.
This release will surely NOT disappoint. The DTS surround is adequate, and
accurately produces the sound field of a vintage early eighties’ movie. We get
several deleted scenes plus a half-hour ‘making of’, with interviews from Luedtke,
Sally Field, Paul Newman and Sydney Pollack. Bottom line: a solidly-crafted ‘little’
gem worthy of your time and coin.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
2.5
Comments