Scarecrow

Scarecrow (1973)

A seemingly simple drama about a guy out of prison...but with Gene Hackman as the leading role expect something special. And then Al Pacino plays the sidekick, and an interesting, and little talked about, New Hollywood film is under way. The setting is a kind of revision of the American West, the big dry outdoors no longer the wild West, but still something unique in the visual lexicon.

The director is also little discussed-Jerry Schatzberg-and this might be his best film, aided by the elegant, searing cinematography of Vlimos Zsigmond (famous for "Days of Heaven"). Seeing how the film unfolds you might agree that it's Zsigmond's film, for it carries forward with a brilliant, quiet choreography. Elemental scenes where actors move through space, or through a diner, are made almost gripping by how the camera tracks them.

Of course, we eventually have to admit this is a two-man show. Hackman is his usual comfortable best, filled with loud nuance. I mean, he is a strong character, but his actions are loaded with little, natural details. And Pacino plays an unexpected sweetie with a cute smile. It's a compelling pair.

Things are slow, for sure. It's an easygoing flow with often little really plot. We get into their lives and their heads. This is no "Midnight Cowboy" by any means, but it comes from the same intention, it would seem. Two slightly mismatched outsiders find they need each other, and a bond deeper than mere friendship is formed.

Scarecrow is a low-key film that succeeds on all its ambitions, but not because it tries to aim low. That the tone at times doesn't feel as emotionally incredible or intense as some other films Gene Hackman and Al Pacino got their star-making turns in the 70s (French Connection, Dog Day Afternoon, Serpico) doesn't mean it's unsuccessful either. Jerry Schatzberg and his writer are out to capture a kind of outsider view of men trying to find their places in society, almost like how Michael Cimino would do (to a more genre-oriented extent) with Thunderbolt and Lightfoot. It's not a movie a lot of people would go out of their way to see, even with the star power involved. It's about two guys who've been released from confinement from the world around them, Max from six years in jail (Hackman), Francis from five years out at sea in the Navy (Pacino), and how the two meet up unintentionally while hitchhiking, unlikely pair up, and Hackman gets Pacino to go in with him on opening up a car wash in Pittsburgh.

Why Pittsburgh? Just one of the peculiarities of Max, mayhap? More-so a thing of pride. There's characteristics to Max and Francis that make them compelling for the honesty in what they are: Max is a tough guy, tending to get drunk, get in fights, sex it up with women (who knew Hackman had such, um, animal magnetism), and Francis (also named Lion by Max) is a clown, a little boy who somehow made the mistake of having a kid with a woman before he left the Navy, and has a present ready to give to the kid in Detroit- an androgynous lamp- despite not knowing entirely what to expect. It's an odd couple movie, but also one that has a more affecting view into a world of men on the fringe of society. These guys don't have big plans, and wouldn't want any anyway. It's refreshing to see that, and how it pans into the nature of them and their environment: the small towns, the local dives, the bad drunks, and, when things go bad after a big brawl during a drunken hoopla, the subtle horrors of prison for the both of them. Did I mention train-hopping?

A film like this, despite having on its side gorgeous cinematography by Vilmos Zsigmond (who, along with Badlands and, in its own way Mean Streets, captures a vision of Americana that is pure and unique to its time and place), needs strong acting. Who better than Hackman and Pacino? They're playing big personalities, with Hackman doing great as always in a somewhat typical part of a guy who's aggressive and pig-headed but does have a hear. And Pacino doing a rare comedic turn as he gives some of his funniest (genuine, not unintentional scene-stealing) moments, like his 'diversion' gone wrong in the clothing store, or his classic "teach me how to handle a drunk" bit at the bar. Sometimes its too much, but it leads to a bittersweet side to the story that turns even more bitter by the time Schatzberg reaches the emotional climax in Detroit. What's been alternately crude and crazy, sometimes in ways that remind one a little of Altman, turns towards what is a small but great tragedy for these characters. And doing the script one better, the actors are able to get subtle, crushing, telling moments in scenes that others wouldn't be able to grasp with a ten-foot pole.

It's also a fun movie, with a feel that you could only get in one of the truly great years in all movies (look at the year this came out, and realize how many films of its ilk were released, be they independent-like from Scorsese or Altman or Ashby or even Romero, or even Friedkin's Exorcist). Scarecrow is of its time, but it doesn't mean it can't be greatly liked in the present; it's even a near classic of genre subversion, doing a service to drama and comedy by not paying lip-service to either form, but enriching what comes naturally out of life, which is both sometimes, harrowingly, at once. 9.5/10

This is a forgotten classic from the 1970s and a film which few will find on the list of great films made by Al Pacino and Gene Hackman, although it is close to both actors' best work. As with most road films there is very little plot but what plot there is concerns two drifters (Pacino and Hackman), who meet while trying to hitchhike and, after quickly bonding, decide to become partners in a car wash.

