Many people miss the point of Miller’s Crossing; what’s more, they don’t judge it on its own terms. It is widely known that the Coen brothers were inspired to make this movie by the works of Dashiell Hammett. But their inspiration does not matter in the least; it only tells us where they started, not where they ended. Thankfully, they did not end up with some modernized Hammett “tough guy” story, with characters who almost always lack depth and humanity. Miller’s Crossing is certainly not a perfect film, but it is a fine film—far better than almost all the movies that have ever been made.

Miller’s Crossing, like all movies that are more than simple entertainments (such as the much better film Gosford Park), really need to be seen more than once. This film is dense; for example, the subplot involving Mink was not clear to me on the first viewing; nor was the sexual relationship between Mink and the Dane. It all became clear on subsequent viewing.

Even with multiple viewings, Miller’s Crossing has its problems. The homosexual relationship between Mink and the Dane is not very believable. J.E. Freeman is a fine actor, but he is not really cast well in this role. This is not surprising, however, since that part had been written for Peter Stormare—who I’m sure would have portrayed the character as implicitly gay along with the angry sadism that Freeman has in abundance; Freeman’s Dane clearly cares about Mink, but it seems more like Mink is his son or brother—not his lover. We learn that Mink and Dane are lovers almost exclusively from other characters.

This is a fairly minor problem, however—and one that would probably be easily fixed with a single scene including both characters together; the biggest problem in Miller’s Crossing is that the filmmakers maintain rigid first-person POV [caveat] throughout the movie except for one scene in which Leo survives an assassination attempt. It acts as a short film put in the middle of the feature. It is spectacular, but it doesn’t belong. As the saying goes, in editing you usually have to kill your darlings and that was one they should have strangled. (There is one other very short POV problem toward the beginning where a young boy steals the hair piece of a dead Rug Daniels, which should have been cut—other than being a classic Coen Brothers moment, it serves no purpose. On the other hand, the fire-bombing of Leo’s club seems like a POV error, but it is not; Tom witnesses it and even comments on it—albeit from a distance.)

Taking the assassination scene out would have allowed them to spend more time on the Mink-Dane relationship and to have further developed Tom’s attraction (love?) for Verna. As it is, Verna disappears for far too long during the latter half of the second act. This missed opportunity is particularly sad because the love triangle involving Tom, Verna, and Leo is the heart of the story. Without getting too Oedipal about it, the film works as modern tragedy. Tom saves Leo (his father surrogate) resulting in the loss of Verna (his mother surrogate). Given his loss of Verna, the film ends with Leo and Verna about to be married; this causes Tom to lose Leo (again) because he cannot accept being around Leo married to Verna. And it is all Tom’s fault; he controlled all the action in the film.

Consider this: Tom could have asked Verna to leave Leo, and she would have; this would have hurt Leo, but it would not have poisoned his relationship with Tom; Leo would then have given Caspar the okay to kill Bernie; and Tom and Verna could have relocated Bernie somewhere far away before he was killed. But the tragic course Tom followed was dictated by his own ethical sense (ironically, shared with Casper, who he has murdered as part of his plan). Tom’s ethics result in the unhappiness of Verna and himself (and to a smaller degree Leo), and the deaths of many people (most innocent in the universe of the movie).

As has been pointed out ad nauseum, the film is beautifully “shot” and expertly acted. I actually have something to say about this other than the usual comments of the film ombudsmen, so you will forgive me if I add to the nausea. Let me start with the acting.

Acting

Gabriel Byrne does an excellent job in this film, but it is rarely mentioned because this is the kind of role that just seems to be standard and easy. But this film lives and dies on his performance. Without his subtle, emotionally deep performance, the film would have no center. In addition to the serious scenes he shares with Finney and Harden, he also has scenes where his character is playing a role. The contrast is stark and riveting.

Of course, everyone applauds Jon Polito in the role of Johnny Casper—and rightly so; but Polito is pretty much always great in whatever he is doing. Is he really particularly better in this film than he is in other films? Just to mention two (later) Coen brothers films, he was wonderful as the gay dry-cleaner in The Man Who Wasn’t There and comically genius paired with Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski. He is a fine actor who unfortunately gets a lot of the same kinds of roles because of how he looks; but on the good side, he works a lot.

