Much sexual water has gone under the bridge since the 1960s, and more than a few installments of "The Playboy Philosophy." So now, at the millennium's turning, a tale in which the prejudices, cynicism and sexual infidelities of a small southern town's dissolute ruling class figure prominently seems dated, even quaint. Yet such is the terrifyingly plausible spiral into anarchy depicted in 1966's The Chase that Arthur Penn's controversial film remains a disturbing piece of cinema. A thinner (but still imposing) Marlon Brando plays Sherrif Calder, a lone, laconic voice of reason in a town rapidly going insane on a hot summer's night. E.G. Marshall is Val Rogers, bank president and town monarch, suitably surrounded by fawning lackeys such as Ed Stewart (Robert Duvall, uncharacteristically loathsome as a milquetoast cuckold aching for revenge). The spark for the climactic firestorm is the return of "Bubba" Reeves, who has escaped from prison after being sent away for joy-riding in a stolen airplane. Everyone assumes he is coming back to avenge himself on Rogers' son, who has been keeping company with Reeves' wife Anna (Jane Fonda). The film's weakest performance is, arguably, turned in by Robert Redford, who is much too pretty and soft-spoken to be convincing as the fugitive hellion, Bubba. Overall, however, The Chase features some memorable performances, including those of Brando, Duvall and Janice Rule as Duvall's slutty wife, Emily. In addition to the fearsome inevitability of its violence, The Chase is notable for the horrific realism of the beating inflicted on the sherrif by a couple of corporate good 'ol boys - almost certainly the most graphic beating Hollywood had ever dared to put on film, and possibly unrivalled to this day for its sheer ferocity. Critics may have made much of the film's flaws, but as a study of a dysfunctional society poised to explode, The Chase still stands up as a sobering and powerful movie experience.
Review of The Chase
