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| Passenger, The |
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  (8/10)
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Runtime: 126 |
| Public Rating: 7.33 (3 votes) |
Director: Michelangelo Antonioni |
MPAA Rating:  |
| Genre: Thriller (?) |
Year: 1975 |
| Writer(s): Mark Peploe (story); Mark Peploe & Michelangelo Antonioni (screenplay) |
| Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics |
| Reviewed by: Le Apprenti |
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There are many terms to describe The Passenger. “Entertaining” is not one of them. It is a thriller that does not thrill, a drama that has no conflict, and a romance without romantic tangles. But they did not stop the film from being critically acclaimed during its time. Director Michelangelo Antonioni’s (Blow-Up (1966)) reputation preceded him. Jack Nicholson’s star was soaring with back-to-back Oscar-nominated performances in Chinatown and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. It was a golden decade for both men, but more in spite of than because of The Passenger.
Here’s an idea: Antonioni is deconstructing the film noir. Like the genre, the male protagonist David Locke (Jack Nicholson) is introduced in the very first scene and is the first-person point-of-view for the rest of the film. David is a reporter doing a story in an unnamed African country. That is as far as the filmmaker wants us to know. Throughout almost the entire film, he assumes the identity of a dead salesman named Robertson (Chuck Mulvehill), whom David later discovers, while assuming his identity, is a gunrunner. Like the typical hard-boiled protagonist, he thinks somebody is after him even though we do not actually see them pursuing him. Well, there is the fella named Martin Knight (Ian Hendry) who is a TV-producer colleague of David and wants to contact Robertson regarding David prior to his 'death', whose identity David is assuming; and the cops. For no apparent reason except in a film noir, the male protagonist David wants to trust a beautiful but total stranger represented by Maria Schneider.
Antonioni gives us an insight into David’s condition through the leisurely paced ‘mundane’ sequences that details every facet of his behavior. You get a sense that he is tired but not from physical exhaustion. Why he wants to escape from his own life by switching identities with a dead man is never explained but is clued in through his ‘widow’ Rachel (Jenny Runacre) as she watches footages of her husband’s interviews. It implies a drained, burnt-out human being, but whether it is of a professional or personal nature is not really clear. Even though you can see David’s inner tension, it is not easily felt because of the adagio pacing.
The beautiful stranger, called the Girl, is hardly a femme fatale. She looks like a Plain Jane, one that does not attract attention even on her best day. No conjuring images of Lauren Bacall or Mary Astor where she is concerned. She proves to be an effective character because of strong writing, and Schneider’s performance gives her a substantial personality.
The antagonist ‘spooks’, and there are a handful, do not actually pursue him. Nor do the cuts make any attempt to connect them with the ever-fleeing protagonist. Antonioni shows us what happens to those that come into contact with David – one of them is disposed by a Caucasian man skilled in karate. The people that are after him are not even the bad guys – wife Rachel and the cops. The ‘spooks’ and David remain apart until the finale scene.
There is no doubt the finale scene is what made the film. Beginning with David going to bed and ending 7 minutes later with the cops, David’s wife and Maria discovering his dead body, it provides the only suspense to an otherwise slow-moving and tedious film. Here, Antonioni does not allow you to see what happens to David. His lens move away from his bed towards the window, looking out to take in the surroundings, noting the possible suspects in his murders entering his hotel room, and then leaving. All of this is shot in one long, continuous and brilliant take. Nobody in the film knows who kill him. And neither do we.
Make no mistake, The Passenger is a very well-acted, well-directed and meticulously photographed film. But this glorified artpiece is best appreciated after sampling Antonioni’s other prominent films (such as Blow-Up, his segment in Eros and possibly The Adventure (1960)). Otherwise, it is 126 minutes of perceived drab that cannot be taken back.
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