Lo spaventapasseri

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

I saw Scarecrow when it originally came out in 1973. Like so many movies of that era (late 60's - early 70's) it didn't have the requisite "happy ending" that Hollywood force feeds us today. Instead, we're presented with the desolate lives of two drifters searching for redemption at their respective destinations of Pittsburgh and Detroit. Hackman and Pacino are at their best here, providing the same type of brilliant acting and on-screen presence that Voight and Hoffman gave us in Midnight Cowboy (1969). In fact I've always thought these two movies would make for a great "compare and contrast" assignment in a Theatre Arts class.

Hackman has been quoted as saying that this was his favorite role. No argument here, it's my favorite too. Thanks Gene. You too Al.

This overlooked film features Gene Hackman's best performance as an introverted ex-con. Al Pacino gives one of his best performances. Director Jerry Schatzberg and cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond capture both the squalor and the grandeur of the American landscape. Garry Michael White's screenplay is filled with richly nuanced characters, religious symbolism and a deep sense of humanity. One of the best of the 70's.

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).

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.