(Spoilers)
"Oh lord, the Green Mile is so long." sighs the old
man at the movie's end. Frank Darabont was confident enough of
his story that he leaves himself open to mockery here, never
considering that his audience might snarl in agreement. Three
hours and two minutes to tell a tale that boils down to who the
hell cares and so the fuck what?
Another King prison fantasy, where men relate openly to each
other, their not-so-hard-time wearing down their rough edges,
turning them into men wisened and saddened by their earlier
crimes. Prison guards are fine, well-intentioned men (although
there's always one bad one, for contrast) who view their job as a
calling, to serve as a model of manhood, making the prisoner's
path to enlightment an easier one. Tom Hanks plays the prison
guard in charge of the death row in a Louisiana prison, and his
team of dedicated co-workers (David Morse, Barry Pepper, Jeffrey DeMunn and the requisite bad apple Doug Hutchison)
care for their prisoners with sensitivity, caring, and
compassion, all the way to the moment they pull the switch and
fry the suckers into oblivion.
Frankly, that's harder to believe than the mystical healing
powers of a huge, childlike prisoner, John Coffey (Michael Duncan)
and the magic mouse.
But even looking past the length and the suspension of
disbelief required, the Green Mile's story is flawed beyond any
redemption. The incidents that complete the story arc are in the
story only to complete the story arc. They don't flow
naturally from the story itself. And much of the time, they are
unbelievable on top of that.
We are expected, for example, to care about a character whose sole
purpose in the story is to be sick and be cured--apart from
her cure, she has one scene--whose whole purpose is to drive
Hanks to seek her cure.
Why drag in this character? Why not make one of the main
characters sick? Well, any of those characters would believe in
Coffey's miraculous powers, so they'd just trot right up to the
prison. Instead, they take the prisoner to the sick person. Why?
Because at one key moment early on in the escapade, another prisoner reaches out
and touches Coffey--who, it turns out, isn't just a healer, but a
telepath as well. Everything that occurs after that touch is
predicated on that touch having occurred. And it wouldn't have
occurred if the sick person had come to the prison. Hence, the
sick person who can't come to the prison and isn't in the movie
for any other reason than to set up the circumstance for the
touch.
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Of course, we also have to accept that Coffey's guilt is
firmly established, else Hanks and others have no real gulf to
overcome in believing in him, so we have to have a large black
man convicted of raping and murdering two little girls. In
Louisiana, 1935, found with the little girls at the scene of the
crime by 100 white men with shot guns. He's arrested. Well, yeah.
That works.
Given that it goes on forever, given the deeply flawed story
line, Green Mile could be a hell of a lot worse, and if you watch
the movie, give thanks to the sharp dialogue and the performances.
Hanks is wonderful; he's been doing such great work lately that
the quality is taken for granted. I don't think he's phoned in a
performance since Sleepless in Seattle.
David Morse is one of my favorite underrated actors and is handed
the lion's share of the movie's wry humor; his big-man calm is a
very effective foil for Hanks. Barry Pepper and Jeffrey DeMunn
were fine. Sam Rockwell has a grand old time being unredeemably
repulsive, and Doug Hutchison is note-perfect as the connected
little with a yen to cook someone. Duncan's work is solid; no
shame in his nomination. Michael Jeter is a surprise; he's a
nasty little Cajun scum who is strangely sympathetic nonetheless.
Cromwell is wasted. Bonnie Hunt is wonderful as Hanks' wife, even
if I'd have ruthlessly edited her role out of the movie.
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What's amazing is how many people think this movie is an
indictment of the death penalty. Why? Because a character cooks?
But the character cooks because of a vicious little fuck, not
because of the electric chair. The incident isn't an accident, (and
is telegraphed in the first 20 minutes so clearly they may as
well have put a neon light around the dialog to signal the intent),
has nothing to do with faulty equipment, and the film shows two
other executions handled with respect and competence. In fact,
there is a nicely grim little scene in which Cromwell, as the
warden, demands to know what went wrong and Hanks says, "Nothing
went wrong. He's dead." No position I can see, other than
that it's bad to kill people who didn't commit the crime that
they were sentenced for. There's a position way out on
that limb.
It's certainly worth a rental--if it weren't for the Oscars,
I'd say give it a pass until then. But if you're determined to
see the nominees, you won't regret it too badly. The
destination's a drag, but the scenery is enjoyable.
