David O'ConnellThe Silent Partner
January 11th 2010 02:57
There’s nothing tastier than a psychological cat-and-mouse game between a protagonist and a demented villain. Hollywood films often adhere to a strict template however, making for vicarious but predictable thrills. Thankfully, Daryl Duke’s classy 1978 Canadian production, The Silent Partner, avoids the usual pitfalls and winds up being a riveting suspense drama despite its relatively unknown status.
When mild-mannered Toronto bank teller Miles Cullen (Elliott Gould) gets wind of a potential robbery by a suspicious man, Harry Reikle (Christopher Plummer) - disguised as a bell-ringing Santa Claus in their crowded mall - he does some clever pre-planning. Taking advantage of the good old days and a glaring lack of cameras to monitor every movement, Cullen begins splitting the days takings between his till and a box secreted under the counter. After the robbery eventuates, Cullen helps the bank calculate the damage, though naturally the amount credited to thief Reikle is only a proportion of the total amount with the devious and unsuspected teller getting away with the remainder.
So begins the tense psychological sparring sessions as Reikle realises he’s been swindled by a man he dubs his "silent partner", but whose craftiness he begrudgingly acknowledges. Both attempt to stay ahead of the game they've created through their crimes, with Cullen's deception meaning he’s ventured as far beyond the point of no return as Reikle. Entanglements with co-worker, Julie (Susannah York), and Reikle’s girlfriend Elaine (Celine Lomez) who goes undercover to win Cullen’s heart and vital information to where he’s stashed his windfall, create further unnecessary complications but elevate the risk quotient.
The Silent Partner is a superb crime drama with a tightness that sustains its dramatic momentum all the way to the finish line. There are a couple of half-unexpected twists - those defiant genre staples - but the short, sharp bursts of violence are exceptionally well executed. It doesn’t hurt that Oscar Peterson’s muscular orchestral score, with its smattering of dark atonality, throbs with real menace to heighten the ‘big’ moments. Peterson was a Canadian jazz artist who only ever contributed to one other film, but here his work is reminiscent of the era’s best suspense scoring, especially that of Jerry Goldsmith who owned the decade.
Gould is struck from the same mould as so many drab protagonists whose simple lives get turned around by fate and circumstance. Cullen’s anonymity is established early on through his luckless run with the opposite sex and love of exotic fish, his one true passion. But a couple of unsubtle observations from acquaintances surmising he’s of a type usually underestimated by people signpost his transformation into a man suddenly surviving on guile and desperation to escape his life even it means exploiting illegal avenues to do so.
Limiting Reikle’s on-screen time to a minimum in the first half of the film was certainly a canny move; his few scenes, which involve violence or intimidation of women, firmly establish his psychotic, predatory nature without it turning into overkill. Thus we’re more easily convinced of his dangerous potential to sting Miles where it hurts as the stakes are rapidly raised. Plummer’s performance is masterful and fun to watch in a half-troubling way too. He never wavers in intensity, always with a mad glint in his eye and displaying some strange and disturbingly effeminate stylings.
The women are certainly weaker by comparison. York seems miscast and unconvincing, and Lomez slightly out of her depth, though neither detract from the overall impact too much. Ultimately this is a showdown between the boys, and Duke’s straight-forward but slick direction engineers a clever series of turns that converge in a much-anticipated resolution as the battle of wits becomes a game of life or death. A memorably gory fate lies in wait for one person, and it's giving nothing away to say: fish are involved!
The film is also notable for the origins of its intelligent screenplay; it's an adaptation of Anders Bodelson’s novel 'Think of a Number' by a young Curtis Hanson who would later evolve into a quality director in his own right, responsible most notably for L.A Confidential (1997), Wonder Boys (2000) and the underrated Hitchcockian thriller The Bedroom Window (1987). You'll also be treated to the sight of a young John Candy as another of Cullen's co-workers, an amiable slacker who dates and then marries a gorgeous dumb blonde in the time it takes to finish a power-nap.
The Silent Partner has been released on DVD by Madman.