I’m not sure about John Turturro‘s performance; I have a hard time reconciling his pleading in the forest with his sociopathic behavior elsewhere. He does redeem himself during his second pleading scene where his character’s acting job is far less convincing.

Marcia Gay Harden does a fine job, despite having to recite some of the most tired dialog that the Coen’s have ever created. It is sad that her character was probably the least fleshed out. Albert Finney provides a workman-like performance. His character too is not well written. It is hard not to question how such a nice guy could have survived with the likes of Johnny Casper around. Okay: he’s good with a machine gun and he is calm during stressful situations; but he seems more like the city’s most popular tailor than a crime boss. In Finney’s defense, he was last minute casting, after Trey Wilson (originally cast) died right before shotting; so it isn’t like he had a great deal of time to prepare, and considering his body of work (Murder on the Orient Express and The Dresser come to mind), I would never doubt his talent. And let us never forget that casting, editing, and directing are usually just as important to the success or failure of a performance on film as is the acting itself.

The Look

Miller’s Crossing is the Coen Brothers’ third film. Their first film, Blood Simple, had a budget of one and a half million dollars; and it showed, even if the low-budget look of the film worked perfectly. Their second film, the highly over-rated Raising Arizona cost about six million dollars (and I can’t help but compare it to Jon Jost‘s work which is generally made on a shoestring and yet produces remarkable—and arguably greater—results). So it isn’t surprising that Miller’s Crossing, with it’s 14 million dollar budget would look good. Their first two films had good camera work and reasonably good lighting. Barry Sonnenfeld lit those films. I assume Joel Coen shot Blood Simple; no one is credited. David M. Dunlap shot Raising Arizona, along with Stephen St. John doing the steadicam work. Sonnenfeld lit and shot Miller’s Crossing with Larry McConkey on the steadicam. I mention all of these people, because the cinematographer tends to get all the credit, while the camera operator is easily as important—and in the United States, it is rare for someone to do both in a budgeted movie. Before moving on, I should point out that these people are really just department heads; they all have large crews of assistants who are generally very talented. (Consider the lowly camera loader; do you have any idea just how hard and stressful it is to load a camera with film? By feel alone? It is a demanding job, especially when every minute you slow down the production costs about $50—or more—much more.)

Sonnenfeld’s camera work is hardly inspiring. It reminds me a little bit of Jim Jarmusch‘s Stranger Than Paradise which was lit (and most likely shot) by Tom DiCillo. The camera hardly moves: there are no tilts, very minor pans, and a couple of dollies. The shooting for which Sonnenfeld is responsible is similarly motionless; I assume this is what the Coen’s wanted. However, where Jarmusch’s movie frames each shot in interesting ways; the Coen’s movie frames each shot in a classic manner. This is neither good nor bad; it is a decision. But it is not an exciting decision. Helpfully, it does make the viewer focus on two things: the acting and the set design. I’ve already discussed the acting, which deserves the attention the filming provides. This is even more true of the sets.

The production design by Dennis Gassner is great. Ditto for Richard Hornung‘s costume design. Even the short scene outside in the rain taking cover in a doorway looks great and says as much as the filming and the acting. What’s more, the sets and costumes do more than define the environment and mood—they provide insights into the characters. It is a lot more than pretty. Again, as with filming, there are a lot of people who work under these department heads. And in Miller’s Crossing, there was a much bigger Art Department than there was on Raising Arizona (which itself had a much bigger Art Department than Blood Simple).

This is Not Film Criticism

To me, Miller’s Crossing is a love story that just happens to take place in that fictional land of mobsters who are not, in general, homicidal psychopaths. So while the film may look like something Dashiell Hammett wrote, it isn’t at all. It lives in his literary universe, if you will, but it is populated by characters who just don’t exist in the classic genre. This fact confuses a lot of viewers and makes them think that this fine film is bad. Any good work of art needs to be experienced multiple times before it can be fully appreciated. Unfortunately, the newspaper columnists who call themselves “film critics” generally see a film only once before passing judgment on its artistic value. This is fine, because most people who read such “reviews” simply want to know if they will enjoy watching a movie once. So we should call these “film critics” something more appropriate: “film ombudsmen.”

