One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (18.)
Directed by Milos Forman. 1975
Starring Jack Nicholson, Louise Fletcher, William Redfield, Will Sampson, Brad Dourif, Christopher Lloyd, Scatman Crothers and Danny De Vito. 131 mins
Is forty years enough to make something a timeless classic? It's a film that was absolutely of it time, yet seems almost untouched by the passing of four decades. (It even still has its 18 certificate after all these years, though it would have been an X when it was relased.) It's the Casablanca of the counter culture generation and Nicholson is its Bogart.
This is his defining role, no question. A whole generation grew up seeing him as the template for movie stardom with integrity, yet few actors have been so thoroughly buried by impersonation and caricature as Nicholson. When it comes to playing crazy most actors try to dial up a Mad Jack when the time comes. Any kind crazed villain or crazy outsider role's have become like a fairground Test Your Strength concession, a chance to see how far up the Nicholson Scale they can hit. Like those other 70s cultural icons, Frank Spencer and Eddie Waring, the impersonation ultimately obscured the original. (His influence became so persuasive, even stifling, that even Nicholson could seem a little trapped by it.)
Nicholson's R.P. McMurphy remains one of the Hollywood's defining screen performances, so charismatic and with a natural unforced flow of emotions. It's a masterclass in how to be big, but within boundaries. He's a bundle of energy, out to steal every scene he's in, but with the restraint to know how far to push it. The whole film is his performance, it's the plot of the movie. He has to be the star, assert that he's leading man on the mental ward, while working to draw performances from the other inmates: he's testing and taunting his understudies to see if any of them are up to taking over the lead role from him.
Nicholson is the film, but the best moment is (it's been 40 years – can I give away the ending?) comes after he has died, and the Chief escapes. The scene is made not by the clumsy symbolism of the water springing up but the reactions of Christopher Lloyd as Taber, his ecstatic joy and then that jolt into defiance. I'm pretty sure that it is the reason why the film has retained its hold over audience and will continue to do so.
Directed by Milos Forman. 1975
Starring Jack Nicholson, Louise Fletcher, William Redfield, Will Sampson, Brad Dourif, Christopher Lloyd, Scatman Crothers and Danny De Vito. 131 mins
Is forty years enough to make something a timeless classic? It's a film that was absolutely of it time, yet seems almost untouched by the passing of four decades. (It even still has its 18 certificate after all these years, though it would have been an X when it was relased.) It's the Casablanca of the counter culture generation and Nicholson is its Bogart.
This is his defining role, no question. A whole generation grew up seeing him as the template for movie stardom with integrity, yet few actors have been so thoroughly buried by impersonation and caricature as Nicholson. When it comes to playing crazy most actors try to dial up a Mad Jack when the time comes. Any kind crazed villain or crazy outsider role's have become like a fairground Test Your Strength concession, a chance to see how far up the Nicholson Scale they can hit. Like those other 70s cultural icons, Frank Spencer and Eddie Waring, the impersonation ultimately obscured the original. (His influence became so persuasive, even stifling, that even Nicholson could seem a little trapped by it.)
Nicholson's R.P. McMurphy remains one of the Hollywood's defining screen performances, so charismatic and with a natural unforced flow of emotions. It's a masterclass in how to be big, but within boundaries. He's a bundle of energy, out to steal every scene he's in, but with the restraint to know how far to push it. The whole film is his performance, it's the plot of the movie. He has to be the star, assert that he's leading man on the mental ward, while working to draw performances from the other inmates: he's testing and taunting his understudies to see if any of them are up to taking over the lead role from him.
Nicholson is the film, but the best moment is (it's been 40 years – can I give away the ending?) comes after he has died, and the Chief escapes. The scene is made not by the clumsy symbolism of the water springing up but the reactions of Christopher Lloyd as Taber, his ecstatic joy and then that jolt into defiance. I'm pretty sure that it is the reason why the film has retained its hold over audience and will continue to do so.