When mild-mannered Toronto bank teller Miles Cullen (Elliott Gould) gets wind of a potential robbery by a suspicious man, Harry Reikle (Christopher Plummer) - disguised as a bell-ringing Santa Claus in their crowded mall - he does some clever pre-planning. Taking advantage of the good old days and a glaring lack of cameras to monitor every movement, Cullen begins splitting the days takings between his till and a box secreted under the counter. After the robbery eventuates, Cullen helps the bank calculate the damage, though naturally the amount credited to thief Reikle is only a proportion of the total amount with the devious and unsuspected teller getting away with the remainder.
So begins the tense psychological sparring sessions as Reikle realises he’s been swindled by a man he dubs his "silent partner", but whose craftiness he begrudgingly acknowledges. Both attempt to stay ahead of the game they've created through their crimes, with Cullen's deception meaning he’s ventured as far beyond the point of no return as Reikle. Entanglements with co-worker, Julie (Susannah York), and Reikle’s girlfriend Elaine (Celine Lomez) who goes undercover to win Cullen’s heart and vital information to where he’s stashed his windfall, create further unnecessary complications but elevate the risk quotient.
The Silent Partner is a superb crime drama with a tightness that sustains its dramatic momentum all the way to the finish line. There are a couple of half-unexpected twists - those defiant genre staples - but the short, sharp bursts of violence are exceptionally well executed. It doesn’t hurt that Oscar Peterson’s muscular orchestral score, with its smattering of dark atonality, throbs with real menace to heighten the ‘big’ moments. Peterson was a Canadian jazz artist who only ever contributed to one other film, but here his work is reminiscent of the era’s best suspense scoring, especially that of Jerry Goldsmith who owned the decade.
Elliott Gould as Miles Cullen
Gould is struck from the same mould as so many drab protagonists whose simple lives get turned around by fate and circumstance. Cullen’s anonymity is established early on through his luckless run with the opposite sex and love of exotic fish, his one true passion. But a couple of unsubtle observations from acquaintances surmising he’s of a type usually underestimated by people signpost his transformation into a man suddenly surviving on guile and desperation to escape his life even it means exploiting illegal avenues to do so.
Limiting Reikle’s on-screen time to a minimum in the first half of the film was certainly a canny move; his few scenes, which involve violence or intimidation of women, firmly establish his psychotic, predatory nature without it turning into overkill. Thus we’re more easily convinced of his dangerous potential to sting Miles where it hurts as the stakes are rapidly raised. Plummer’s performance is masterful and fun to watch in a half-troubling way too. He never wavers in intensity, always with a mad glint in his eye and displaying some strange and disturbingly effeminate stylings.
Christopher Plummer as Reikle
The women are certainly weaker by comparison. York seems miscast and unconvincing, and Lomez slightly out of her depth, though neither detract from the overall impact too much. Ultimately this is a showdown between the boys, and Duke’s straight-forward but slick direction engineers a clever series of turns that converge in a much-anticipated resolution as the battle of wits becomes a game of life or death. A memorably gory fate lies in wait for one person, and it's giving nothing away to say: fish are involved!
The film is also notable for the origins of its intelligent screenplay; it's an adaptation of Anders Bodelson’s novel 'Think of a Number' by a young Curtis Hanson who would later evolve into a quality director in his own right, responsible most notably for L.A Confidential (1997), Wonder Boys (2000) and the underrated Hitchcockian thriller The Bedroom Window (1987). You'll also be treated to the sight of a young John Candy as another of Cullen's co-workers, an amiable slacker who dates and then marries a gorgeous dumb blonde in the time it takes to finish a power-nap.
The Silent Partner has been released on DVD by Madman.
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Comment by Matt Shea
20/20 Filmsight
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
I've never seen this darker side of Plummer - you have to take a look at him in this! He's genuinely creepy in a few scenes. A real eye-opener!
Comment by Anonymous
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
Comment by JohnDoe
Film & TV on DVD
It' funny you reviewed this one because I just recently discovered it myself and included it on my netflix list.
It will be arriving next week so I look forward to chatting about it then. Elliot Gould is reason alone for my selection and now with your review I am even more excited.
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic