Review © by Jane Freebury
A cast bristling with terrific actors has to be any director's
dream. By all reports, the talent in Hail,
Caesar! were simply happy to work with the Coen brothers, whatever they were
asked to do. So we have cameos to savour like Tilda Swinton's nervy twin sister
journalists each vying for the scoop, and Ralph Fiennes' fastidious director
coaxing a young cowpoke to act on a drawing room set. Performance is the thing,
as it is for everyone. This is show biz.
The narrative tries to coalesce around one Baird Whitlock
(George Clooney), a none-too-sharp star in a biblical epic who is kidnapped by
a shadowy group of conspirators and whisked off to a Malibu beach house. It
turns out they are a Communist cell, more intellectual than the earnest
industry types who become allied with Dalton Trumbo, in the screenwriter's biopic
that is also running in cinemas now and offers another angle on Hollywood in
the 1950s.
Whitlock seems to somehow sleepwalk through it all and remains
in costume throughout. That is, in breastplate and short leather tunic, and
with sword that always gets in the way when he sits down. He engages with his
captors and begins to show signs of Stockholm Syndrome. Very droll.
At another soundstage on the Capitol Studio lot, Burt Gurney
(Channing Tatum) rehearses his song and tap routine with the rest of the crew, grinding
away with a sailor's number. He looks the matinee idol in the making but Gurney
has some seriously subversive plans afoot.
Running parallel with this kidnap 'drama' is the plight of synchronised
swimming star DeeAnn Moran (Scarlett Johansson) who is pregnant but has no
husband. The bump in her mermaid costume will soon show and it spells catastrophe.
In 1950s, Hollywood was nothing like the free-for-all it is today.
Back at the beach house, Whitlock comes to and stumbles woozily
into a meeting of the cell. One of his captors asks if he is 'wondering what's
going on'. You may be too. The device for holding it all together is studio
troubleshooter Eddie Mannix (Josh Brolin) whose job it is to set things right
so that Capitol movies don't get on the wrong side of the Hays code and its requirements
for public morality. Deflecting noisy columnists away from any hint of scandal
is all in a day's work for Mannix.
Hail,Caesar! brings
both the 1930s and the 1950s together in the frame with its Busby Berkeley-style
set pieces and tap dance routines en masse, hinting at its origins. Apparently
the Coens planned to set it in the 1930s when those dance extravaganzas were in
their heyday and it seems they were unwilling to ditch the chance of staging them.
The movie would have been the poorer without them and the energy and zest of
old Hollywood that they convey. If Hail,
Caesar! is a teeny bit anachronistic, who cares when there is spectacle, sharp
writing and the talents of Johansson, Clooney, Tatum, Fiennes and Alden
Ehrenreich on show.
Alden who? He is
Hobie Doyle the cowboy who Fiennes' director can't corral, though judicious
editing seems to make it right in the end. This obliging boy is much more
comfortable riding a horse, in any position, and is a wonder with a lasso. However,
he has enough screen time in his small part to showcase his easy charm and more
unusual skills. A spaghetti lasso, anyone?
Hail, Caesar! doesn't
have the narrative coherence of, say, everyone's favourite Coen comedy The Big Lebowski but it is also funny
and sharp. A total nonsense that is at the same time so clever. Quite an
achievement.
4 Stars
Also published at www.janefreeburywriter.com.au
