Breakdown: 1975. ‘We Saw an Opening. We Ran and We Took It.’

Robert De Niro and Martin Scorsese on the set of Taxi Driver. Photograph: Archive Photos/Getty Images

The enjoyable documentary ‘Breakdown: 1975’ (Netflix. Directed by Morgan Neville.) considers the conditions that contributed to one of the greatest years in American movie history. 1975 saw the production and release of some stunning films: 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest’, 'Dog Day Afternoon’, ‘Nashville’, 'Taxi Driver', 'All the President's Men', ‘Network.' And many more. Let us consider some of the lessons we can learn from this extraordinary burst of creativity. (The documentary in fact reviews a slightly broader period than one year. Just think mid-‘70s.)
 
‘1975. It’s the old story: you had to be there. It was so alive. Everything wiped away. All the old conventions wiped away. And we were creating a new world. It was a perfect time.’
Martin Scorsese, Director
 
1. Never Let a Crisis Go to Waste
 
The United States was in turmoil. President Nixon had resigned in 1974, and the Watergate scandal that had precipitated his departure had undermined public trust in government. The Vietnam War had left deep fractures in national pride and social cohesion. The OPEC oil embargo had led to price rises and gasoline rationing. Crime had increased. The assumption of ongoing prosperity had been challenged. The American Dream had been tarnished.
 
‘It is said that the greatest public happiness is induced by gradual change. Not rapid change, not a total lack of change, but gradual change. Well, in our recent time, the change has been so rapid it is upsetting. Our cosy, familiar world is turned upside down.’
TV News Report, 1975

2. Seize the Moment
 
The upheaval that beset the nation also led to a crisis of confidence in Hollywood. Studio heads found that a public raised on a relentless TV diet had become more demanding and more cynical. John Wayne westerns and big budget musicals didn’t cut it anymore. They had to find fresh talent and ideas.
 
A new generation of writers, directors and actors seized the moment.
 
‘Studios let go. If you were an independent film maker, that was your chance to run in and say: ’I’ve got one.’ ‘OK, make it. We don’t know what works.’ The inmates were running the asylum.’
Albert Brooks, Actor, Director, Screenwriter
 

Jack Nicholson, Danny DeVito and other cast members in ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.’ Associated Press

3. Read the Room
 
This young creative cohort was more in tune with the zeitgeist of mid-‘70s America: the paranoia and corrosion of trust; the alienation, anger and anxiety.
 
‘It was like the ground was in flames and tulips were coming up at the same time.’
Studio Executive
 
‘The Conversation’ (1974. Directed by Francis Ford Coppola) focused on ambiguities and deceptions in the world of surveillance. And ‘Chinatown’ (1974. Directed by Roman Polanski), set amid the California water wars of the 1930s, exposed systemic corruption, the inevitability of evil, the futility of seeking justice.
 
Jake Gittes: Why are you doing it? How much better can you eat? What could you buy that you can't already afford? 
Noah Cross: The future, Mr. Gittes!
‘Chinatown’
 
In similar vein, ‘Three Days of the Condor’ (1975. Directed by Sydney Pollack) imagined a murderous rogue unit operating within the CIA. And ‘All the President’s Men’ (1976. Directed by Alan J Pakula) shone a light on the conspiracies and cover-ups of Watergate. 
 
'Forget the myths the media's created about the White House. The truth is, these are not very bright guys, and things got out of hand.'
Deep Throat, ‘All the President’s Men’
 
These thrilling dramas were in conversation with the culture of the time. They walked in step with contemporary news events. They reflected real worries about power, corruption and lies.
 
‘A certain idealism, and a certain hope that we thought we had – that was extinguished.’
Warren Beatty, Actor
 
When in 1975 a US Senate Select Committee revealed that the CIA had in fact for many years, been plotting international assassinations and spying on US citizens – politicians, activists and journalists - there was a sense that suspicions had been confirmed.
 
‘If this government ever became a tyranny; if a dictator ever took charge in this country, the technological capacity that the intelligence community has given the government could enable it to impose total tyranny. And there would be no way to fight back.’ 
Frank Church, The Church Committee
 
 4. Keep Up with Reality
 
New York was in a particularly parlous state in 1975. After years of deficit spending, the city was on the verge of bankruptcy. But President Gerald Ford, who had succeeded Nixon, refused to provide a federal bailout.
 
‘Ford to City: Drop Dead’
Headline in the New York Daily News 
 
Rather than turning away, the directors of New Hollywood exposed the reality of urban decay.
 
