The Big Clock/No Way Out: The Art of a Remake.

Remakes as a form of storytelling that has never in my short time on this earth seemed to be held in high regard. Depending on the story, talent involved, and treatment - anticipation levels will vary, but by and large the remake as a form of storytelling is generally met with mournful cynicism. In the current era it comes from the exhaustion with intellectual properties which means more, more, and more remakes, reboots, and a tangible lack of original properties. Withstanding this current zeitgeist though, I have always felt in movie going public, (especially the cinephile) a perceptible, and somewhat unfair disdain for the practice, most especially when the film is remake of something we love. Personally I think the remake is an important facet in the process and discipline of filmmaking and storytelling. With every ability to be as inventive (or at least nearly as) as originals. Most stories are incarnations of another story, and the remake has several important reasons to exist. There is the need to introduce a new audience to an important or great story, by now forgotten. The need to reassess an important or great story for its important qualities, or for its failings, or even the need to allow new artist to express their own identity through their personal relationship with a film, finding something new for a film to say through the lens of that relationship. I have no clue of what the rate of success vs failure with remakes is, especially if you account for subjectivity, but I do feel strongly as with anything else it’s good practice to when trying to ascertain quality, study what works. One of my favorite combinations of original and remake ever is 1948's “The Big Clock” and 1987's “No Way Out”. Neither of these are the splashiest of choices, but they really are in my opinion quite possibly the best combination based on quality. In order to elucidate what might play a role into making a great remake, I'll explore what makes each of these films work in their own right, which hopefully brings some perspective on what qualities should be considered when putting together a remake.

The Set Up

In ‘The Big Clock”, Ray Miland's George Stroud is an honest newsman who grows tired of his abusive boss's antics . Charles Laughton's “Earl Janoth”s obtrusive philosophy regarding time, ( and how much of it any worker should spend at work ) disregards Stroud's wife and family, and he quits. Janoth has a mistress, Pauline York (Rita Johnson ) to whom he tries to exert the same kind of control as he thinks he has over time and realistically seems to have over most of his employees. In a jealous and insecure rage (after being belittled by his mistress) Janoth murders her just after observing Stroud leave her apartment (unaware its Stroud). He goes about unwittingly setting up Stroud to find this literal straw man who left the apartment as the fall guy, and so begins the clock for Stroud. In the 1987 remake “No Way Out” Lt. Commander Tom Farrell (Kevin Costner ) is in an illicit affair with Sean Young's Susan Atwell who is an controlling and abusive relationship with Gene Hackman's Secretary of defense David Brice, who similar to Janoth kills her in a jealous rage. To cover his misdeed he sets up a manhunt to find a "Mole" as a cover story. He fingers the illusive “Yuri” for the murder he committed, making Farrell the point man for the job. The similarities are obvious, but there are also many differences and detours, while the ultimate premise remains in tact. The Big Clock keeps its focus much more narrow, and the themes at play belong much less to the explicitly political world. It makes it tighter, leaner than No Way Out. Ultimately The Big Clock is about values, and to some extent it’s a moral play about making time for the important things in life. No Way Out broadens it's themes, and subsequently it's genre, which makes it a bit messier, while simultaneously dialing up the intrigue, and anxiety to a degree that I think makes it much more fun movie to watch, by contradicting and playing with some of the original dynamics. The Big Clock features some fantastic melodrama, and appeals to our sensationalized sense of integrity, keeping it's normals simple, but the rips they occupy as grey as the television set it occupies in a viewing. No Way Out is much more concerned with power, and ultimately acts as a referendum on cold war politics and the men behind them, making it a far crueler film, the famed twist is the cherry on top.

