Dirty Harry
(1971)
(1971)
Right-wing tract or a more ambivalent study of two extreme
characters (as the tagline said, "Dirty Harry and the homicidal maniac.
Harry's the one with the badge")?
There is evidently an element of wish-fulfillment in terms of
identification with the Callahan character; he is pro-active in a world where
bureaucracy and injustice are endemic. As such he is presented, initially at
least, with situations in which it is easy to be u unperturbed by his casual
dispensation of violent justice (recounting how he shot a would-be rapist) or
setting up iconic scenes of coolness (dealing with a bank robbery whilst eating
a hotdog, delivering his “Did I fire… “ speech for the first time).
Pauline Kael disliked the film, and it’s easy to understand her
distaste with its flirtation with fascist or right-wing attitudes. But it would
be inaccurate to ascribe the film with the any kind of polemic intent. Harry’s
attitudes are reactionary, but first and foremost the film is an expertly-made
thriller. That said, there’s definitively more going on her than in your average Charles
Bronson vigilante picture. Particularly in respect of the parallels between the
psychotic antagonist the Scorpio Killer, played by Andy Robinson, and Harry
himself.
It’s a performance which, if you’ve seen the film several times,
easily becomes the most powerful thing in it. Immensely unsettling, contrasting frenzied, maniacal laughter, almost inhuman babbling, with methodical
engineering of his situation (the scenes with the shopkeeper he takes a gun
from, the man he employs to beat him up). Like everything here, the emphasis is
on what will provoke the strongest audience he response. It’s unashamedly
manipulative, but shrewd with it. Harry and Scorpio are broadly drawn,
cartoonish even, when set against the same years The French Connection.
There’s likely a willfulness to make Scorpio such an extreme figure,
such a grotesque, so encouraging the viewpoint that Harry’s behaviour in response is
proportional or necessary. But it doesn’t ultimately make the
scene in the football stadium, as Harry shoots his quarry down then tortures
him while the camera pulls away in an aerial shot, any more palatable. That
feels more like a trap the filmmakers want to pull on the audience; show them the
unconscionable behaviour of the antagonist, such that they will the (anti-)
hero to do anything and everything to stop him. Until he does precisely that
(which is not to dismiss the possibility that an audience high on bloodlust may cheer Harry on as he extracts a confession from his prey). Then introduce the
unlikely scenario of Scorpio walking free and top it off by having him heinously
take hostage a school bus (in a number of nods to the real life Zodiac case) to
enable Harry to have “right on his side” (if not the law) in executing him.
Siegel’s direction elevates the film at every turn, the location
work oozing urban grit yet married to a heightened approach when shooting the
action. And for all the cool of Eastwood’s persona (and hair!) and Lalo
Schifrin’s score Siegel is quick to accentuate the sinister, which comes across
in both music and performance.
Before he exits the picture, Eastwood’s partner (Harry
Guardino) is also used to provide a contrast with the titular character; he is
bookish and has a degree, and is quick to develop respect for street-wise
Callahan. This is a varyingly effective device; he highlights a possibly seedy,
voyeuristic side to Harry (Callahan’s wife is dead, and we see Harry showing
possible peeping tom tendencies on several occasions – Scorpio also engages in voyeurism, to deadly effect). But he’s also
use to emphasise the heroic in Harry, promoting the idea that the detective is
given the jobs no one else wants. There is no real sense that Harry is at the
end of his tether through repeatedly being put in that position, though.
Rather, he gets a buzz from this on the edge lifestyle and rubbing
authority up the wrong way.
The climax strays into overblown territory, making it look like a
progenitor of the modern action movie (Lethal Weapon, please stand up) as Harry
leaps from a handy bridge onto the ransomed school bus, and again it’s clear
that any ideas (of any leaning) are at the mercy of what is most entertaining,
not what is most believable.
Two years later Eastwood undid much of what made his character
so interesting (so unyielding) by pitching him against a gang of motorcycle cops willing to go
further than he does. This was a disappointing fudge, lessening the impact of a
character whose unbending position is what makes him both attractive and
repellant. Reformatting Harry into a more classical hero isn’t the only reason
the sequels are fairly redundant. They’re workmanlike in production terms and
repetitive in retooling set pieces to less and less iconic effect. They may
have enable Eastwood to continue to make less commercial fare but it’s a shame
he didn’t use such an inflammatory character for more interesting purposes. Or
maybe all that could be said with him had been said.
Placed alongside Eastwood’s other collaborations with Siegel in
that decade (The Beguiled and Escape from Alcatraz) provides a clearer
perspective on a working relationship that was first and foremost interested in
exploring strong subject matter and seeing where it would lead, not any political agenda. Dirty Harry is
provocative, and given Eastwood’s recent Republican convention performance you might be
forgiven for thinking their views are allied, but the key to movie's endurance is the filmmaking not its star’s politics. If another director had made
it, with another lead (Irvin Kershner and Frank Sinatra?) it would most likely
have resulted in a pedestrian, and forgettable, work. But I'd find it difficult to mount a solid defence against those who would wish to vilify it for what it may reduce
to in terms of message; I can only attest that as a piece of cinema it remains fresh and vital 40 years on. Perhaps Harry brings out the fascist in one.
*****