Film Noir's Shades of Gray
Celluloid hoods show us the way we
live
Shots in the Mirror: Crime Films and Society
by Nicole Rafter (Oxford University Press; New York; 2000; 224 pages; $14.95)
By Emily Fox Kales
Nicole Rafter's Shots in the Mirror, a sociocultural
study of the crime-film genre, arrives at a particularly timely moment.
Not since White Heat (1949) showcased James Cagney's memorable performance
as a demonic mob boss still powerfully attached to his mother has the popular
media been so fascinated by the gangster's psyche.
Contemporary movies such as Analyze
This (1999) and the extraordinarily popular HBO series The Sopranos literally
put the mobster "on the couch," seeking psychotherapy for panic
attacks, revealing traumatic memories of a father's violent death, or struggling
with family pressures from a demanding, controlling mother and challenging
adolescent children.
Underneath the brutal, cold-blooded, and antisocial
killer, we are told, lies a frightened man in the midst of a midlife crisis
involving his confidence, perhaps even his conscience.
The humanizing of the invulnerable gangster-a
stock character in American movies-may best be interpreted as a reflection
of a contemporary male conflict: between aggression and the drive for professional
success on the one hand, and the need for relationship and intimacy on
the other.
Clearly, the study of film allows us an engaging
look into a mirror of psychosocial, historical, and economic realities-both
of the times in which a movie was made and of the times in which we live
today.
Shots in the Mirror succeeds in applying precisely
this approach, moving skillfully among discussions of the historical context
in which crime films appear, the theories of criminology they reflect,
and their cinematic contributions to the spectrum of popular American film.
A professor in the Law, Policy, and Society program,
Rafter originally conceived of the book as a way of enhancing her students'
understanding of criminology. (In my own cinema and psychology courses,
I have also found films to be a dynamic learning and discussion tool-one
that inevitably enlivens a classroom.)
The book provides a detailed history of the development
of the crime-film genre, including the films of the silent era, the classic
gangster films of the 1930s, and film noir of the 1940s and 1950s. It then
investigates three subgenres: the cop movie, the courtroom drama, and the
prison/execution film. Rafter devotes a chapter to each category, delineating
its standard themes, character types, and plot structures, and analyzing
its larger sociocultural implications and messages about the nature of
crime.
For example, in her discussion of cop movies Rafter
traces the evolution of the "law-and-order enforcer" character
from "boring good guy" (a descendant of the western's stoic sheriff)
to the tough, laconic urban police hero, embodied by Clint Eastwood in
Dirty Harry (1972). Recent variations on this stereotype have included
the rogue cop, the corrupt police officer, and the heroes of the popular
"buddy" cop movies, which are often comedic in tone.
Beyond tracing structural developments, Rafter
examines the statements that cop movies make about traditional notions
of masculinity and gender identity. She charts a movement in recent years
from the typical constellation of male-hero characteristics-fearlessness,
non-emotionality, and an often superhuman strength-to more complex and
nuanced characterizations, such as those found in Serpico (1973) or Bad
Lieutenant (1992).
She also calls the reader's attention to the racial
and gender diversity of today's cop protagonists-including the African-American
Easy Rawlins in Devil in a Blue Dress (1995) and Clarice Starling, the
young female FBI agent in Silence of the Lambs (1991).
In addition to uncovering the social subtexts
embedded in the cop-movie genre, Rafter also notes how these films address
the role of law enforcement in society and what questions they raise about
the nature of power and the possibility of justice.
The book reserves its most trenchant analysis
for the chapter on the nature of the crime-film hero. The genre's lasting
popularity has derived in part from its stylized treatment of the hero,
who moves through a moral landscape appealing in its simplicity. "Both
good guys and bad guys operate on the basis of austere, unambiguous moral
codes that are as bracing as they are simplistic and brutal," writes
Rafter.
She surmises that the attraction of the gangster
outlaw or the criminal mastermind resides in his courage to violate the
constraints of the law and social boundaries, to rebel and defy authority,
and to acquire power and luxury along the way.
Thus, the moviegoer vicariously experiences the
freedom of daring to live outside the law, but any moral conflict this
might elicit is resolved at the film's end, when the criminal-hero is captured,
and punished or destroyed. Interestingly, Rafter notes that recent "alternative-tradition"
crime films, in failing to impose this reassuring restoration of the moral
order, have a more disturbing impact on their audiences than do movies
that follow a traditional dramatic arc.
Unfortunately, however, the book's emphasis on
classifying and subcategorizing each type of hero, plot, and setting, as
well as its comprehensiveness, leaves too little space for this kind of
in-depth and thoughtful analysis.
At times, the book seems to get bogged down in
hairsplitting taxonomies. The chapter "Why They Went Bad," for
example, provides so many subcategories of the etiology for criminal behavior
(the environmental, the biological, and the aspiration/ambition explanations)
that readers may find it difficult to focus on the far more interesting
discussion that follows, on how these explanations reflect social theories
of crime and human nature.
It seems that in the interest of detailed classifications,
Rafter misses the opportunity to investigate more deeply what she calls
the "ideology" of crime-that is, our beliefs about justice, right
versus wrong, punishment and the legal system-and the important question
of whether crime films contribute to violence and criminal behavior in
society.
Nonetheless, Shots in the Mirror remains a valuable
and eminently readable look at an important part of our popular culture
and mythology, enlivened by its author's genuine affection and appreciation
for an enduring genre of American film culture.
Emily Fox Kales is an adjunct clinical assistant
professor in the psychology department, where she teaches courses in psychology
and film. Last year, she appeared in the A&E documentary Love and the
Mob.
The Hoop and the Tree
By Chris Hoffman
Council Oak Books, 2000
The subtitle of this self-help
volume is "A compass for finding a deeper relationship with all life."
Hoffman, MEd'74, draws on world mythology and sacred traditions including
Native American teachings, Taoism, Kabbalism, Sufism, Druidism, Buddhism,
and contemporary psychology to guide readers in bringing their lives into
balance.
Hoffman says that whoever we are-isolated techies
or frantic urbanites-we carry within us a primordial blueprint for wholeness
and connection. Using two powerful symbols drawn from world traditions
and psychological models-the Tree, representing individuality, and the
Hoop, the circular representation of our relationship with other people
and with the natural world-Hoffman outlines how our lives can tilt out
of balance.
Those who focus primarily on the "Tree"
of personal development may neglect their relationships with family, friends,
and the earth. Those who concentrate on the "Hoop" of caring
and relationships may overlook their own personal and professional development.
But if the Hoop and the Tree receive equal weight, lives can become more
content and complete, according to Hoffman.
A longtime counselor for individuals and groups,
an ecopsychologist, and a widely published poet, Hoffman leads workshops
in business, educational, and therapeutic settings.
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