Themes

In The Big Clock, the major theme is time. As a construct, as a prison, as an overseer. Stroud wants to make better use of it, Janoth thinks it's one of his employees. Even though the movie may not qualify as a ticking-clock film in the strictest sense, you nonetheless feel the constraints of time in a similar fashion. Whether it's Stroud not having enough time with his family, Janoth enough to think, or even Pauline York enough time to hatch her escape, or in the bigger, grander scale of things, enough time on this earth. Time quite literally consumes the characters. Time makes them frantic, eccentric, impulsive, angry ,and desperate. This goes especially for Janoth whom time chews on extensively before swallowing in an elevator shaft. No Way Out is also about time. You of course feel it to some extent, but it is also a lot about space. Whereas in the Big Clock a lot of the rooms, hallways, and workspaces feel large enough to hide in and hide away from, there always seems to be much less space, and more obstacles in No Way Out. The offices are cramped and cluttered with people and equipment. There’s cramped places like the boat, or the gatherings where people are packed in like sardines like the charity event where Costner's Farrell first encounters Sean Young's Susan Atwell. Sean Young's apartment is chic, but also feels cramped, the hallway that leads to the stairs where Hackman enters feels as if you have to negotiate one in order to avoid the other. The second story of the apartment is just far enough to make a fall dangerous, but not at all towering. You know the minute she begins to run from Hackman she's not going much of anywhere in that space. The hallways in the Pentagon are tight, and believably require maneuvering. When the extremely well choreographed foot chase near the end of the film takes place, you believe the mechanics of it, right down to the logistics of how people, fall, slip, get left behind, or slam into doors. As the camera catches Costner racing towards us, it seems as if the walls are literally closing in. Both make wonderful use of their themes and then contort and manipulate them so as to maximize the viewing experience for optimum suspense and shock, which maintains the heartbeat of what each film wants to do. It keeps them connected, but separate enough to count as entirely different beings.

The Death Scene

In each of these films the death of a woman sets the plot into motion. In a vague sense this is a source code of both film’s conscious objections to the worlds and people that occupy them. In another sense intentionally or not it speaks to those worlds (and thusly our world's) objections to the independence and agency of women. In both films we witness these women push back against the idea of being someone's possession, against their lack of choice, and agency, but interestingly enough time and progress in the women's movement did nothing to improve upon the characterization of the mistresses in Atwell and York. In fact it’s "The Big Clock"'s Pauline York that has far more agency and depth. In No Way Out, Sean Young's Susan Atwell is a trophy both within the film and from without. Her wants and desires beyond wanting Costner's Farrell, and wanting out of her controlling relationship with Hackman are unexplored. Young provides some context as to her strength, and agency through her own trademark scrappiness, but on the page she's the object of desire in the midst of a tug of war between two men. The introduction of the love triangle, (which does not exist in The Big Clock) is part and parcel to her limitation. This is in stark contrast to Rita Johnson's Pauline York, who is interested in Milland's Stroud only so far as he can aid and abet her getaway. She comes onto him initially sure, and you can stretch the milk of the subtext and possibly suggest it is inferred that there was some extramarital affair the one night - but even then, it is clear they're not in a relationship. That a relationship with Stroud is not York's goal, but freedom out from under the manipulative thumb of Janoth is. York wants to sing, and she wants to blackmail Janoth to gain the financial freedom to pursue her ambition unencumbered by Janoth's lecherous, and bile producing wills and interventions. She would have too, if not for the near omnipotence of Janoth in part created through religious like fealty to him by the men who work for him. The death scenes, and most importantly what lead up to them in each film are indicative of the gaps in agency given and depth of focus. Young's death is blocked so as to exist much more in the realm of an accident as a result of violence, rather than repeated violence that resulted in an accident. Hackman slaps her and her momentum carries her over the bannister to her death, even as he tries to grab her back in slow motion. It plays as the tragic result of an impulsive jealous rage, wherein the focal point of said rage was as much Costner as it was her, if not more. It encourages even if in a small dose some modicum of sympathy towards Hackman as he didn't mean for this to happen, despite the fact that the violence is directly the cause. It almost completely dissolves any of Young's power as an actress, by robbing her of opportunities to create a broader scope of who and what EXACTLY this woman wanted in life, and subsequently how that affects who she wanted.

No Way Out movie clips: http://j.mp/13Ya3DO BUY THE MOVIE: http://j.mp/112GpAL Don't miss the HOTTEST NEW TRAILERS: http://bit.ly/1u2y6pr CLIP DESCRIPTION: Brice (Gene Hackman) shows up at Susan's (Sean Young) house and interrogates her about her traveling companion. FILM DESCRIPTION: No Way Out is told in flashback as Naval officer Tom Farrell (Kevin Costner) is grilled by his superiors regarding a recent "unpleasantness."

