Clagett’s book embraces the failures as much as the successes, and that’s what makes it a great read. This isn’t about Friedkin’s personal life, or his many arguments with others in the film industry (if you’re interested in that side of his story then Peter Biskind’s Easy Riders Raging Bulls might well be the book for you). It’s an in-depth look at every film Friedkin has directed, including aspects such as structure and dialogue, followed by critical and public opinion, and Clagett’s own thoughts on why the film worked, or failed. As much time is given to Deal Of The Century (1983) and Rampage (1987) as The French Connection, and what is revealed is perhaps, more than anything, a pattern of bad choices. Often Friedkin and sometimes the film’s producers blame casting; for Sorceror, the fact that it was written for Steve McQueen and would have been a very different film with him in the lead role is mooted. Sometimes the choice of script comes under fire – you get the feeling that Clagett is firmly of the opinion that Friedkin’s talent certainly doesn’t stretch to comedy. But comedy, thriller, horror, drama: Friedkin has made films that don’t quite work in a number of genres, so that can’t quite be to blame. Perhaps it all boils down to something that Friedkin says himself: “The more experienced you get, the harder it gets.” In fact, the only problem with the book is, I think, not one that could be avoided. It feels at the end of the read that we are no closer to really uncovering any truth about Friedkin. He inspires enmity and adoration. He claims that Hitchcock made only a few really good films and left him unimpressed, but then cites Shadow Of A Doubt as a big influence on The Exorcist and thinks about hiring Bernard Herrmann to write the score. He strives for great realism, and says that accounts for the success of The French Connection and The Exorcist, but then enjoys the fact that mistakes in editing go unnoticed, claiming that when the viewer is totally immersed in the action such mistakes don’t matter. Well, none of us are without contradiction. And I get the feeling that Friedkin is as much of a mystery to himself as to any of us. Reflecting on his later films, he says, “It’s as though someone reached up inside an animal and pulled the guts out.” Something visceral is missing; what, and why, remains unknown. Any thoughts about this book? We’d love to hear them. At the beginning of May, Kaci will be reviewing Mothership (The Ever-Expanding Universe) by Martin Leicht for the Book Club fiction choice. Follow our Twitter feed for faster news and bad jokes right here. And be our Facebook chum here.
