Miller’s Crossing
Originally Written: June 2002
There’s a damn good reason composer Carter Burwell will never win an Oscar for Best Original Score, let alone be nominated for one. It’s simple- he’s too original. Seriously. He’s too audacious as an artist for the conservative Academy, who’ll pick the sweeping orchestra- brilliantly mounted or not- over more daring instrumentation- brilliantly mounted or not- any time. Like Hans Zimmer, his personal stamp is all over each score. Be it the jazzy romanticism of “Conspiracy Theory,” the out-there twists of “Being John
Malkovich,” the haunting lyricism of romantic yearning in “Gods and Monsters,” or the wintry macabre atmosphere of “Fargo,” Burwell never fails to surprise or pull you into the emotional heart of the film. Sure, like any film composer, you’ll recognize specific sounds or passages from other films (though some composers are better at it than others), even in their best work, but when they’re especially inspired by the material, or the filmmaker they’re working with, wonderful things can happen.
In his score for 1990’s “Miller’s Crossing”- his third collaboration with brothers Joel and Ethan Coen- Burwell’s feeling particularly inspired. “Miller’s Crossing” is a gangster film that harks back to the ’30s about rival mob bosses during Prohibition in an unnamed metropolis (for some reason, the city that comes to mind whenever I watch the film is Chicago). It pays homage to the musical scores for gangster movies from that time period while creating a fresh, original score that can stand with the best of the genre. This in due in large part to Burwell’s use of a solo oboe- performing a main theme inspired by one of the songs used in the film, “Danny Boy”- to ground the emotions the characters don’t mention. While I haven’t seen Burwell’s first two collaborations with the Coens’- “Blood Simple” and “Raising Arizona”- in a while, this score provides the groundwork for the composer’s evocative moods and motivic cliches to come in later scores like “Conspiracy Theory,” “Gods and Monsters,” and “The Man Who Wasn’t There.” And the use of that solo oboe to carry the theme is a forebear to the poignant solo violin that is so prominent in “Fargo.” And I haven’t even mentioned the brilliant way Burwell’s score flows and interlaces with the songs of the time- like “Running Wild” and “Goodnight Sweetheart”- the Coens’ use in the film. It’s a point the excellent Varese Sarabande soundtrack album makes with effortless ease. The score sits #2 in the Burwell filmmography for me (behind “Conspiracy Theory”), but it’s the best and most memorable score of any Coen brother movie (yes, including “O Brother, Where Art Thou?”).
And Burwell’s score is just one of the delicious pleasures of “Miller’s Crossing,” produced by Ethan Coen, directed by Joel Coen, and co-written by the two in one of their finest efforts. Start with the wickedly effective opening scene. It not only sets up the visual and verbal style of the movie, but most of the plot threads to be explored over the next 115 minutes. It all starts with the room, art decorated to the hilt, lit and shot with mood to spare- by cinematographer-turned director Barry Sonnenfeld (“Get Shorty,”
“Men in Black”)- and an obvious homage to the study in “The Godfather.” Next you have the personalities: the smooth, cards-close-to-the-vest calm of Irish mob boss Leo (the excellent Albert Finney); the overzealous, ambitious tenacity of Italian rival boss Johnny Casper (Coen regular Jon Polito in a brilliantly original homage to Brando’s Don Corleone); the silent watchfulness of Leo’s right hand man Tom Regan (“The Usual Suspects'” Gabriel Byrne; any “Godfather” fan’s recognize the name of Robert Duvall’s character, minus the R?); and finally, the wry, brut intimidation of Casper’s right hand, Eddie Dane, known as “The Dane” (J.E. Freeman, powerfully effective). Finally, there’s the Coen’s stylish dialogue. Mostly, it’s all about setting up the story- the escalating mob war between Leo and Casper after Leo refuses- to Tom’s objections- Casper’s request to bump off bookie Bernie Bernbaum (the superb John Turturro), who’s been selling out Casper’s fixed fights to others- but other times, it’s about establishing a rhythm and dark humor attitude for the film that carries it through to the end. Again, it’s pure “Godfather” homage (to the opening scene of Copolla’s masterwork), only now the influence is twisted to make it resemble the Coen’s own work, like their 1984 noir debut “Blood Simple” or their next feature, “Barton Fink.” It’s the dialogue and back-and-forth that makes this film work so beautifully, and no better is that implied than here.