Rita Johnson's Pauline is quite the opposite. She's forceful, and sure from the jump. She knows what she wants and who she wants, (To sing, and nobody). Though she tries to play her role in Janoth's ego driven theatrical play at first, she quickly dispenses with the game the moment Laughton's smarmy hypocrisy starts to wear on her nerves. From there Rita the actor and Pauline the character become a medieval flail. Quick witted, direct, and furious, Johnson imbues York's final words with such gravitas, such size, and capability that as she rises, it inevitably shrinks Janoth down to size. Allowing the audience to see clearly and early in the film Earl Janoth as the frail mouse casting a lions shadow that he is. Janoth's reaction is an act of cowardice. As pathetic as Pauline had previously announced, and it becomes a difficult task indeed to procure much sympathy for his character in light of what the audience sees. It's an actor's showcase for all involved, but especially Johnson who sets the scene ablaze in a going out that feels akin to Melanie Laurent laughing on screen at Nazis as the entire theater burns down in Quentin Tarantino's “Inglorious Basterds". Unlike Sean Young's death scene which is shot with a stylized precision that makes it both attractive and unseemly, Rita Johnson's is extremely violent even without showing the act, and it feels inescapably abhorrent. In as much as one can be powered in death, it lends power to York, casting her shadow over the rest of the film. Making her character unforgettable, and more then merely a plot device. Which is a decent segue into...

The Performances

It's fun , and invigorating to discuss the performances in these two films largely because they are so well casted, and because of how the differences in setup, tone, and characterization effect the outcome. The stars Milland and Costner play different men with different motivations. Milland has more room to play with his comedic side as well as his special brand of charm in a role as the patsy. The town it takes place in, and direction the movie takes calls for much more outward, and overt expression. The Big Clock is meant to be much more acutely aware of its audience, so that the actors perform outward towards us. When Milland first receives the call from Janoth revealing he is to head up a journalistic investigation to find himself, his reaction is big and obvious to anyone. Especially to his wife whom is able to deduce something is wrong. It is all but aimed at the audience, stopping just short of breaking the fourth wall in a moment of mutual tension that reads as "duh duh duuuh", but not condescendingly, rather as an invitation to join. The same scene is much different in No Way Out. In physical setup, tone, and expression the scene reads inwards as case study of what panic and grief might look like pinned down in the trenches of deception. Costner's Commander Farrell finds out he is to head a government investigation of himself directly in front of the party responsible. More importantly he finds out in the same moment it's the woman he has fallen for. This is a train wreck of anxiety and grief and it calls for more subtle ( Subtle is not a stand in for better ) reaction than in The Big Clock with Ray Milland, and Costner's depiction is beat perfect.

No Way Out movie clips: http://j.mp/13Ya3DO BUY THE MOVIE: http://j.mp/112GpAL Don't miss the HOTTEST NEW TRAILERS: http://bit.ly/1u2y6pr CLIP DESCRIPTION: Brice (Gene Hackman) and Pritchard (Will Patton) give Farrell (Kevin Costner) a difficult assignment. FILM DESCRIPTION: No Way Out is told in flashback as Naval officer Tom Farrell (Kevin Costner) is grilled by his superiors regarding a recent "unpleasantness."