They are both very different characters with Hackman dominating as Max, an irritable tough guy, and Pacino, for once underplaying, in the lesser role of Lionel. Although Hackman can play hard-nut characters in his sleep, the role of Max offers him more range than he often gets. This comes mainly through the quirky aspects of his character, such as his obsession with having to wear several layers of clothing, and also in the more tender and comical scenes.

Despite a running time of nearly two hours the film never drags, unlike many road movies, and this is largely due to the performances, especially that of Hackman. There is also another excellent sinister turn from Richard Lynch, a token 1970s villain, who befriends Lionel (Pacino) after he and Max (Hackman) have been sent to prison.

If there is one aspect which lets the film down it's the ending. "Scarecrow" is one of those films in which very little happens and thus it is tagged with an unnecessarily dramatic ending, which is pure Hollywood schmaltz. It would have benefited far more if the film-makers had simply ended the film where it began, rather than struggling with the choice of an overly happy or sad conclusion (I won't tell you which).

Starring AL PACINO and GENE HACKMAN, these are very different kinds of roles for both of them. I rate these performances as good as any other by either star. Plus they work fantastically well with one another. Why haven't we seen more Hackman/Pacino pairings?

They play down-and-outters, nearly on the level of bums... but they have a goal: To start a business with some money saved up by Hackman's roughneck character. The Ultimate Loner, he only accepts the good-natured Pacino as a partner because... well, you should see it for yourself. I'll just say that they meet on opposite sides of a country road while trying to hitch-hike. The surly Hackman views the flaky Pacino as competition for a ride and silently rejects him. After all his hyper-active attempts at friendliness are rebuffed, Pacino makes one simple gracious gesture that wins over Hackman.

The title has to do with an attitude, an approach towards life. Pacino states that a Scarecrow is successful in its life's mission, not by using fear and intimidation against the crows, but because it is humorous, and the crow's respond graciously for the good laugh by leaving alone his crop of corn.

And our two main characters represent these two opposing approaches to life. It's amazing to see them transform and morph into one another, to adopt the other's philosophy. The pessimist begins to soften up, and the optimist loses his most precious dream. Pacino even LOOKS like a Scarecrow by the last Act of the film.

Pacino's final scene is heart-wrenching. The closing images of Hackman in a bus station are perfect. He has to scrounge up a couple more bucks for a ticket but comes up short. While the impatient teller tries to shuffle him aside to help other people in line, Hackman digs out the last few beans... I won't give away the details, but his victorious expression in the end is priceless.

I think this is one of the most overlooked/under-rated films of the 70's. But I include it as one of my favorite films of the 70's on its own merits (not just to somehow "correct" an oversight of the rest of the fans). It possesses a greater depth of psychology/allegory/symbolism than most people give it credit for. Beware any edited-for-tv version. The language is salty but essential. Also, the wide-screen cinematography by Vilmos Zsigmond (aspect ratio of 2.35 : 1) might suffer in pan-and-scan.

Max and Lionel, two ordinary guys, meet by chance on a lonely country road while hitchhiking and strike up a friendship. Max (Gene Hackman) is a hot-tempered ex-con who dreams of owning his own business, a car wash. Lionel (Al Pacino) is a seaman who abandoned his pregnant girlfriend some years prior but who, despite this character flaw, is so mild-mannered and sweet you really just want to give him a big hug.

Hackman is great as the hard-edged Max, yet despite his gruff exterior you know there is a man of deep feeling and caring underneath. Pacino never fails to disappoint in whatever he does and he doesn't in this tour-de-force performance. Famous for playing loud, larger than life character's with extreme zeal -- Colonel Frank Slade from SCENT OF A WOMAN and Tony Montana from SCARFACE for instance -- here his performance is like a whisper -- quietly calm yet powerfully effective.

A nice surprise in the cast is Richard Lynch (in his screen debut) as Riley, the man who befriends Lionel while he and Max are briefly incarcerated for a bar fight. Lynch is only in the movie for approximately 20 minutes, but what a 20 minutes! His ability to convey the sleazy yet somehow likable Riley let's the audience know that this is a talent to watch for in the coming years. With such great method acting from all three actors, it's no wonder this movie won the prestigious Golden Palm Award at the 1973 Cannes Film Festival!