PRINCE OF THE CITY: Blu-ray (Orion, 1981) Warner Archive
Treat Williams gives a mesmeric performance as Danny
Ciello, a cocky cop on the edge in director, Sidney Lumet’s nearly 3-hour
sustained epic of graft and police corruption in Prince of the City
(1981), based on the scathing tell-all by author, Robert Daley and cowritten
for the screen by Lumet and Jay Presson Allen. Williams explosive and
hot-tempered devolution from hardcore, and ‘slightly’ crooked cop – part of a
much larger and more insidious ring of law enforcement, acting on their own
accord to achieve convictions by whatever method possible – to reluctant
informant, ratting on the system and his pals in tandem, while placing his own
life, and that of his young wife, Carla (Lindsay Crouse) in jeopardy, reveals
the subtler nuances of a man so ingrained in the blue code of silence, that to
step beyond it, even for altruistic reasons, nearly breaks Ciello’s emotional
psyche down to bedrock. Despite a stellar cast of extremely gifted New York
actors to include Jerry Orbach (second billed as Gus Levy – Ciello’s best pal),
Richard Foronjy (Det. Joe Marinaro), Carmine Caridi (Det. Gino Mascone), Tony
Page (Det. Raf Alvarez), Norman Parker (Assistant U.S. Atty. Rick Cappalino), Paul
Roebling (Assistant U.S. Atty. Brooks Paige), Bob Balaban (Santimassino), James
Tolkan (Assistant U.S. Atty. George Polito), Steve Inwood (Assistant U.S. Atty.
Mario Vincente), Matthew Laurance (as Ciello’s brother, Ronnie), Tony Turco (as
Ciello’s father, Socks) Ron Maccone (as Ciello’s ill-fated mafia cousin, Nick
Napoli, and Ron Karabatsos (as corruption connection, Dave DeBennedeto) the weight
of the movie rests squarely on Williams’ shoulders. And it is to his credit
that, in the face of being given some lengthy and filth-loaded diatribes, more
fittingly meant as monologues for the off-Broadway stage (of which both Presson
Allen and Lumet are familiar), Williams manages not only to keep Ciello a
genuine character of flesh and blood, but also to unearth the grand tragedy and
resplendent release of his soul from its self-imposed purgatory, peeling away
one utterly painful layer of redemption at a time.
Prince of the City is actually the
story of NYPD Narcotics Detective, Robert Leuci, who eventually came to the
personal decision the methods by which he had achieved his own notoriety and
success were as distinctly – if not identically – as immoral as the means of
the criminals he was arresting. Leuci’s due diligence, testimony and secret wire-tapping
of ‘privileged conversations’ eventually led to the indictment of 52 members from
the Special Investigation Unit, ultimately convicted on crimes of income tax
evasion. Considered by some as a stoolie, Leuci approached Daley, the former NY
Deputy Police Commissioner for Public Affairs turned respected novelist, to
write his memoir. Daley, at first, was disinterested. But then, he became
fascinated by the stories shared about infested corruption within the legal
system. A deal was struck and the book written and published. A best seller, it
was optioned by Orion Pictures in 1978 for a cool $500,000. Jay Presson Allen was
convinced it would be ideal for her friend, Sidney Lumet. Alas, Orion had
already slated it for director, Brian De Palma and star, Robert DeNiro. Undaunted,
Allen let it be known, if this deal should fall through, she would option Prince
of the City for Lumet. Ironically, the deal did go sour, allowing
Lumet to take the helm. But Allen was reticent about writing the screenplay, put
off by the book's non-linear narrative. Lumet, however, persisted, even
agreeing to write the outline himself. Allen now feared Lumet’s work would be
unusable. But to her great surprise, his constant scribbling on legal pads
provided her with the necessary framework to being the writing process.
Invested in the work, Allen interviewed virtually all the key players involved and
culled her inspiration as much from hours and hours of Leuci’s own confession
tapes. The result: a 365-page draft of the screenplay (eventually paired down
to 265) in just 10 days, virtually unmarketable to a studio until Allen and
Lumet suggested they could make the picture for a paltry $10 million. Lumet was
true to his word – better, in fact, turning in his final cut for just $8.6
million.
