Ronin (1998, Directed by John Frankenheimer)
(I’m also going to start randomly inserting great quotes from the movies. It’ll be cool)
Of course I’m scared, you think I’m reluctant because I’m happy?
I have a clear memory of the first time I heard of “Ronin.” I wasn’t very old, probably in middle school, and I was sitting in a barber shop waiting for a haircut. I was reading People magazine—a mistake I have rarely repeated—and they reviewed it in their “Movies” section. The production photo they chose had Robert De Niro shouldering a massive automatic weapon next to a destroyed BMW, blowing the hell out of a European cafe. Up until that point, my cinematic diet had been largely prepared by Jerry Bruckheimer, and this to me was so…different. I seem to recall that the review boiled down to a simple sentence: “A thinking man’s thriller.”
A thinking man’s thriller.
At that age, I don’t know if the concept had occurred to me. I love my family, but it was not a cinematic household; we all liked movies, we all watched movies, but there was no one amongst us at the time whom I would fairly call a film buff. I was fortunate in that my family were all quite discerning film goers, they had an acute sense of what was good and balked at poor quality, but no one was sitting me down with a copy of “400 Blows” and telling me I had to watch it. So when People magazine came along and told me about a thriller with a brain, I knew that I had to see what such a film would be like. My desire was furthered by a gorgeous cardboard display propped up at my local movie theater, each actor in a large ensemble given their own square cut-out. I remember Jonathan Pryce, his eyes fixed over my head, looking focused and determined; Natascha McElhone, whom my sister referred to as “a prettier Uma Thurman” (I think they’re both pretty), glancing over her shoulder, looking tough and wounded at the same time. And De Niro. Even before watching the films that made him who he was, I understood this man’s power, his gravitas. He was a god, I could sense that the American moviegoer had already enjoyed a long relationship with him before I arrived. I was entranced. I had to see “Ronin.”
Of course, it was rated R, so that did not happen. When it finally arrived on VHS, I managed to make a compelling case to my father that this was a “soft R.” Probably one too many F-bombs, but definitely no sex scenes or gruesome fatalities. After examining the cassette, turning it over in his hand and reading the back (in that way that only fathers can do), he shrugged and relented. I now know that my father’s fondness for old classics like “The French Connection” probably hurried him in this decision, and I’m grateful for that. When I got the movie home and put it in my VCR, I was so excited I could barely sit still. A thinking man’s thriller.
I’m sure it would be a more interesting story to tell you that I was disappointed by what I saw, but instead I was blown away. From the opening line of dialog, I never understood a single thing that transpired on the screen. Sean Bean’s Spencer asks De Niro’s Sam: “You ever kill anybody?” Sam shrugs and replies, “I hurt somebody’s feelings once.” What in the hell did that mean? Jean Reno’s Vincent gives Sam a cigarette. Sam accepts, then asks: “You labor or management?” Vincent chuckles, “If I was management, I wouldn’t have given you a cigarette.” They smirk. Huh? What are these people talking about? And then the worst one was the ambush scene. Oh, how I puzzled over the ambush scene. (It’s the very beginning of the clip below)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDD_C1LTcwI&feature=related
…But…what? What on Earth just happened? Something…bad? I don’t get it (I get it now, no explanations in the comments section please). And yet in a strange way, I liked that fact. I think there were two reasons: firstly, because I was growing up in a house full of older people, and I got quite used to not understanding what was transpiring around me. Second, it didn’t seem random, everything seemed to be communicating information, I just couldn’t put together exactly what that information was. And I found that ambiguity, that sense of a puzzle to be penetrated, utterly fascinating. I’m always intrigued by shorthand, things that can go unsaid between people within certain circles, and perhaps I covet that knowledge above all other types.
Whatever the case, this was certainly something new. The rhythm of the dialog was, shall we say, a little different from “Armageddon.” And then came the action scenes. Holy mercy, the action scenes. I had watched people chase each other in cars before, but I had never noticed that most sequences are cut in such a way as to confuse, mislead, and downplay. Truth be told, the average action movie budget is trying to cut corners wherever possible, so the so-called “chase” you’re being sold on is usually two cars going 30 mph down an open road. I immediately understood that “Ronin” was different. The edit was elegant, there was a breath before each cut, I was meant to really see what the hell was going on. I was genuinely on edge throughout the whole scene, a feeling that was completely new to me.
