Review of The Manchurian Candidate (1962) by Jamie T — 16 Jun 2011

John Frankenheimer's monumental thriller has frequently been described as a political satire, but while there is a great deal of sly humor in it, it packs a real emotional punch as well, in addition to being masterfully suspenseful. It's a masterpiece through and through.

The plot, adapted from Richard Condon's novel, involves a Korean War veteran, Maj. Bennett Marco (Frank Sinatra), who is plagued by strange dreams suggesting that Staff Sgt. Raymond Shaw (Laurence Harvey), the decorated hero of their platoon, has in fact been manipulated through brainwashing into killing the two members of the platoon who were believed killed in action. Marco tries to unravel the truth, while Shaw's mother (Angela Lansbury) manipulates her husband, thickheaded Sen. Johnny Iselin (James Gregory) into claiming knowledge of "known Communists" working in the State Department, hoping to get him onto the Presidential ballot. Although not confoundingly complex, accurately summarizing the plot would take nearly as much time as it would to watch the film, densely packed as it is.

George Axelrod's excellent script fits all this and more in without the slightest strain, and the dialogue is rich and involving throughout ("The virus of capitalism is highly infectious"); having not read the novel, I cannot say how well the film adapts it, but Axelrod's script is cunningly RIGHT in every respect. There's one small exception: one scene in a bar requires that the bartender unwittingly drop the control phrase of the brainwashing, and despite Axelrod's valiant attempt, it still feels forced. Otherwise, the script is gold.

Frankenheimer's direction is every bit its equal. Swift and careful, he treats the story with the right balance of seriousness; it is powerful, but never glum or heavy-handed. The dream sequences early on involve both a ladies' garden club in New Jersey (where the brainwashed soldiers thought they were) and a team of Soviet and Chinese scientists and military brass in a Manchurian ampitheater (where they actually were); it's a painstakingly conceived and magnificently executed sequence, a tour de force for both Frankenheimer and Axelrod.

It's hard to pin down exactly what is so good about Sinatra's performance as Marco, but it works perfectly. Marco is enough of an everyman that we can relate to him, as the film is largely seen through his eyes, but smart and dynamic enough that he is a believable hero. Laurence Harvey's Raymond Shaw was almost certainly his best performance, and the careful balance that Frankenheimer and Axelrod brought to the script and direction is also brought by Harvey to this complex role. Shaw is a fairly icy, condescending individual (when acclaimed by a crowd for winning the Congressional Medal of Honor, he says he feels "Like Captain Idiot in Astounding Science comics"), but he has a haunted past, notably a doomed summer romance with Jocie Jordan (Leslie Parrish), whose father, Sen. Thomas Jordan (John McGiver), is a bitter opponent of the Iselins. The monologue in which he describes this is heartbreaking. And he plays the brainwashed Raymond equally well, never allowing the potential absurdity of the situation to leak through.

Angela Lansbury was nominated for an Oscar as Mrs. Iselin, and it was well-deserved; she is as authentically noxious as any bitch goddess ever put on screen, and her big monologue towards the end, culminating in a kiss few who have seen the film could forget, is transfixingly pathetic. James Gregory's Johnny Iselin is more of an overt buffoon, so transparent in his accusations that one wonders how he could be taken seriously; unable to settle on a single number of Communist infiltrators, it is implied he takes the number 57 from a bottle of Heinz ketchup. But Gregory pulls it off well, even suggesting that, were it not for his manipulators, he might be a decent "average Joe" at heart.

Janet Leigh is solid in the surprisingly small (given that she's billed third) but pivotal role of Rosie, who meets Marco on a train and shares a bizarre dialogue with him, which Ebert interpreted as her activating his brainwashing (being his controller), but which leaves the interpretation up to the viewer, who might conclude that the meeting is simply one of massive awkwardness, which manages to lead to love. Khigh Dhiegh is great as Dr. Yen Lo, who has masterminded the brainwashing; Yen Lo is a man of great wit and intelligence, and his banter with the dead-serious Russian agent Zilkov (Albert Paulsen) is truly delightful. Dhiegh appears all too briefly, but is excellently used.

Leslie Parrish is properly sweet and devoted as Jocie, and McGiver suitably affable as her father; Henry Silva, as the mysterious Chunjin, is a bit too much the Oriental stereotype, and he is the closest thing there is in the film to a weak link. Douglas Henderson adds the right touch of by-the-book sensibility to the role of Col. Milt, Marco's superior and confidante; Lloyd Corrigan makes the most of his brief role as Shaw's publisher boss, Holborn Gaines, who has an amusing monologue (which begins with him explaining why he's wearing one of his wife's nightgowns ("for warmth")) which is at odds with the horror about to descend on him, Shaw having been order, under brainwashing, to kill him.

Richard Sylbert's production design is solid, the garden club/ampitheater sequence being an especial tour-de-force for him; Lionel Lindon's stark black-and-white cinematography also makes strong use of grays, suggesting the melancholy tone of much of the film, which is reinforced by David Amram's haunting music. Ferris Webster's punchy editing was also Oscar-nominated, and rightly so, as the film is one of the mostly perfectly put-together I've seen.

THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE combines wit, thrills, and tragedy into one masterful package, a film that compels from start to finish and sticks in the mind, inviting repeat viewings which, owing to the skill shown in every facet of the film, should each be as delightful as the first. Highest recommendation.