Lumet had always regretted the cops in his movie, Serpico
(1973) had been broadly drawn as caricatures and endeavored with Prince
of the City to create more genuine and dimensional representations. Lumet’s
first executive decision on the picture proved to be his best - the casting of
Treat Williams, who highly impressed Lumet with not only his line reading but
his charisma. From here, Lumet turned
his attentions to assembling the remainder of his cast – 50 all told, from the
grittier New York school of acting to achieve the necessary authenticity.
Williams spent a month immersed in the finer nuances of police work at the 23rd
Precinct, going on various drug busts, and moving in with Leuci to absorb the
culture and mannerisms of the man he would be emulating. Williams would later
admit, although he was slightly intimidated at first, he soon became utterly
fascinated with his real-life counterpart, to whom he bore a striking resemblance,
and thereafter, found the necessary exhilaration to walk in Ciello’s shoes –
even, down to adopting Leuci’s gate and strut. Working in his element, Lumet
found the association with Williams and the rest of his cast, eager to show
their stuff, not only fruitful but invigorating. Despite the logistics of
shooting all over New York and New Jersey, production progressed on time, even
gaining momentum to surpass and come in ahead of schedule.
Prince of the City captures a
wrinkle in time when the once triumphant metropolis of New York was in a very
sad and steep state of decline. We are introduced to Det. Danny Ciello, working
narcotics for the Special Investigations Unit. He and his partners are affectionately
known as ‘Princes of the City’ – untouchables who work with minimal supervision
and given the broadest latitude to make their cases against defendants. Early
on, we witness the results in a sting operation. A motley crew of Bogota drug
dealers, indulging in their ill-gotten gains in a seedy hotel suite, are
intercepted by Ciello and Levy. Their drugs and money are confiscated, though
not all of it to reach the property room – as the dealers are sent back to South
America without so much as the due process of a fair trial. Virtually all of
the cops working in this division regard such skimming off the top as a
necessary perk of their profession – none, actually able to recognize that
their world of illegal practices is about to come crashing in on them. Danny’s
father, Socks is bitterly disappointed his son regards his chosen profession as
carte blanche to merely do as he pleases, regardless of the law. Danny also grapples
with his envious sibling, Ronnie, who is a drug addict. Meanwhile, Danny’s
cousin, Nick is involved in organized crime, the six-degrees of this separation
in their family, further constricted after Danny decides to reform his
lifestyle and turn state’s evidence for the Feds.
One of Danny’s informants, Frank Sanchos (Lionel Pina)
is a junkie with a crack-addicted gal/pal (Cynthia Nixon). To feed Sanchos habit
and keep him dependent – if not sober – Danny assaults another junkie, stealing
his stash of heroin. But this ugly incident begins to gnaw at Danny’s
conscience. Enter Assistant U.S. Atty. Rick Cappalino who, recognizing Danny’s
newfound reluctance, begins to ply and pluck his conscience to suit his agenda –
namely to participate in an investigation of police corruption. At first, Danny
skirts the offer, even coyly to suggest he will never rat on his partners.
Danny points out, although he ‘sleeps’ with his wife, he ‘lives’ with his
partners. Indeed, the bond between all of the cops working Special Investigations
is tight-knit. Cappalino now tightens his yoke, promising Danny nearly all of
the division will eventually be dismantled with or without his help. The best Danny
can hope for now is to potentially avoid his own prosecution by entering the
federal protection program as an informant. More for the safety of his wife and
children, Ciello agrees to wear a wire and work undercover. Still, he vows not
to rat on his partners. Cappalino superficially agrees to these terms, but
secretly begins to tighten the screws on Danny’s own spurious past until he has
no choice but to work against the men who, until now, have been like his
extended family.
Eventually, his friends begin to catch on. One, Det. Rocky
Grazzo (Tony Munafo) infers Danny is a dead man, should he persist upon his
present course, while another, Det. Bill Mayo (Don Billett) takes his own life
in front of Levy, unable to live with the guilt and fear of prosecution. While
the bond between Levy and Ciello is seemingly unbreakable, even this friendship
is eventually wrecked by the state’s investigation – leaving Ciello friendless
and considered a pariah in the force. Fearing for Danny’s safety, his cousin,
Nick attempts to forewarn of a Mafia hit on his life. Alas, Nick’s loyalty to
Danny costs him his own; his body discovered in an ash can not long thereafter.
As Danny had previously perjured himself under oath, confessing to only 3
illegal acts in 11 years, he too now faces prosecution for the various illegal
acts committed while an officer of the law. While many on the commission
consider throwing Danny under the same bus, Cappalino and Assistant Atty.
