I will start out by saying that based on the source material - a brilliant satire taking swings alternately at Joe McCarthy and the Korean War with alternate hilarity and shock - this movie failed miserably. We live in a time when the new communism is Islam and terrorism. We are in the middle of a war many believe is only hurting us at this point, where the cause does not justify the means.
One could see a gold mine of opportunity for resurrecting the satirical spirit of Richard Condon's novel, and John Frankenheimer's classic. When the black-list has been replaced by detainees in Guantanamo Bay, Jonathan Demme strives to walk a tight-rope between Left and Right, making a film that could have spoken volumes about our current climate, and done as Condon and Frankenheimer did, by dissing both extremes. (When the original film first opened, Condon was pleased to see Communists picketing the film in Paris, and American Legion picketing in Orange County, CA) "The Manchurian Candidate" was not meant to cater to all markets. It doesn't still, because certain individuals claim it's hitting out at the Bush camp. And why is that? Because they think everyone's contracted Michael Moore syndrome or something? Or is it just because Al Franken makes an appearance as a news reporter? In truth, Demme's version, while creating a fairly believable alternate world where the same modern situations are occurring in countries with different names than, say, Iraq.
Now to my other point. Sure, the movie could use some of the black humor Axelrod's original script offered up. But it doesn't. Instead, we are treated to a vaguely similar script where events have been reshaped to better fit an unbiased modern America. This would hardly be worth our time if not for some excellent acting.
Denzel Washington has had roles as good as this before, but I've never seen him in such a wildly ambiguous role as our default hero who becomes so completely obsessed and paranoid with the world around him that he even tries to murder his girlfriend! We know he's the good guy, because we know what's going on isn't just in his head, but how far is he willing to go to find out the truth? Admittedly, Sinatra never strived for this kind of psychosis.
Equally good is Meryl Streep as a bitch you just love to hate. She's not the quietly manipulative matriarch Angela Lansbury introduced us to, nor the ambitious seductress of Condon's original book. She is a first-class predator, looking to have her cake and eat it to.
Jon Voight, Kimberly Elise, and Jeffrey Wright also give fine portrayals. But Liev Schreiber, as the title character (or is he?) is woefully underused. What ever happened to the love-hate relationship between Raymond and his mother? What about his close bond to Ben Marco, that here goes as far as Marco biting his shoulder, shrugged off as a man gone mad. Laurence Harvey's Raymond was hard to like, and even harder to dislike. Schreiber, who is usually surprisingly good, is an absolute bore.
In the end the changes to the story don't disappoint for people expecting the same old thing, but there are uneven plot holes to this conclusion, and it leaves one desiring more of an explanation.
I strongly recommend you read Condon's absolutely scathing novel. Or at least give the 1962 version a try.
One could see a gold mine of opportunity for resurrecting the satirical spirit of Richard Condon's novel, and John Frankenheimer's classic. When the black-list has been replaced by detainees in Guantanamo Bay, Jonathan Demme strives to walk a tight-rope between Left and Right, making a film that could have spoken volumes about our current climate, and done as Condon and Frankenheimer did, by dissing both extremes. (When the original film first opened, Condon was pleased to see Communists picketing the film in Paris, and American Legion picketing in Orange County, CA) "The Manchurian Candidate" was not meant to cater to all markets. It doesn't still, because certain individuals claim it's hitting out at the Bush camp. And why is that? Because they think everyone's contracted Michael Moore syndrome or something? Or is it just because Al Franken makes an appearance as a news reporter? In truth, Demme's version, while creating a fairly believable alternate world where the same modern situations are occurring in countries with different names than, say, Iraq.
Now to my other point. Sure, the movie could use some of the black humor Axelrod's original script offered up. But it doesn't. Instead, we are treated to a vaguely similar script where events have been reshaped to better fit an unbiased modern America. This would hardly be worth our time if not for some excellent acting.
Denzel Washington has had roles as good as this before, but I've never seen him in such a wildly ambiguous role as our default hero who becomes so completely obsessed and paranoid with the world around him that he even tries to murder his girlfriend! We know he's the good guy, because we know what's going on isn't just in his head, but how far is he willing to go to find out the truth? Admittedly, Sinatra never strived for this kind of psychosis.
Equally good is Meryl Streep as a bitch you just love to hate. She's not the quietly manipulative matriarch Angela Lansbury introduced us to, nor the ambitious seductress of Condon's original book. She is a first-class predator, looking to have her cake and eat it to.
Jon Voight, Kimberly Elise, and Jeffrey Wright also give fine portrayals. But Liev Schreiber, as the title character (or is he?) is woefully underused. What ever happened to the love-hate relationship between Raymond and his mother? What about his close bond to Ben Marco, that here goes as far as Marco biting his shoulder, shrugged off as a man gone mad. Laurence Harvey's Raymond was hard to like, and even harder to dislike. Schreiber, who is usually surprisingly good, is an absolute bore.
In the end the changes to the story don't disappoint for people expecting the same old thing, but there are uneven plot holes to this conclusion, and it leaves one desiring more of an explanation.
I strongly recommend you read Condon's absolutely scathing novel. Or at least give the 1962 version a try.