Martin Scorsese’s ‘Taxi Driver’, set in a benighted New York, depicted a Vietnam veteran (Robert De Niro) whose mental state deteriorates to the point where, as Scorsese explains, ‘being cut off from people in the most populous city in the world, he explodes.’
 
‘Loneliness has followed me my whole life. Everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There's no escape. I'm God's lonely man.’
Travis Bickle, ‘Taxi Driver’
 
‘Dog Day Afternoon’ (1975. Directed by Sidney Lumet) related the true story of a bank robbery and hostage taking. Such was the sense of frustration with authority at the time, that in the drama the crowd outside the bank cheers on the criminal (Al Pacino).
 
‘We’re having a tough time keeping up with reality. Maybe that’s why we’re so interested in doing movies about actual events that did happen.’
Sidney Lumet, Director
 
5. Just Feel It
 
A strong theme amongst the creative community in this era was trusting gut instinct.
 
‘De Niro. We didn’t even have to talk very much about what it is and what it meant. We just felt it.’
Martin Scorsese, Director
 
Actors were strong-minded and forthright with their opinions. Warren Beatty, for example, who starred in ‘The Parallax View’ (1974. Directed by Alan J Pakula) – the story of a secretive corporation engaged in political assassination. 
 
‘When I make a film, I’m not interested basically in how people perceive it. I’m interested in telling the truth.’
Warren Beatty, Actor

Network (1976) Film still.

6. Wake People Up
 
All these movies shared a commitment to confront the American public with the reality of their current condition; to shatter illusions; to rouse a response.
 
‘A film can put you to sleep nicely, or it can wake you up.’
Joan Tewkesbury, Writer, Director
 
'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' (1975. Directed by Miloš Forman) starred Jack Nicholson as a new patient at a mental institution. The film asked questions about sanity, rebellion, and institutional control. As its promotional campaign proclaimed:
 
'If he's crazy, what does that make you?'
 
‘Network’ (1976. Directed by Sidney Lumet) depicted a television network struggling with poor ratings until its longtime news anchor (Peter Finch) has a breakdown on-air, making his show a surprise hit. 
 
'The American people are turning sullen. They've been clobbered on all sides by Vietnam, Watergate, the inflation, the depression; they've turned off, shot up, and they've f**ked themselves limp, and nothing helps...The American people want somebody to articulate their rage for them.’
Diana Christensen, ‘Network’
 
7. Find Inspiration in Contemporary Psychology, Sociology and Technology
 
The movie makers of the mid-1970s also turned for inspiration to contemporary developments in psychology, sociology and technology.
 
The Women’s Movement set a context for the psychological thriller 'The Stepford Wives' (1975. Directed by Bryan Forbes) and the romantic comedy 'Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore' (1974. Directed by Martin Scorsese). 
 
Similarly, the telekinetic powers used by Sissy Spacek, the heroine in ‘Carrie’ (1976. Directed by Brian De Palma), may have been prompted by EST and the trend towards self-actualisation – the philosophy that you can’t help anyone before you help yourself; reality is based on feelings not facts; you need to ‘control your own soap opera.’
 
There was also a growing concern about computers.
 
‘Some people feel threatened by them. Some think they tend to dehumanise. And others fear they may eventually take over their jobs.’
Ken Kashiwahara, ABC News
 
This technophobia found dramatic expression in ‘Rollerball' (1975. Directed by Norman Jewison), which presented a dystopian future where humanity is governed by corporations, and a supercomputer enforces social control, edits history and provides violent entertainment.
 
8. Every Revolution Prompts a Counter-Revolution. 
 
One of the many artistic peaks of 1975 was ‘Nashville,’ Robert Altman’s satirical drama following 24 different characters over a five-day period leading up to a gala concert for a populist Presidential candidate (for the Replacement Party). 
 
‘My primary job: I try to reflect what I see. It’s like a painting. It’s my vision of what it is that I’m dealing with. And that’s all. I have nothing to say. I have no comments.’
Robert Altman, Director
 
Though critically acclaimed, Altman's slow, sprawling cinematic mosaic was not a box office success. And it prompted criticism that it didn’t reflect the actuality of Middle America. As one Kansas moviegoer observed:
 
‘Somebody told me that I didn’t like Nashville because I didn’t understand it. That may well be. But there seem to be some filmmakers and critics who don’t understand America.’
 
