Saturday, January 15, 2011

'Missing' Is Memorable



As a TV viewer, today is a really tough day for me.

On the one hand, two of the best NFL playoff games that I think we are likely to see this season will be played today — the Pittsburgh Steelers vs. the Baltimore Ravens and the Green Bay Packers vs. the Atlanta Falcons.

But on the other hand, Turner Classic Movies is going to be showing a couple of my favorite movies.

Thus, I am torn.

I'm not really sure if TCM has a particular theme for its broadcast schedule today. If it does, I suspect it may be something like "crime and punishment."

At 5 p.m. (Central), TCM will be showing "12 Angry Men," a courtroom drama in which all of the action takes place in the jury room — which isn't surprising since the film was based on a successful play.

Just to be clear, I'm talking about the original film from 1957 — the one with Henry Fonda and Lee J. Cobb — not the 1997 remake with George C. Scott and Jack Lemmon — which was pretty good and is worth seeing, although I never thought it equaled the original.

I have some flexibility with that movie. I have a recording of it. If the Steelers–Ravens game is close, I don't have to see the movie. But I seldom get to see "Missing," and I'd really like to see it. The Packers and Falcons should be at their intermission when the movie begins, and if one of the teams has a huge lead, that will make my choice much easier.

Lemmon can't be found in the version of "12 Angry Men" that is being shown on TCM today, but he can be seen — and fairly extensively a few hours later — at 9 p.m. (Central) in "Missing."

And like many of his performances in the last two decades of his life, Lemmon delivers a memorable performance. If you've never seen it, you won't want to miss this rare opportunity.

If you've never seen "Missing," I don't want to spoil it for you so I'll just touch on a few high points.

It's the true story of an American journalist named Charles Horman who disappeared during the Chilean coup that ousted President Salvador Allende in September 1973. It was later determined that Horman, who had been working as a freelance writer, had been murdered shortly after his abduction.

During that coup, Allende reportedly committed suicide, but the actual circumstances of his death have been vigorously debated for more than 35 years.

There were many mysterious deaths in those days. Most of the people who died were South Americans, I suppose, and, in that place and at that time, their disappearances could be swept under the rug by the local authorities, but Horman (played by John Shea in the movie) was an American so his disappearance attracted a certain amount of attention that was not so easily dismissed.

His father, played by Lemmon in the movie, came to Chile to look for him, aided by his daughter–in–law, Beth, played by Sissy Spacek.

I've never read the book upon which the movie is based ("The Execution of Charles Horman" by Thomas Hauser), but, from what I have read, the film is accurate in its depictions of Horman's wife and father.

Lemmon had a long and distinguished career as an actor. He worked with many of the great actors and directors of his day. He was nominated for — and occasionally won — Oscars for his performances in many of the finest films made in his lifetime.

I always felt that Lemmon had two phases in his acting career. The first half of his career was largely dominated by comedic roles. There were occasional indications of his flair for drama (i.e., "Days of Wine and Roses"), but his reputation was made in comedies like "Mister Roberts," "Some Like It Hot," "The Apartment," "The Fortune Cookie" and "The Odd Couple."

Then Lemmon won his only Oscar for a dramatic performance (1973's "Save the Tiger"), and, in the second half of his career (from the late 1970s until his death in 2001), his most memorable roles came in dramas — "The China Syndrome," "JFK," "Short Cuts," TV remakes of "12 Angry Men" and "Inherit the Wind" and a TV movie based on the notorious Mary Phagan murder case of the early 20th century.

And, of course, "Missing."

"Missing" was the last of Lemmon's Oscar–nominated performances. He didn't win, but I would rank it among his best.

Spacek, too, was nominated for an Oscar for her performance as Beth.

Ed Horman came to Chile conditioned to believe and support authority — and he was skeptical of the conspiracy theories he heard from his daughter–in–law.

But he learned he wasn't in America anymore, and he gradually realized that his own government wasn't telling him the truth about what had happened so far from his home.

I don't know if the lines in the movie are actually the lines that the real Ed and Beth spoke during that time or if they were speculative, the kind of thing the characters might have said under the circumstances — kind of like the dialogue on board the ill–fated Andrea Gail in "The Perfect Storm." No one who was on board that ship is alive to tell what really happened.

(Perhaps Horman's father and wife contributed to Hauser's book. If so, those lines may well have been verifiably attributable to them.)

But I've always liked the dialogue in "Missing." Maybe it was manufactured, but it seemed honest to me.

Like a conversation Beth and Ed have about Charles after his disappearance.

"He seems so innocent," Ed says. "Almost deliberately naive."

"Is that so bad?" asks Beth.

"Is that so good?" Ed replies.

"You raised him," Beth says.

If that was made up, it was simply good, honest writing — delivered by two of Hollywood's best.

Later, the Lemmon character, after a crash course in how things were done in Chile at that time, tells Beth admiringly, "You're the most courageous person I've ever known."

That line may not seem like much when viewed in the relatively antiseptic atmosphere of a video screen, but, in the context of the film, it amounts to an incredible admission by Beth's father–in–law.

Up to that point, he had seemed to be defending the authorities, taking their side over his son's, but his remark to Beth indicated that he understood, finally, what they had been up against in Chile.

It was Ed's recognition that they — and, then, she — had been dealing with unimaginable adversity alone, that he had misjudged them and, from that moment on, as I recall, he was a lot more supportive of his son and his daughter–in–law — and much less tolerant of those with whom he had been allied at first.

That's quite a price to pay for belatedly discovering that blood really is thicker than water.

Another line from the film has always stayed with me. It was powerful, mostly in what it did not say.

I forget the name of the character or what role he played in the story. It seems to me that he was a native of Chile and understood its culture better than the Americans.

"You Americans," he says, "you always assume you must do something before you can be arrested."