You’re great in the locker room, pal, and your reflexes might die hard, but you’re weak when you put your spikes on.
“Ronin” also introduced the concept of a MacGuffin to me, by distilling it to its purest form. The plot centers around several groups of armed criminals chasing after a mysterious briefcase (actually it’s a case for ice skates, but that’s neither here nor there) which is so valuable that anyone will do anything to get it. The catch is—and I have to admit I was so absorbed in the story that I didn’t notice this the first time—that we never find out what’s in the case. It’s in moves like this that “Ronin” elevates itself, these little touches of class that are so unheard of in action films. I was beguiled endlessly by this open-ended technique, and quickly realized that by never revealing its contents, the case became more valuable. It became a thing to quest after, an object worth possessing at any cost, a plot device Hitchcock dubbed “the MacGuffin.”
When I watch “Ronin” now, I am still enthralled by its every nuance. I understand the tiny rhythms of the script, and am even more amazed that an action film with such an art house style ever got produced. The car chases are, for my money, still the best ever committed to celluloid, period. I’ve come to learn a great deal about how they were filmed, and director John Frankenheimer’s methods—the emphasis on real speed, refusal to use green screen or camera tricks, the fidelity to authentic engine noise—have remained a benchmark for the discerning enthusiast. I warn you that repeat viewing of the chases in “Ronin” will ruin garbage like “Gone in Sixty Seconds” for you, because your eye will learn what a car going 90 mph actually looks like; how it handles, the way inertia whacks the frame when it takes too hard a turn, and the furious gallop of the tires when the gas is hammered to the floor. If you’re going to do an action scene, you should make something out of it. “Ronin” turns the car chase into an art form.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DlgorBs7Q0w&feature=related (Wait for the chase, it is worth it)
The more films I see, the more I realize how rare “Ronin” is. Hollywood doesn’t believe in movies like this anymore: the MTV generation wants whiz-bang excuses to sell toys that overstuff their brief running times with sex and mindless violence. Some critics derisively call this “video game” style, but I’m insulted by that term, and I suspect the people who use it never played a video game. God knows the folks who made “Bioshock” and “Halo 3″ have a far keener understanding of pacing and development than these crass jerks who pump out stupid action movies ever will. Rather than look down on gamers, Hollywood could stand to learn something from them. But I digress.
What happened to movies like this, Dear Reader? Watching “Ronin” feels like having a sip of fine cognac after being forced to subsist on a diet of fruit roll ups and Tang. What happened to the thinking man’s thriller? I cherish movies with relatively few action scenes, because when the story is paced correctly, those moments end up being more valuable than the garbage that gets thrown at you by hacks who should stick to music videos. When I go to see an action movie, I still want to see a freaking movie. I want to know some characters, and relate to their struggles, and ponder the consequences of their actions. It’s an open secret that this movie was scripted by David Mamet, and his signature touch adds so much weight to the proceedings.
Frankenheimer presents here a slower picture, an old-school thrill ride that builds steadily up to a much smaller number of action scenes, each one carried off with loving precision. The sad irony is, for all the former’s desperation to maintain a constant climax, they end up being far more boring pictures. “Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen” isn’t half as exciting as “Ronin,” even though it cost three times as much to produce. You cannot buy excitement from an audience, you must earn it. It doesn’t matter how many pyramids you blow up, or weapons you unleash, or monuments you destroy; we will always get more excited when story and pacing are implemented. When you have our hearts and our minds, we give endlessly to the picture, volunteering our sincerest hopes and deepest fears. A picture like “Ronin” is about trusting the audience, respecting their intelligence, and offering them a refined, classy experience.
And it’s about driving some hot cars so fast they melt your face off.
You understand that there is something outside yourself that must be served. And when that need is gone, when belief has died, what are you but a man without a master?
PS: If you want to see a real thriller, the way they used to be made, jump to the 5:00 mark on this clip. This scene cost a fraction of what they spent to make “GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra,” and yet I give you my word you will be more nervous, apprehensive, terrified, and then relieved than you would be in twelve of the stupid blockbusters that pass for entertainment these days.
If you dare…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v0XJunOAGgs&feature=related
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