The division between Middle America and its coasts was expanding. And a conservative backlash was brewing. Ronald Reagan, Governor of California, was in the ascendant. The New Right campaigned against school busing, rising crime rates and the breakdown of traditional values. The big TV hits of 1975 were ‘All in the Family’, with its bigoted anti-hero Archie Bunker, and the saccharine ‘50s nostalgia of ‘Happy Days.’ 
 
For every action, there is a reaction. Every revolution prompts a counter-revolution. 
 
9. Remember: A Lot of People Like Buttered Popcorn
 
‘Jaws’ (1975. Directed by Steven Spielberg) related the chaos and confusion caused when a man-eating shark attacks beachgoers at a New England summer resort. With its innovative marketing campaign, its nerve-jangling suspense and adrenaline thrills, it became the highest grossing movie of all time (until Star Wars in 1977). 
 
It represented a change in style and tone. 
 
‘I like taking people into a dark theatre with a thousand strangers and giving them an experience that they’ll never forget. I certainly want to involve myself with intimate storytelling and people’s fantasies and people’s relationships. But by the same token, I like buttered popcorn. I can’t help it. I just like it.’
Steven Spielberg
 
A child interviewed outside an early showing of ‘Jaws’ explained his enthusiasm:
 
‘The villain isn’t winning any more. He’s losing.’
 
And so, gradually, the curtain was drawn on this extraordinary period of brave, innovative movie-making – a time when talent was given free expression, when the United States took a long hard look at itself in the mirror. In its place came the era of the mainstream blockbuster. Hollywood returned to making movies it could sell.
 
The nominees for Best Picture at the 49th Academy Awards, honouring films from 1976, included 'All the President's Men', ‘Network', and 'Taxi Driver.’  The prize was won by ‘Rocky.' 
 
‘Rocky wins the Oscar. That night was the end. That was it.’
Martin Scorsese, Director
 
Inevitably, one can’t help watching a review of the social and political tumult of 1975 without reflecting on our current condition. We live in a world of unstable government, of culture wars and media manipulation; where technology empowers and disempowers, connects and disconnects; where truth is disputed and trust is eroded.
 
This may prompt pessimism and melancholy. But the story of the mid-‘70s American movie industry should also spur creative people to rage against the machine; to speak truth to power; to seize the opportunities presented by our own anxious age.
 
‘We saw an opening. We ran and we took it.’
Martin Scorsese, Director
 
 
'It's not my way to love you just when no one's looking.
It's not my way to take your hand if I'm not sure.
It's not my way to let you see what's going on inside of me.
When it's a love you won't be needing, you're not free.
Please stop pulling at my sleeve if you're just playing.
If you won't take the things you make me want to give.
I never cared too much for games and this one's driving me insane.
You're not half as free to wander as you claim.
But I'm easy
I'm easy
Give the word and I'll play your game.
So that's how it ought to be.
Because I'm easy.’

Keith Carradine, 'I'm Easy’ (written by Keith Carradine and performed in ‘Nashville')

No. 559

Lumet’s Lessons: Preparing for Lucky Accidents

‘All great work is preparing yourself for the accident to happen.’
Sidney Lumet

Between 1957 and 2007 Sidney Lumet directed some 50 films. He gave us thrilling legal dramas, like ’12 Angry Men’ and ‘The Verdict’; gripping analyses of corrupt institutions, like ‘Serpico’ and ‘Network’; and searing psychological stories, like ‘The Pawnbroker’ and ‘Dog Day Afternoon’. He presented us with moral ambiguity, isolated anti-heroes and prisoners of conscience; flawed individuals struggling to find justice and truth. He was known as ‘the Dickens of New York’, ‘the actor’s director.’ And he taught us a great deal about the creative craft. 

‘If you prayed to inhabit a character, Sidney was the priest who listened to your prayers, helped them come true.'
Al Pacino

1. Start with Empathy

‘All good work is self revelation.’

Lumet was born in Philadelphia in 1924 to Polish immigrant parents who worked in the Yiddish theatre. He grew up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, studied acting at the Professional Children's School, and, from the age of 5, appeared in several Broadway productions and one movie. After attending Columbia University, he served as a radar repairman in India and Burma during World War II. On his return he enlisted as a member of the inaugural class at New York's Actors Studio. 

Lumet loved drama, but he realised that performing was not for him. So he set up his own theatre workshop and appointed himself director, while also teaching at the High School of Performing Arts.

His early experience gave him a life-long empathy with actors.