The moment from Costner informally perusing the paperwork to find out about this case to the realization that it is her, is neither completely sublte , nor completely overt, it's simply frighteningly authentic. The unconscious reaction that would allow him to be discovered if the party in the room, (Hackman's Brice and his loyal lieutenant Scott Pritchard ) were at all aware of, or even suspicious of the possibility it might be Farrell is the obstacle here. The then conscious action to try and be covert, to repress even for a moment the well of feelings that would crest at the top of ones throat like a tidal wave if one were to make such a grsily discovery of a loved one - is frankly a masterclass in acting. Costner imagines it and he goes for it, and what he delivers feels real. The averted eyes darting back and forth as he tussles back and forth between emotions is an incarnation of the dueling emotions present when Brad Pitt yells out “No!” in the finale of “Seven”. You can hear Costner' s eyes in conversation with his conscious. Some version of " No it can't be...I can't.. not here...Wait I can't...how.??...I'm going to be sick". The subsequent bathroom scene is like slow leaking the air pressure out of a tire, or a shaken bottle of soda, at any moment he could explode and the contents would then be everywhere and for everyone to see. No moment, from his realization, to his visit to the bathroom for some release - is made for the audience to join. We can identify with either of these men, Ray Miland's George Stroud, or Kevin Costner's Commander Farrell in scene, but the constitution, construction and purpose of one ( The Big Clock ) is specifically tailored to ask us to join in and say “What should he do?”. The other (No Way Out) simply asks what could you even do? Costner gives us a version, and again space plays a role. After finding out he has nowhere to go, he’s looking for some space some place away where he can let out what has to be let out. Reading Costner's expression its as if he feels he's already starting to seep emotion. He excuses himself to a bathroom and finding not enough space for his emotions there, curls himself into a ball. Making himself smaller and smaller he begins looking into walls, on floors, for anywhere to scream into, desperate to just let go. It's brilliant acting. Intuitive, less about the explicit than the implicit, and more about what's going on inside than the external factors that inform Millands eqaully unpredictable, but more calculated reaction. Beyond the protagonist, and still integral to the plot there are the performances and characters of Charles Laughton and Gene Hackman as the "Framers" Janoth and Brice. Janoth is the head of a news magazine behemoth, powerful , influential, and drunk with both. Brice is Defense secretary, he is powerful, ( though maybe not as powerful, or influential as Janoth) and he is also much more visibly insecure. His right hand man Scott Pritchard (Will Patton) is less the straight man “cleaner” that George Macready's Steve Hagen is , and more an obsessive caretaker. Brice's (Hackman) power resides mostly in the building he works in, Janoth's extends quite a bit further. Charles Laughton like most of his counterparts in the film is bigger, wider, he takes up more of the screen acting wise - literally, and figuratively. Hackman reduces himself. This is not Popeye Doyle, or Captain Frank Ramsey in Crimson Tide. Brice doesn't want to be seen until he wants to be seen. He prefers to run his game from behind the scenes. Laughton's Janoth wants to be out front and on the front page. He is the face of his empire , and Laughton's performance is exactly that - out front and in your face. Laughton portrays Janoth as a man confident he's the biggest man in the room until almost the very end. It permeates everything he does from his chosen cadence and syntax, to his cigars, suits, and expressions. Meanwhile Hackman reminds me of those blankets used to hide the mess created by Vincent Vega after he shot Phil LaMarr in the head, it lasts as a subterfuge only so long as the conditions are favorable. His confidence goes in and out like a bad performance of a foreign accent. In the front he is smart, cock sure, dismissive even, but behind closed doors he shrinks , cowers, questions himself, its maybe the largest difference between any two characters in either of the films. The scenes that show them post murder and identified as the murderers make readily clear their differences. Laughton is distressed, but not necessarily distraught, for all intensive purposes he is still rather composed, and in control. Control or the appearance of control is found in stillness. Laughton moves very little in the scene where he confesses his crime, Hackman is a wreck, he is completely distraught, and broken. He's all over the room, his body is up and down. He's crying, trying to regain composure, and then crying again.

No Way Out movie clips: http://j.mp/13Ya3DO BUY THE MOVIE: http://j.mp/112GpAL Don't miss the HOTTEST NEW TRAILERS: http://bit.ly/1u2y6pr CLIP DESCRIPTION: Brice (Gene Hackman) and Pritchard (Will Patton) discuss how to avoid indictment for Susan's death. FILM DESCRIPTION: No Way Out is told in flashback as Naval officer Tom Farrell (Kevin Costner) is grilled by his superiors regarding a recent "unpleasantness."

These are in fact the same men, their differences lie in how aware they are of their true self. Finally there is Hagen (George Macready ) and Pritchard, (Will Patton) the dastardly and morally bankrupt men behind the dastardly and morally bankrupt men that get paid more than they do . Hagen is not paid much attention in The Big Clock. Macready is interesting, but the role itself is merely serviceable, but Pritchard…Pritchard is Shakespearian, Machiavellian even. An obsessive compulsive sociopathic Igor and Iago. A prettier Peter Lorre with the loyalty rating of a golden retriever. Patton plays hims with a sort of repulsive self deprecation that reminds me of Bill Paxton yelling out “I’m nothing, I’m navel lint!” in James Cameron's “True Lies”. Pritchard is committed to Hackman, and Will Patton is as committed to Pritchard. ..

Patton's every movement is a thorough commitment to the objective of his character and scene. It’s never out of sorts with the motivation driving Pritchard's choices. Even the more outlandish bits, like rubbing his head as if he’s trying to clear corrupted data from his hard drive is not over acting, but synchrocity with exactly what is in Pritchard’s programming . I used technical jargon because it feels like a very technical performance of a very technical person. Whatever way Patton found in, the outcome for me is that Patton designs Pritchard as an android. A service android to be exact. He spends most of the film with a clear objective; provide and protect David Brice. He delivers perfectly coiffed lines, with perfectly coiffed hair until Brice turns on him, which causes him to question his objective, and subsequently his existence. Patton's acting choices resembles that of Ian Holms wonderful performance as “Ash" in “Alien”. Patton is a highlight of the movie, which is in stark contrast to George Macready who is not in the Big Clock, nearly enough. Its important to note though that Macready's performance does hint at similar characteristics such as being extremely put together, and amoral. There is a rigid cynicism to the movement posture, and ultimately the portrayal of Steve Hagen that implies he serves not so much Hagen as he does the institution. Macready shows an adept understanding of what it is the film needs from him, and provides with the kind of surgical efficiency his character provides to Janoth.

What I meant to accomplish by stating all of this, was to gather together all the minor and major similarities, major differences in objectives, and approach, to show how difficult it is to make a remake.. more to the point a successful one. These films are so near each other and yet they couldn’t be farther apart in that same space - which I think is one of many vital elements to crafting a good remake. At the same time, it cauterizes in my mind how difficult that must be, especially if the original is a well beloved classic. That portion informs my own personal theory that though the temptation is great, you should try and avoid remaking films that have too large a following, or too large an imprint on culture. For example, Ghostbusters is far too difficult an act to follow, Suspiria on the other hand. Ideally you want a property that is well regarded by those who have seen it, but obscure enough that no one can claim it as their own. Such was the case with these two films. I also think its important to find an approach a way in that maintains the spiritual essence, or soul while challenging or changing the physical continuity. One of my problems with the Star Trek reboots is that they lost the essence of Star Trek and it’s roots in pure science fiction. Namely the way the genre uses a unique blend of science and fiction in universes far far away, it right here at home to relay back to us our own follies, foibles, and strengths. Director J.J. Abrams reboot had a lot more Robert Louis Stevenson, and Jules Verne in it than it did Philip K. Dick, or Ray Bradbury. This is not wrong in and of itself, and Abrams films were in fact fun. They brought new energy to the series, and they challenged the continuity, and consistency of certain characterizations, which still at the very least gave viewers something new and interesting to engage with. Thing is, the best remakes, reboots, or reimaginings do both. No Way Out is still the soul of The Big Clock in a new body. Its refreshing, and different, and a member of it own era, but it still maintains that sense of panic, dread, and the complexity of human hubris that made the original a great film. Neither film enjoyed a large following or incredible box office, but they are both well regarded amongst those who have seen them. Box office outcome is known to change, The Thing from Another World was a box office hit, John Carpenter's remake didn't find its following until later. The original Oceans Eleven was neither a box office nor critical hit, but its remake was. I still believe the logic is sound. Ultimately a great remake is a phenomenon, and one of the most difficult feats in cinema, but also maybe one of the most rewarding to both audiences and creators. It’s like holding a seance for older audiences, and building a bridge to newer ones. There’s poetry in that, love in that, and there is a sense of connection, something often forgotten in the sometimes poisonous sentiment and sentimentality directed towards and at the remake. Remaking something when there is purpose, and heart, and motivations that come from places purer than profit is not the same as merely copying. It is no different than directing a Shakespeare play. It takes drive, ambition, heart, ingenuity, and it can most certainly be an art , you just have to see it as such to even try.