Review of Serpico (1973) by Paul Z — 21 Oct 2008

What I find fascinating about Frank Serpico as Sidney Lumet's film sees him is his striking metamorphosis through the story. When Serpico is a rookie, he is almost boyish in his grooming, and as time passes and he grows more seasoned, he grows a beard and dons a decidedly liberal look in order to blend in without the look and feel of a cop, which even law- abiding citizens resents. Pacino expounds the value of form, objectivity, activity, and aggression. Peculiarly, like many American heroes, himself and his fulfillment are the leading underlying principles.

What is so reassuring about him as a real-life character is that he is man in its purest form physically, emotionally and psychologically. He is most self-assured and unapologetic in attitude and behavior, comfortable in his skin and fearless in his ambitions. Beneath his initial clean-cut appearance lies a hormonally raging animal ever ready to take down the rapist that gives chase early in the film. We are stunned at how vigorously and almost supernaturally he runs after this guy. He nonetheless feels obliged to subdue this bestial nature, hoping to achieve a higher connection. It does not take him long to realize that pure intentions and prurient desire need not be mutually exclusive.

The film opens with this dogged philosophical hero flaccid in the backseat of a police car, covered in blood as it races to a hospital with lights and sirens blaring. He has just been shot. The rest of the movie tells the story of Serpico's career up to this moment, starting with him becoming a police officer in 1960. This is not quite necessary, but it is an interesting liberty to take with an oft-overused device to juxtapose the consequences with the origins, because it immediately gives us a feeling of what the film will really be about. He begins his career with very romantic perspective of the line of work he's chosen and believes in non- brutal methods to catch criminals. He also refuses to take part in police corruption, particularly that which involves shaking down and taking payoffs from gambling and drug dealing operations. The fact that he simply cannot be bought gains him the suspicion of his fellow officers all over the majority of the precincts to which he is assigned.

Sidney Lumet is a director who captures something crucial in city based dramas surrounding legal and political affairs; with films like 12 Angry Men, Network, and even Dog Day Afternoon to an extent, he shows an excellent grasp of the power plays in civic politics. Lumet's style is very intimate with the script. Resolute in its interpretation of the first police officer not only in the history of the NYPD, but in the history of any police department in the United States, to step forward to report and then testify candidly about pervasive, organized police corruption, the film describes his classic battle to maintain a grasp on his personal life, over the stage in which he declines to skim off the top and illustrates his unusual political vindication at an official investigation into NYPD corruption.

Sometimes when I see a film that involves timely political wrongdoing or social disorder, I become frustrated because more often than not, those problems are still relevant years after they are made, sometimes half-centuries after they are made. But a story of city corruption is relevant in any era. One merely has to look at great empires, Las Vegas, organized religious establishment, all sorts of turn-of-the-twentieth-century immigrants, and really the history of any one of the most powerful nations on earth to be aware of how much corruption plays a part in the molding of self-styled cultures and societies. What Serpico reveals is that although this sort of corruption is a way of the world and essentially always has been, it is not inevitably an innate feature of humanity.