This discussion of Miller’s Crossing is far longer than a typical “review” and yet, it is far too short to begin to seriously criticize the film. But it is long enough to make the argument that the film cannot be dismissed as bad art and that it deserves at least two viewings, whereas The Maltese Falcon is deserving of one reading, at most.

Update (20 April 2011)

I just got the DVD from the library and there is an extended interview with Barry Sonnenfeld where he says much of what I did about his work. I also found out that after he got out of film school, he bought a CP-16—the same camera that I used to own until I loaned it to Marc Burgio who never returned it.

Update (20 November 2011)

For some time now, I have been thinking about the two lover’s triangles in the movie: Vera’s and Mink’s. Off hand, when the film is looked at in this way it isn’t too hard to see it as homophobic. There seem to be two honest brokers in the heterosexual triangle, only one in the homosexual triangle, and he’s a psychopath. But I would have to think a lot more about this before I was willing to stand behind what is now just a thought.

Update (19 May 2013)

There are more POV problems than I indicated. This isn’t just a matter of formalism. The screenplay really needs to be reworked so that it isn’t so exclusively Tom’s story.

This is a continuation of my article about The Rise of the Indian Rope Trick. Check out Part I. This one deals with an actual effect, the Indian Chain Trick.

As promised, I am going to explain the Indian Chain Trick, the magical illusion that is most like the Indian Rope Trick, but which probably had nothing to do with the creation of the myth because John Elbert Wilkie probably knew nothing about it.

The Mogul Emperor Jahangir reported on the Indian Chain Trick some time around 1600. What he wrote was not translated into English until 1829, and what I quote here is Peter Lamont quoting from this English translation in his book, The Rise of the Indian Rope Trick. It seems that the conjurers

This sounds amazing, but actually, Jahangir was not that impressed with this particular effect; the conjurers did much more amazing things like make fruit trees grow and produce ripe mangoes. But let’s forget the mango trick; it is well-know (to those in the know) and it’s secret can be learned from a variety of books. As far as I know, no one has explained the Indian Chain Trick. (And most likely, no one has cared.)

The biggest problem with explaining this trick is the hog. Regardless of how you look at it, hogs can’t climb up chains. The other animals — well, I could imagine they could be trained. But given that hogs can’t climb, I assume that none of the animals actually climbed up the chain. And yet, Jahangir claims they did. Leaving aside the fact that he was almost certainly wasted out of his mind on booze and opium, there are reasons to doubt his description of the effect.

The Problem with Eye-Witnesses

In my experience, when people describe magic tricks they have seen (without the help of booze and opium), they are not very accurate. For example, when someone sees the color changing deck, they will say, “The magician had me select a card from a blue deck of cards; then he fans out the deck and all the cards are red, except for the one I picked that is blue.” I don’t want to go into details here, but the trick started where it ended: with a red deck of cards and two blue cards.

What’s even more important is that magicians are liars. They talk and are generally entertaining and then they start their act. But… They already started it; during all that chitchat, they were doing the “trick”; in fact, in most cases, by the time the audience thinks the effect is starting, it is over from the magician’s standpoint. Ricki Jay’s Four Queen Routine is a good example of this, even though it may not be clear to the uninitiated — which is the whole point, after all. This isn’t always the case, of course; as an example, I would refer you to Daryl’s Rope Routine where he is doing straight sleight-of-hand throughout a six minute effect. But this is the exception, not the rule.

The Method

I can think of a few ways that the Indian Chain Trick could have been done. First the chain: most likely it was simply held up with thread — either from a single strand directly overhead, or two strands running off to each side (the way a tennis net is held up). Obviously, this would likely not even be strong enough to allow a rat to climb up the chain, so we move on to part two: the animal climb.

My guess is that the conjurers had a box that they performed the trick upon. It is from this box that the chain rose. On the top of this box was a trap door that allowed the hog (etc) to disappear into. But how would it do this without being seen? How would Jahangir (other than the drug effects) see the hog climb the chain? The answer is simpler than you would think: he didn’t see the hog climb the chain.

Instead, one of the conjurers would put the hog on top of the box. He would then obscure it from the audience with a screen. At this point, the hog would fall through the trap door, without Jahangir and the rest of the audience noticing — all would assume the hog was still behind the screen.

