Spoilers Ahead……….
Legendary film-maker Sergio Leone’s final film “Once upon a Time in America” (1984) is arguably one of the most ambitious works in cinema. Starring
great performers Robert De Niro and James Woods, the movie was drastically cut
for its theatrical release (139 minutes), and a saddened Leone died five years
later without making another movie. A 229 minute version played at Cannes in
1984, but only last year, a digitally restored 251 minute version, dubbed as
‘Extended Director’s Cut’ (supervised by Martin Scorsese’s Film Foundation),
gave the best look yet at this masterpiece. Nevertheless, simply calling it as a
quintessential work of the gangster cinema would be like limiting its
achievements. “Once Upon a Time in America” recalls many of the 1930’s gangster
cinemas, the era when ‘gangsters’ became a staple of American genre
cinema. As Leone himself has stated: “My
movie was to be an homage to the American films I love, and to America itself”.
But, the reason for the film’s unprecedented distinguished status, owes a lot
to Leone’s telling of this epic story, in a manner which surpasses the
limitations of a storyteller.
Narrative-wise, the film is about the rise and fall of two
Jewish, New York gangsters (based on Harry Grey’s novel “The Hoods”) – David
‘Noodles’ Aronson (De Niro) and Maximillian Berkowitz (James Woods). A large
part of the narrative is set in the prohibition era (in the 1930’s), while
there’s also a narrative strand set in the 1960’s, which has the suspense
elements of a thriller genre. The film possesses both a linear narrative
structure as well as confusingly fractured non-linear structure that jump back
and forth in time (especially in the first half-hour or so). One of the most
vital moments in “Once Upon a Time in America” that impressed many movie-lovers
is its audacious opening, disorienting montage sequence that first commences in
an opium den. An opium reverie soothes Noodles (De Niro), but he is soon woken
up by the buzzing in his mind. A newspaper article shows the charred dead
bodies of some gangsters and gradually this buzzing turns into a telephone
ring.
The reason for Noodles’ rendezvous in the opium den is
simple: he has betrayed his lifelong friends by giving some information to
police that have resulted in their gruesome deaths. This telephone rings over a
succession of sequences taking us back in time, although at times we couldn’t
even see a telephone in the frames. Through the loud rings, a montage cuts
through the whiskey ambush, a celebration of the end to prohibition (a
cake-topped coffin is inscribed with the words ‘prohibition’). At one point, a
hand picks up the receiver, but still the phone keeps on ringing in the
background. Eventually, the phone is picked up by a Sergeant named P.Halloran
(after ringing for exactly 24 times).
Leone, in fact shows many other phones in this opening
sequence, but the one that’s ringing couldn’t be easily found because what’s
ringing is Noodles’ guilt of betraying his best friends. Roger Ebert says it
better: “A ceaselessly ringing telephone, ringing forever in the conscience of
a man who called the cops on his friends”. It not only puts the viewer on the
fragmented mind-set of Noodles, but also desperately makes them to search for a
meaning in these images. As the film disentangles all its narrative strands in
the 4-hour running time and ends by focusing on the gleeful face of Noodles, we
can feel that the initial telephone rings were not Leone’s way of stretching
Noodles’ guilt. The whole film is about how certain things (or events) and
people are not like as we perceive them. By displaying the disjointed images
that moves between time and space, in the opening sequence (where even sound
sometimes doesn’t match that of the on-screen visuals), Leone hints at how
Noodles (and ours') gained perceptions are going to be played at throughout the
film’s course.
In the book ‘CrimeWave: Hollywood Crime Cinema’, it is stated that the opening
sequences were Leone’s way of transferring his trademark slow, poetic Western
film beginnings to a more modern ‘gangster era’ setting. This is evident when
Eve enters into her dimmed apartment and finds bullet-holes in the bed, and
then gradually three gun-men become visible. This sequence along with the
phone-ringing setting makes it an equivalent to gunslingers waiting for the
arrival of train or the squeaking of windmills in “Once Upon a Time in the
West” (1968). The resonant backdrop the phone creates in order to display guilt
or disorientation or to imbue a tension on viewers’ mind, is of course,
couldn’t be created in our contemporary era (as ringtones & voice-mails
would only annoy rather than create a brooding sense of dread). “Once Upon a
Time in America” is one of the unique films, where everything from direction to
production design is engaged in perfect, balletic movement. And, that ‘ringing
of phone’ (along with the ‘doped up’ look in the end) is one of the most
equivocal moments in cinematic history.
1 comment:
The whole point of the incredibly irritating telephone ringing on and on and on is a test. If you have the sense to bail at the beginning you’ll be spared the remaining 3.75 hrs dragging by. But if you interpret some ingenious artistic purpose to it and think it just brilliant you’ll imagine the lengthy remainder a joy to watch as well.
Post a Comment