‘I understand what they're going through. The self-exposure, which is at the heart of all their work, is done using their own body. It's their sexuality, their strength or weakness, their fear. And that's extremely painful.’

Scene from 12 Angry Men

2. Turn Your Disadvantages into Advantages

In 1950 Yul Brynner, who was directing television dramas at the time, invited Lumet to join him at CBS. When Brynner left to star in ‘The King and I,’ Lumet took over. He shot two live shows a week: murder mysteries, comedies and original plays. His output included the innovative ‘You Are There’, a series that covered historical events – such as the death of Socrates and the Boston Tea Party - with modern news techniques.

In 1957 Lumet was commissioned to produce his first movie, ‘12 Angry Men’ starring Henry Fonda. A taut examination of the US jury system - shot in just 19 days - the drama played out in a claustrophobic jury room one sweltering New York summer.

From the outset Lumet displayed a thoughtful and imaginative approach to his craft.

‘It never occurred to me that that was a difficult thing to do, to do a whole movie in one room. You come in with a certain arrogance when you’re young… I knew that the way to do it was to turn what was seemingly a disadvantage into an advantage. As the movie went on, I made the room smaller:  the lenses got longer and longer, so that walls kept pulling in closer and closer, the camera kept dropping, dropping, dropping, so finally the ceiling was right over their heads. So that actually the whole piece kept contracting. And dramatically that’s what the movie was about.’

3. Be Whatever They Need You to Be

In the early phase of his film career Lumet was often tasked with translating stage plays onto the big screen. Between 1960 and 1962 he adapted classics by Tennessee Williams, Eugene O'Neill and Arthur Miller. 

Lumet’s theatre background clearly impacted his style of movie direction. He rehearsed a minimum of two weeks before filming, and during that time he also blocked the scenes with his cameraman. Consequently, when it came to the actual production, he would usually shoot a scene in one take, two at the most, and he consistently delivered on time and on budget.

Lumet had a natural affinity with actors. He worked with them individually on their parts and he was happy to share ideas. He would often improvise dialogue and had the best exchanges incorporated in the script.

 ‘My job is to be whatever they need me to be. I’m no believer in any particular kind of technique. I’ll work any way they want to work.’

Image from The Hill

4. Trust Your Instinctive First Response

Lumet soon broadened his output beyond stage adaptations. His work tackled serious, psychological themes: the agonies of conscience; guilt and innocence; honesty and truth.

‘The Pawnbroker’ (1964), starring Rod Steiger, reflected on the enduring mental scars of a Holocaust survivor living in Harlem. ‘The Hill’ (1965), with Sean Connery, examined the brutality of a military prison. ‘Fail Safe’ (1964), again featuring Henry Fonda, exposed the ease with which Cold War misunderstandings could escalate into nuclear destruction. 

In selecting a script Lumet always trusted his gut.

‘I respond to a script or an idea completely instinctively, don’t try to analyse it, don’t try to fit it into a preconceived notion of what I want. And then, after a number of years, I can look back and I can say: ’Oh, that’s what I was interested in at that time.’’

5. Plunge in with Faith

Lumet extended this instinctive approach into the production process.

‘Self deception is really necessary to even go to work in the first place. Because the work itself is so hard you’ve got to be prepared to say: ‘I believe in this. I don’t see the problem.’ A kind of plunging in with faith.’

Lumet continued to be fascinated by the technical possibilities available to him in film. In ‘The Pawnbroker’ he used flashbacks to communicate the persistence of memory. In ‘The Hill’ he employed just three lenses: 24, 21 and 18mm. As the drama developed, he distorted the foreground and let the background recede to create the impression of escalating mental pressure.

Lumet compared his process to that of making a mosaic.

'Someone once asked me what making a movie was like. I said it was like making a mosaic. Each setup is like a tiny tile. You color it, shape it, polish it as best you can. You'll do six or seven hundred of these, maybe a thousand. Then you literally paste them together and hope it's what you set out to do. But if you expect the final mosaic to look like anything, you’d better know what you’re going for as you work on each tiny tile.’

Sidney Lumet with Al Pacino on the set of Serpico. Photograph: Everett Collection/Rex Features © Artists Entertainment Complex

6. Set the Mental Juices Flowing

Having grown up in New York during the Depression, Lumet witnessed a good deal of poverty and corruption. His films often focused on malpractice in the system and the fragility of justice.

‘If we are to have faith in justice we need only to believe in ourselves and act with justice. I believe there is justice in our hearts.’