Brooks Paige (Paul Roebling), both involved with Ciello from the very beginning,
each recognizing the sacrifices made by him to secure them their indictments,
fight for Danny’s exoneration from all past bad acts. After much contemplation,
U.S. Attorney Charles Deluth (Peter Michael Goetz) elects not to prosecute
Ciello. Danny is instead given a pass and provided with a new outlook as an
instructor at the police academy. In the final scene, as Danny is about to
address the class, a student comes forth to inquiring if he is ‘that Det.
Ciello’ to which Danny admits as much. “I don’t think there is anything
I can learn from you,” the student replies before exiting the class room.
Owing to its lengthy runtime, Prince of the City
was released by Orion only into select theaters. Although it received promising
reviews, there was little word-of-mouth, further crippled by Orion’s skinflint
advertising – print ads only – all but to ensure the movie’s lack of staying power
at the box office. Regarded by the DEA for its authenticity, the picture was
intermittently criticized for ‘glamorizing Leuci’ while representing the
prosecutors in an unflattering light. Nicholas Scoppetta, on whom the character
of Cappalino is based, and, the Special Prosecutor who convinced the real Leuci
to go undercover against his fellow officers, was unimpressed, suggesting Prince
of the City represented the prosecution as “bad or worse than the
corrupt police.” In reality, only DA Polito (in charge of Brooklyn’s
Federal Organized Crime Strick Force, and, based on Thomas Puccio) was shown to
be niggling and malevolent – a sentiment echoed by author, Robert Daley, who
gave no such consideration to the character in his novel. Meanwhile, film
critics were mixed in their praise, mostly due to the picture’s length, which
some regarded as needlessly excessive. There is some truth to this. Lumet,
clearly in love with the work, occasionally indulges in too much of a good
thing. Certain scenes, like Danny’s interception of a junkie to feed Sanchos’
addiction, are drawn out when a shorter sequence might have just as easily
sufficed. And there is a lot of ‘repeats’ in the hammering home of that message
about an officer being disloyal to his partners. Lumet and his cinematographer,
Andrzej Bartkowiak revel in their rough-hewn depictions of a city consumed by
urban blight, a visual reference for the moral decay afflicting these characters.
The result is a movie of ever-increasing, perverse isolation that, at times, weighs
heavily on one’s patience to see it through. We get it. New York in the late 70’s
was not a very nice place, and law enforcement of its day could hardly claim ‘white
knight’ status among the criminal element. But in the final analysis, Prince
of the City is afflicted by the darkness of Lumet’s visions as a life-long
New Yorker. Clearly, he sees the city as something of a beloved cesspool and is
not afraid to show it, warts and all. Is it effective? Mostly. But this movie
could easily have pruned some 40 minutes from its runtime and still have packed
the same wallop. As an aside: it did not make back its production costs.
Prince of the City arrives on
Blu-ray via the Warner Archive. While much of the image sports a subtly nuanced
and desaturated palette of predictably dated colors, in keeping both with film
stocks and the overall ‘vintage’ look Lumet and Bartkowiak are going
for, scenes shot at night or under limited light conditions sport amplified grain
that seems uncharacteristic of either desired effect. Warner has done a very
nice job remastering this title. But the results remain uneven at best. Contrast
levels are sometimes anemic, with blacks adopting a faded dark grey quality. Fine details are intermittently lost in a strange,
almost gauze-like patina that greatly softens the visuals to the point where
they appear slightly out of focus. Never having seen Prince of the City theatrically,
I cannot comment whether these perceived shortcomings were always intact. Certainly,
nothing about Lumet or Bartkowiak’s approach to this material screams
high-key-lit contrast. They are going for a more truthful reality here and I
cannot fault it. But the visuals seem to lack the necessary refinement we are
used to seeing from hi-def masters. The 2.0 DTS audio is
adequate for this primarily dialogue-driven movie and exhibit a similarly dated
characteristic which is fine and true to its source. Extras include a nearly
half-hour doc on the real story behind the film, sporting vintage interviews
from Lumet, Presson Allen, Treat Williams and the real Det. Leuci, among others,
plus a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Prince of the City is an indulgence
for Lumet and a veritable paradise for lovers of his work. It’s not
as potent or as pure as some of Lumet’s other masterpieces, but deserves
re-consideration just the same. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the
best)
3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
3.5
EXTRAS
2
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