For instance, check out Leo’s dead-pan reaction to Casper’s long-winded request, and the Dane’s response:
Leo: “So you wanna kill him?”
Dane: “For starters…”
Leo’s uninvite of Casper, which makes him none too happy:
Leo: “So take you flunky and dangle.”
Finally, there’s the exchange between Leo and Tom just before the credits roll:
Tom: “Think about what protecting Bernie gets us. Think about what offending
Casper loses us.”
Leo: “Oh come on Tommy, you know I don’t like to think.”
Tom: “Yeah, well think about whether you should start.”
All these work much better coming from the characters mouth’s of course, but I think you get the idea. It’s not their most humane script ever (look at “Fargo” and “O Brother Where Art Thou?” in you’re looking for humanity). It’s dialogue that’s expository, fun to listen to, and helps define character, sometimes all at the same time. You get greetings like “What’s the rumpus?” and “I was in the neighborhood feeling a little daffy” from Tom and Leo; dead-pan one liners like “Drop dead” and “You’re a son of a bitch, Tom” when Bernie’s sister- and Leo and Tom’s “twist” (woman)- Verna (Oscar-winner Marcia Gay Harden, playing this moll to the hilt, and playing her great) is thrown into the mix; dry comebacks for annoying questions when Tom’s luck at betting on the ponies hits a low (“The shoot your horse”; “If there’s any justice”); and then wicked dark comedy when the war between Leo and Casper escalates (when Rug- one of Leo’s main men- is found dead, Leo exclaims, “They took his hair Tommy. Jesus that’s strange.”). There’s no real point going over the story. First of all, who wants it ruined? Second of all, it’s too damn fun to watch unfold. The story follows Tom as he tries to control each situation and predicament he’s in: the affair with Verna; the war between Leo and Casper; the suspicion of the Dane; his dicey “friendship” with Bernie, and his scheming pal Mink (the great Steve Buscemi in a nervous, jitteringly great cameo for the brothers Coen); and his gambling debt, which leads as a bit of point of reference for the trajectory of the story. The worse things get for Tom and his horse troubles, the worse they get in everything else.
All this plays like gangbusters, whether as “Godfather” homage, throwback to the Golden Era of the gangster film, or as simply a Coen Brothers masterpiece (it stands proudly #2- after 1996’s brilliant “Fargo”- in the Coen canon). The characters are acted with gusto all around (no individuals standout; the group effort- as typical for a Coen film- is stellar); the direction by Joel is crisp and flows smoothly; the writing by Joel and Ethan- which appreciates the great dialogue of crime flicks long past, be it “The Godfather” or “The Big Sleep”- is a model for modern-day hacks who know nothing of the pleasures of dialogue liberated from the need to provide plot points we can plainly watch onscreen (only Quentin Tarantino, Kevin Smith, Wes Anderson and Owen Wilson, and Joss Whedon come close to the Coens’ verbal genius); the Carter Burwell score- already given lip service at the outset- grounds the film emotionally with impending dread and beguiling heart; and the Barry Sonnenfeld cinematography- which points to the visual inventiveness of the “Addams Family” and “Men in Black” films- lends the mood-drenched sets and brazenly tongue-in-cheek story outrageousness with wild moves and angles. Plus, you get Joel’s wife- and “Fargo” Oscar winner- Frances McDormond in a welcome cameo as a secretary. What more could you ask of a Coen Brothers film?
How about an action sequence? Well, the Coens’ deliver a doozy that I’ve come to know recently as the “Danny Boy” massacre. At a pivotal point in the story, Casper orders a hit on Leo, who’s relaxing at home listening to “Danny Boy” on the phonograph. But Casper’s men get more than they bargained for when Leo turns the tables with the help of his intelligence and a Tommy Gun that never seems to run out of bullets. Admittedly, the sequence has little on the classic baptism massacre in “The Godfather” (there’s that name again), but it’s the scoring to “Danny Boy” that makes it a memorable, masterful Coen tour de force. It’s kinetic and exciting like the best action, and offbeat and wickedly clever like the best Coens. It’s one of the rare times the two styles of filmmaking- each of which bring their own brand of entertainment and pleasure- have collided, let alone so well. If only it could happen more often…
