Network

(1976)
Forget 1984. Forget all those diluted, dystopian fantasies where everything is terrible and the world has gone to hell and theres nothing we can do about it, because theyre all just pale, faded watercolors next to the vivid vibrance that, even three decades later, is Network. Ostensibly the story of a fourth television network (only a fiction in 1975, when the film was made) named UBS and some of the principal players in its ascent, Network is not, as many say, a satire of the world of television; it is a warning, so carefully conceived, artfully constructed, and masterfully written that even thirty years later it will send a shiver down your back if you have any free brain cells left. Network concerns itself mainly with one Howard Beale (Peter Finch), an anchorman who is given his two weeks notice and proceeds to maybe have a breakdown, maybe have a vision its never made completely clear what transforms Howard from an anchorman into a prophet, and it isnt important. But Howard stops reading the news and starts ranting about life, the world, and most importantly television and its deleterious effect on humanity. His old friend, news director Max Schumacher (William Holden) is concerned for Howard, but his humane interest is swept aside by Diana Christensen (Faye Dunaway), who sees Howard sparking an interest in their viewing audience and raising their share. Diana finds support from Frank Hackett (Robert Duvall), who sees the possible revenue growth a potentially popular show could bring to the ailing network and allows Howard to go on ranting live over the air. And what Beale rants. Of course most people remember the Im mad as hell, and Im not going to take this anymore! line, which is couched in the middle of a stirring speech; but thats hardly the high moment of his prophecy, nor is it anywhere near as frightening as his following warnings, one about the dangers of television and how stupid it makes people, and secondly, about how foreign investment is gobbling up America. Granted, writer Paddy Chayefsky sometimes abandons the narrative to talk directly to the viewer; but given the importance and relevance of his message, this can be forgiven. You need to pay attention when Beale speaks, when all of them speak; you need to hear and understand the dire threat that even now exists in this country. Despite more than thirty years passing since the movie was released, Howard Beale and Chayefsky, for what they have to say, may well have got up and conceived their polemic this very morning. But Chayefsky doesnt just warn us with Beale; no, a lesser talent and a lesser film might be satisfied with that, but Network also shows by example what happens when you turn away from the more humane aspects of humanity and become absorbed in its obsessions, in its You Tube and its TMZ.com, its Fox News and its American Idol. Network also delivers to us the character of Diana Christensen, a cold, inhuman, success-driven programming executive for whom ratings are

everything. At first Diana grabs the attention because she is sharp, shes smart, and Dunaways angular beauty and arresting eyes fixate the camera, and the viewer; but we see as we get to know her that the sharpness and the smartness penetrates all the way to the core, until there is nothing in her but that; no soul, no heart, and definitely no compassion. Even when she whisks away with Schumacher for an illicit weekend getaway, all and I mean, literally, all she can talk about is her work, the ratings, the numbers, and the shows shes developing. Chayefsky brilliantly shows the two people in intimate settings a warmly lit dinner, a cozy cabin and its obvious that the only idea that stirs Dianas sex drive is one of success over her rivals in television. Its a one-way street with her; Max is attentive and even loving, but he might as well be trying to romance a plasma screen TV. Such a film could have been written, naturally, but could never have been so overwhelmingly effective without some of the best acting youll ever see. Finch is perfect as the possibly mad, possibly visionary Beale, his blue eyes wide with revelation and contempt, with anger and fear. Robert Duvall is also perfectly cast as Hackett, a man for whom only the corporation and its money matters; like Diana, he has no soul, only wrath and ambition, and Duvall highlights those traits marvelously. William Holdens Max, well, he gives a good performance, and his character is sympathetic, but given the caliber of the acting he is surrounded with, somehow he comes up a little short (it doesnt help that Ive read that he was barely chosen over Glenn Ford, who I feel is a much better actor and would probably have done better with the role). Ned Beatty has only a few short scenes, but one of them is the most frightening in the film, Chayefskys direst warning that we dare not ignore, even now; he is magnetic and electrifying. But all of the acting, superb as it is, comes up short next to Faye Dunaways Diana. I can say without hyperbole this was the most deserved Best Actress Oscar that was ever given out. Dunaway is haunting, haunted, frightening, utterly without humanity, and you cant take your eyes off her for a second. Beale may be the lightning rod around which the movie rages; but she is the storm that provides all of its power. Even if there werent compelling reason to see this movie (and there is), watch it for Dunaways performance alone, and see what real acting is. This film should be required viewing for every American aged fifteen and older. Of course most of them below twenty-five wouldnt understand it, or wouldnt see the relevance to the pop cultural sewer we find ourselves in today; but the films message is as clear, dire, and relevant now as it was thirty years ago, and is so cleverly, clearly, and brilliantly executed that it cannot fail to have an impact on any viewer whose mind yet possesses even the slightest bit of intelligence. Each scene is cut at exactly the right moment, never too long or too short, to have the greatest impact; and the writing is at a level we would not see again for another twenty years, until Aaron Sorkin hit his peak (one can imagine the fifteen-year-old Sorkin seeing this movie and having his life transformed; one does not have to imagine it, one can see clearly its influence on him in the dialogue). Ive been told by most people who read my reviews that they do so mostly for enjoyment, even though my intended purpose is to advise you whether or not to see a film, a decision most of you are perfectly capable of making on your own without any help from me. But I urge you no, in fact, I demand that you do yourself the favor of seeing this film

 not in a few months, not when it comes up in your Netflix queue, but now, as soon as you can, today if you can manage it. Such brilliance should not be mine to enjoy alone; it must be shared, and its message must be heeded, if its not too late already. January 26, 2008