‘Serpico’ (1973) starring Al Pacino, told the story of a whistleblower in the New York City police force, ‘a rebel with a cause.’ ‘Network’ (1976) presented Peter Finch as a news anchor suffering a breakdown, railing against the iniquities of modern media. ‘The Verdict’ (1982) featured Paul Newman as a washed up lawyer taking on a medical negligence case to salvage his career.

'I have always been fascinated by the human cost involved in following passions and commitments, and the cost those passions and commitments inflict on others.'

Lumet consistently aimed for more than entertainment.

‘While the goal of all movies is to entertain, the kind of film in which I believe goes one step further. It compels the spectator to examine one facet or another of his own conscience. It stimulates thought and sets the mental juices flowing.’

7. If It Moves You, It’ll Move Them

For the most part Lumet was a social realist. He insisted on the most natural light and he edited his films so the camera was unobtrusive. He employed camera techniques sparingly and only in service to the core theme of the movie.

‘I hate technique for the sake of technique.’

Conscious that the urban environment provided a vibrant canvas for his work, and sensitive to the particular rhythms of his hometown, Lumet preferred to shoot in New York. 

‘Locations are characters in my movies. The city is capable of portraying a mood a scene requires…. New York is filled with reality; Hollywood is a fantasyland.'

Lumet often worked with true stories. 1975’s ‘Dog Day Afternoon’, based on real events that took place in Brooklyn three years earlier, starred Al Pacino as a small time crook who plans a robbery to pay for his partner's sex reassignment surgery. But the heist goes badly wrong and turns into a hostage situation under the media spotlight.

The film included an emotionally draining scene in which Pacino’s character calls home. Lumet incurred Pacino’s anger by asking him to do a second take. But the director had a reason. 

‘When we’re tired we weep more easily, we laugh more easily. We’re just wide open.’

Lumet didn’t double guess the public’s reactions. His driving principle was that if a shot moved him, it would move them.

‘If I'm moved by a scene, a situation... I have to assume that that's going to work for an audience.’

8. Prepare for Lucky Accidents

Lumet had a strong work ethic, developing more than one movie a year for most of his career.

‘If I don't have a script I adore, I do one I like. If I don't have one I like, I do one that has an actor I like or that presents some technical challenge.’

Inevitably this prolific approach led to as many failures as successes. 

I’m just a great believer in quantity – more chances for the accident to happen…I need one hit, so I can get the money for three more flops.’

Lumet believed that there was a price to pay for ambitious film-making.

‘Great scripts can be screwed up more easily. Because the demand that they make is so much greater. Is there anything more boring than a bad Hamlet?’

Lumet saw his role as maximising the chances of ‘lucky accidents.’

'The truth is that nobody knows what this magic combination is that produces a first-rate of work. I’m not being modest. There’s a reason some directors can make first-rate movies and others never will. But all we can do is prepare the groundwork that allows for the ‘lucky accidents’ that make a first-rate movie happen. Whether or not it will happen is something we never know. There are too many intangibles.'

1976 Sidney Lumet & Faye Dunaway on the set of 'Network'

9. Make Sure Everyone’s Going in the Same Direction

In the course of his career Lumet was nominated four times for a directing Oscar. But he never won. He lost out to some great movies: 'The Bridge on the River Kwai’, 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' and ‘Gandhi.’ In 1976 the Academy preferred ‘Rocky’ to Lumet’s masterpiece ‘Network.’ 

‘Everyone was saying we were going to take it all. And on the flight out to LA, [screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky] said, 'Rocky's going to take Best Picture.' And I said, 'No, no, it's a dopey little movie.' And he said, 'It's just the sort of sentimental crap they love out there.' And he was right.’

In 2005 Lumet was presented with an Honorary Academy Award. 

‘I wanted one, damn it, and I felt I deserved one.’

Lumet died at the age of 86 in 2011. 

In some ways, with his gritty depictions of the modern city and his concern for individual conscience and social justice, Lumet was a director in the neo-realist tradition. But in his empathetic relationship with his actors and his instinctive judgement, he also looked forward. And he provided us with a compelling definition of contemporary leadership in any field.

 ‘My job is to get the best out of everybody working on [the film]. And make sure we are literally going in the same direction. That’s why I’m called the Director.’


'Accidents will happen,
They only hit and run.
You used to be a victim, now you're not the only one.
Accidents will happen,
They only hit and run.
I don't want to hear it, because I know what I've done.’

Elvis Costello and the Attractions, ‘Accidents Will Happen'

No. 436