Campbell Scott and his "process"! David Mamet always makes me laugh. You've gotta love Mamet. You gotta love that his plot device is given the portentous name "the process". (It would've been only slightly less funny if he had called it "the McGuffin" or perhaps "the plot device".) "The process", by the way, is in Scott's tightly-clutched red leather-bound diary. For all I could tell, it appears to consist of calculus equations -- handwritten! Purportedly, these scrawls will be worth billions to any corporation who possesses them. Total global dominance, or something. Maybe Scott has finally unearthed the secret of alchemy, or maybe his equations provide a precisely-calculated comfort ratio for the number of troops required to illegally occupy an Arabic country measured against shrinking approval-ratings at the Home Front. The movie doesn't say.
Well, it turns out that Scott's math homework is the key to SOME sort of wildly complicated scam involving industrial espionage. The "company" (unnamed, natch) for which Scott works claims proprietary rights to "the process", but Scott, who has invented the precious "process", begs to differ. He wants to be fully compensated. He has not threatened to take "the process" to another unnamed company, but when boss Ben Gazarra sics a pair of corporate lawyers on him, Scott wonders what his legal options truly are. His new acquaintance, the mysterious and obscenely wealthy Steve Martin, offers to help.
And I'm leaving the plot synopsis there, because a detailed recount will ruin *The Spanish Prisoner* for the viewer. For this movie, despite its McGuffins and Joe Normal hero, is fundamentally different from the usual Hitchcock movie, in that we, along with Scott, have absolutely no clue as to what is really going on. Mamet withholds precisely the same information from us as he withholds from his hero. Though, indeed, there are a few indicators that something is amiss early on. For instance, Rebecca Pigeon's secretary is just a little too weird. (Paraphrase that catches the general tone: "Hello! Nobody is what they seem! Want a cookie?" etc.) I suppose that, on a surface level, the plot twists don't bear up under scrutiny: as Mr. Maxwell aptly pointed out in the review below mine, much depends on the con-artists being able to predict exactly how Scott is going to act. How do they KNOW that he'll take the FBI calling-card from Pigeon's scrapbook? I would add to Mr. Maxwell's example a few more (like, how does a man not notice what is written on his boarding pass?), but I'm not going to ruin anyone's fun.
But that's just it, though! -- Mamet, it becomes clear upon reflection, has scammed US as well, leading through his maze of bogus booby-traps. NONE of this nonsense bears up under scrutiny, and weren't we as naive to fall for Mamet's scams as Scott was to fall for Steve Martin & Co.'s scams? But do we care? The PUZZLE is what counts, as well as our own enjoyment at being puzzled. Those who quibble about the "realism" of such-and-such event in *The Spanish Prisoner* are really missing the forest for the trees. And those who gripe about the stylish (i.e., "unrealistic") dialog and performances just aren't my kind of people, I guess. Personally, I find Mamet's total disdain for Method acting (a fancy term for another form of posing) to be a breath of fresh air. Look, it's a MOVIE: why should artificiality somehow be against the law? Call it Mamet's "process", if you must.
7 stars out of 10. By the way, nice score by ace-composer Carter Burwell, who often works with the Coens. Will Burwell ever get the credit he deserves? All of his scores are memorable: from *Rob Roy*, to *Miller's Crossing*, to *Fargo*, to *The Spanish Prisoner*, on and on. He's one of the best in the business.
Well, it turns out that Scott's math homework is the key to SOME sort of wildly complicated scam involving industrial espionage. The "company" (unnamed, natch) for which Scott works claims proprietary rights to "the process", but Scott, who has invented the precious "process", begs to differ. He wants to be fully compensated. He has not threatened to take "the process" to another unnamed company, but when boss Ben Gazarra sics a pair of corporate lawyers on him, Scott wonders what his legal options truly are. His new acquaintance, the mysterious and obscenely wealthy Steve Martin, offers to help.
And I'm leaving the plot synopsis there, because a detailed recount will ruin *The Spanish Prisoner* for the viewer. For this movie, despite its McGuffins and Joe Normal hero, is fundamentally different from the usual Hitchcock movie, in that we, along with Scott, have absolutely no clue as to what is really going on. Mamet withholds precisely the same information from us as he withholds from his hero. Though, indeed, there are a few indicators that something is amiss early on. For instance, Rebecca Pigeon's secretary is just a little too weird. (Paraphrase that catches the general tone: "Hello! Nobody is what they seem! Want a cookie?" etc.) I suppose that, on a surface level, the plot twists don't bear up under scrutiny: as Mr. Maxwell aptly pointed out in the review below mine, much depends on the con-artists being able to predict exactly how Scott is going to act. How do they KNOW that he'll take the FBI calling-card from Pigeon's scrapbook? I would add to Mr. Maxwell's example a few more (like, how does a man not notice what is written on his boarding pass?), but I'm not going to ruin anyone's fun.
But that's just it, though! -- Mamet, it becomes clear upon reflection, has scammed US as well, leading through his maze of bogus booby-traps. NONE of this nonsense bears up under scrutiny, and weren't we as naive to fall for Mamet's scams as Scott was to fall for Steve Martin & Co.'s scams? But do we care? The PUZZLE is what counts, as well as our own enjoyment at being puzzled. Those who quibble about the "realism" of such-and-such event in *The Spanish Prisoner* are really missing the forest for the trees. And those who gripe about the stylish (i.e., "unrealistic") dialog and performances just aren't my kind of people, I guess. Personally, I find Mamet's total disdain for Method acting (a fancy term for another form of posing) to be a breath of fresh air. Look, it's a MOVIE: why should artificiality somehow be against the law? Call it Mamet's "process", if you must.
7 stars out of 10. By the way, nice score by ace-composer Carter Burwell, who often works with the Coens. Will Burwell ever get the credit he deserves? All of his scores are memorable: from *Rob Roy*, to *Miller's Crossing*, to *Fargo*, to *The Spanish Prisoner*, on and on. He's one of the best in the business.