The Chase

By cinematic standards The Chase (1966) is a bit of a bait and switch. The title, the cast and the behind-the-scene pedigree all suggest a semi-escapist prison break story, a manhunt complete with murder, deceit, bullets and blood. But the film directed by Arthur Penn - who would provide all that and more for Bonnie and Clyde just a year later - flips those expectations quite strategically, making a hero out of its troubled convict Bubber Reeves (Robert Redford) and despicable villains out of the residents of the small Texas town that raised this unfortunate son.

Bubber's breakout is the match that finally sets ablaze a bonfire of simmering resentments, lies and violence. Sheriff Calder (Marlon Brando) is ostensibly the man in charge, but he owes his position to Val Rogers (E.G. Marshall), a well-meaning but spineless oilman whose own son, Jake, would trade all their wealth and privilege for a life of poor contentment with his mistress, Anna Reeves (Jane Fonda)...who just happens to be Bubber's wife.

This complicated web of lust and loathing is only the tip of the iceberg. There's also Edwin Stewart (Robert Duvall), the emasculated bank manager whose wife conducts a contemptuously open affair with his co-manager, the local realtor who has his ear to the ground of every bit of town gossip and is only too happy to pass judgment, the long-suffering parents of Bubber who are prepared to sell every possession to defend their son, and the outlying black residents who must tiptoe through a minefield of white superiority.

By modern standards, The Chase is a supercharged soap opera, spending far more time on the emotional baggage of its characters than the mechanics of the plot. It's an intentional creative choice, not so dissimilar from the small-town scandals of Picnic or Peyton Place. But what gives the film significance is the era of its social apocalypse, a mid-60s crisis of conventional morals and ethics epitomized by one gloriously boozy night of debauchery, partner-swapping, racism, and another round of drinks. The Chase holds up a mirror to the decaying American culture...and the result is one hell of a hangover.

As entertainment it's a rough stretch of road. There are a number of undeniably strong performances; Fonda is superb, Redford is sympathetic and Brando is in the process of perfecting his soft-spoken intimidation. But even characters the film allows us to empathize with our put through such an emotional wringer, the experience is anything but pleasant. And perhaps that's the point of this all-too timely expose of our society's faults and foibles: that to be controlled by hate, prejudice, envy, greed and fear...is to be consumed by them.

Twilight Time's 3000-copy limited edition Blu-ray is another gem of a hi-def transfer, capturing the deep purple Texas skies and backlot night shots with beautiful efficiency. Special features include an audio commentary with film historian Lem Dobbs, Julie Kirgo and Nick Redman, original theatrical trailer, isolated score track and liner notes.