The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015. Remaining movies: 162 Days to go: 115
Movie #276: Suspect
I love it when my kids watch these movies with me. Tonight my son sat down for Suspect, and he’s the exact age I was when it came out. It’s funny to me the ways in which our initial impressions were eerily similar. Are movie watching habits/preferences hereditary?
He kept being struck by the music in this one. Being a murder mystery, Suspect is filled with striking, dramatic music with ominous tones and startling crescendos. They did not underplay their hand on this one, is what I’m saying. I remember being just as affected when I was younger, finding the whole thing a lot more gruesome and terrifying than it perhaps is.
Suspect is the story of a murdered law clerk and the deaf-mute homeless man (Liam Neeson as Carl Wayne Anderson, showing an aptitude for punching things well before it became his vocation) on trial for the crime. His put-upon public defender is Kathleen Riley (Cher) who winds up illegally working with lobbyist Eddie Sanger (Dennis Quaid) — a smooth-talking sly fox who gets sort of cornered into jury duty on Kathleen’s case by way of sexy banter– to find the real killer and the underlying conspiracy that led to it. The movie is tense and puzzling and the final showdown is incredibly satisfying, as well as being a surprising revelation. I’ve seen it a dozen times, at least, and I never get tired of it.
First and foremost, I can’t possibly emphasize enough how much of a sweater and jacket game both Cher and Dennis Quaid are bringing to this party. She’s got warm, comfy sweaters she lounges around reading case files in, big chunky bold print sweaters for looking chic but casual at the office, and gorgeous midi-length sweater dresses with pockets for conveniently hiding secretly delivered keys. To say nothing of her shearling-lined coat she wears with a jaunty beret or the smartly cropped black leather number she sports in the final scene. Dennis Quaid, meanwhile, has chunky fisherman’s cable knits for days, which he pairs with upscale leather bomber jackets in a combination thick enough to save his life from a maniac wielding a straight razor. Sad it no doubt got ruined by the cut and all the blood, though when he takes it off it’s “Hello abs!”
Supporting turns come by Philip Bosco as the maybe-underhanded District Attorney Paul Gray, Joe Mantegna as the ruthless, arrogant and snide prosecutor Charlie Stella, and an unfortunately-coiffed John Mahoney as the having-none-of-Kathleen’s-shit Judge Helms. One or more of them are onto her.
The movie’s tangential attempts at a little social commentary by way of Carl’s afflictions are pretty half-assed and ineffective, and I must admit I keep wondering if maybe the writers made him a deaf-mute just because Liam Neeson is this awesome, imposing figure to look at but his accent was too strong at the time. It was 1987, after all. It seems plausible to me.
Still, like I said, the central mystery is satisfying and the chemistry between the two leads is surprisingly potent. Quaid was at the peak of his sex-appeal in this era, and Cher has this awesome, reluctant but enthusiastic laugh to close the film that you just know is accompanied by some serious frisky activities behind her closed office door. Seems like good old Kathleen Riley won’t be feeling so put-upon anymore.
Viable Option 