Now the conjurer would slowly raise this screen up to the top of the chain at the same time he said something along the lines of, “See how the hog climbs the chain!” And then, when at the top of the chain, the magician would pull away the screen and announce, “The hog has vanished!”

The emperor goes wild! No one remembers that they didn’t actually see the hog climb the chain. This is normally how people describe magic tricks they saw: they say they saw things that were only ever implied.

The Indian Chain Trick: Am I Right?

There are other possible methods of doing the Indian Chain Trick, but it was almost certainly something very similar to this. Magicians refer to “heat” in a magic trick. This is when the audience is paying a lot of attention. The point when the screen is removed to show the vanished pig has a lot of heat. But when the screen is first placed in front of the pig doesn’t have much heat because the audience isn’t aware that the trick has started.

Based upon the comment of Kenneth Wade Wilson below, I wonder if this description is unclear. If anyone has any questions, please ask me. It’s really very simple, and the concept is still widely used as in the die box.

Peter Lamont has written a fun little book called The Rise of the Indian Rope Trick. If you know this magic trick, you will get the punning title (if you are like me, you won’t know quite how you feel about that.). If you don’t know the trick, let me explain.

A magician — but one with a turban, not a top hat — takes a length of rope and causes it to (magically) rise into the air. Then, his assistant climbs up the rope and (magically) disappears. The rope falls back to the ground. The crowd goes wild! You can imagine, just look at the photograph on the right.

Now, admittedly, you don’t see the boy disappear in the photo. In fact, he never does disappear (unless you want to imagine it in your mind). This picture is of The Great Karachi doing the Indian Rope Trick. Karachi was one of the great Indian magician — except that he was actually from Plymouth in the Southwest corner of the United Kingdom. And his name was Arthur Derbyh. But he looks pretty Indian, don’t you think?

The problem with the Indian Rope Trick is that it was invented by an American. His name was John Elbert Wilkie. A great magician? No. A so-so journalist? Yes. He just made it up for an article he was writing. I understand this. I’ve been a journalist, and I know that you normally get paid by the article: poorly; the more you pump out, the more money you make. It’s not like anyone’s going to check, unless your name is Jayson Blair, or, as in the case of Mr. Wilkie, you are dead.

What is interesting about all of this is that the article took off. People believed it and the story spread to (God help us all) Victorian England. And in Victorian England, the people knew they were the best; and yet, no one could actually do this trick. Okay, sure: Karachi/Derbyh: Rope rises, kid climbs up, kid climbs down. No big deal. Even Howard Thurston (who was a total hack) could do that. It’s the disappearing that was the key (and outside; don’t forget that — you can do anything in a theater).

Of course, after Wilkie first “reported” on the Indian Rope Trick, it ran wild. Numerous variations appeared. Here’s my favorite: rope up, boy climbs, magician climbs after him with sword, and cuts him up: arms, legs, torso, and head fall to the ground; magician climbs down; he assembles the parts again, and the boy gets up and dances a gig — or the Indian equivalent of it. Gruesome, yes; but surprisingly easy to do; a lot easier than that disappearing thing.

Anyway, we get a lot of Victorians hunting around India looking for the trick (that doesn’t exist because it only ever existed in Wilkie’s mind, and by now, he is with the United State Secret Service — I kid you not). And there is lots of waving of hands and all that, mostly because the British magicians cannot accept that there is anything that Indian conjurers can do that they cannot (and they’re right). There is, as with just about anything having to do with Victorians, much hilarity. Truly, the only thing that isn’t ridiculous about this period is Oscar Wilde — who was also hilarious but for completely different reasons.

It turns out that there was a magic trick that Indian conjurers did that was similar to the Indian Rope Trick. In it, a chain was thrown in the air where it stuck. Then, a pig, and a dog, and other assorted beasts climbed up the chain and disappeared. I’m pretty sure I know how this was done and in part 2 of this article I am going to explain it. (And it is almost certainly not what you are thinking.)

But don’t pass up on Peter Lamont‘s book. It is a lot of fun — excellent summer reading.

Check out Part II of this Article.

15 November 2013: I removed the CCNA Chennai video embed (see comment below) because it has been removed and I can’t locate it now.