Film #124 - Dick Tracy (1990)
Dick Tracy is Warren Beatty’s big-screen adaptation of Chester Gould’s famous comic strip character. Coming only a year after Batman, it is easy to see why it was kind of overshadowed by that much higher profile film. But despite some similarities (composer Danny Elfman, for instance), they are very different projects with very different aims.
For one thing, Batman strove to distance itself from its comic book origins by taking on a grittier, more realistic look than previous adaptations. Dick Tracy, on the other hand, embraced its comic strip origins, right down to re-creating the four-color look of the classic comic.
Beatty achieved this end through meticulous attention to detail. Everything is painted or manufactured in a specific color. There are few patterns or blends, everything is primary. He also made sure that every color matched, regardless of the texture, location or lighting. Sure, it never reaches the real saturation levels found in the comics or in traditional animation, but it still gives the whole film a look that is unique. Even more impressive is the fact that he achieved this goal with minimal use of computer imagry. He did use some computerized matte paintings for establishing shots, but most effects were optical. It’s interesting to think what he could do today. (Which he intends to, he’s currently fighting a court battle over the rights.)
But all the visual glory in the world would fall flat if the main story was dull and uninteresting. Luckily, Beatty and his co-hort Bo Goldman reworked the screenplay by credited scripters Jim Cash and Jack Epps into a real whiz-bang adventure story. It doesn’t really measure up as a mystery or as a cop film, but for popcorn adventure, it hits the ground running and never lets up.
Of course, Beatty is helped out by the fact that his Hollywood connections allowed him to give Dick Tracy one of the most diverse and impressive casts of any comic adaptation. I mean, let’s look at who’s in this movie in viable roles: Beatty (Dick Tracy), Madonna (Breathless Mahoney), Charles Durning (Chief Brandon), Mandy Patinkin (88 Keys), Paul Sorvino (Lips Manlis), Dustin Hoffman (Mumbles), Dick Van Dyke (D.A. Fletcher), James Caan (Spaldoni) and, of course, the Academy Award nominated Al Pacino (Big Boy Caprice). But opening the iris a bit more and we see cameos by Estelle Parsons (Mrs. Trueheart), Michael J. Pollard (Bug Bailey), Henry Silva (Influence), Kathy Bates (Mrs. Green) and Catherine O’Hara (Texie Garcia).
Whew! I don’t know of anyone else who could have brought together that many high-quality people (including Hoffman and Pacino for the one and only time - they apparently don’t like each other) other than Beatty. And he uses them to their fullest. Beatty himself gives a surprisingly solid performance as the law-and-order Tracy, not watering him down at all. Madonna slinks across the screen in one of those just-an-aspect-of-her-real-personality roles at which she excels. Patinkin is great as the put-upon 88 Keys, a role that let’s him show off his acting and singing skills to great effect. Hoffman steals just about every scene he’s in, despite the miniscule size of his role.
But I don’t want you to think that Beatty just populated the film with friends and associates. Several key roles went to relative unknowns. Glenne Headly is the perfect Tess Trueheart. She is able to portray Tess’ traditional dedication, yet give her a bit more steel than the comic did. And she makes Tess appealing enough to see why Tracy is so stuck on her that he wouldn’t even consider Breathless. Charlie Korsmo does a great job as The Kid (a.k.a. Dick Tracy, Jr.), a role that required an awful lot of screentime and he never wilts under the spotlight. And on the villain side, both Ed O’Ross (Itchy) and William Forsythe (Flattop) make the most of their opportunities.
Al Pacino, of course, gives the breakout performance of the film (as the Academy recognized, nominating him for Best Supporting Actor). I was at the 1990 Chicago Comicon where both Max Allan Collins (author of the novelization and contemorary Dick Tracy strip writer) and Len Wein (writer of the comic book adaptation) stated that they threw out huge chunks of Big Boy’s dialogue (such as “If you aren’t for the people, you can’t buy the people - Lincoln.”) because it was so silly. They both regretted it when they watched the finished film and saw how Pacino made that dialogue work so well.
There is an abumdance of music in Dick Tracy. * The showcase songs were written by Stephen Sondheim including those sung by Madonna (with “Sooner or Later” winning Oscar) and the under-appreciated “Live Alone and Like It” for Mel Tormé. In addition, there were several songs used primarily in the background written or co-written by Andy Paley recorded by the likes of Al Jarreau, Jerry Lee Lewis and k.d. lang. All of the songs evoked the general 1930s feel of the film and add to the overall atmosphere.
Then there’s the score by Danny Elfman. Now, Elfman can be quite diverse, but does have a tendency to fall into habit when covering similar material. I can’t imagine watching the opening credits to Spider-Man and not thinking “that’s Danny Elfman”. It’s the same way with Dick Tracy. Of course, he was brought in almost literally at the last minute and had just completed work on the previous year’s iconic Batman score. So he can hardly be fully blamed for repeating himself somewhat. It’s a good score, but definitely not one of his best. To me, it kind of smells of corporate interference, as if they felt Dick Tracy needed Elfman to ride on Batman’s coattails.
As for the film’s fidelity to the source material, well, it’s a mixed bag. On the one hand, the portrayals of most of the characters are fairly accurate. Within the roles they are assigned, they act pretty close to the way the original characters would have. The problem stems from the fact that very few of the villain characters ever met each other, let alone established a hierarchy as represented on screen. Even the good guys are affected, as the film prtrays Tracy being supported by both Pat Patton and Sam Catchem, when Catchem didn’t really arrive until Pat replaced Chief Brandon. * But, from a purist standpoint, this can be forgiven. Beatty was so enamored of the Tracy villains, he just wanted to fill the movie with as many as he could, in case he never got another chance.
In case you hadn’t guessed, I’m quite fond of Dick Tracy. A wonderful throwback to classic comic-based movies, with none of the grim darkness that was already taking over the genre, it’s a pity that it isn’t better remembered. (It was a hit, after all.) For a while there, it even competed with Heaven Can Wait as my favorite Beatty film. (Charles Grodin was the deciding factor.) It’s a great production, with a unique, still unmatched look, great performances and songs and a feel good vibe. I wish more comic adaptations would take a cue from Dick Tracy and embrace the fun side of the genre, not just the darkness.
* There were three albums released in conjunction with Dick Tracy. Madonna released I’m Breathless, which featured her songs from the film as well as others, there was a “soundtrack” album with the Paley material and music “inspired” by the film (like a rap by Ice-T) and there was Elfman’s score.
** Yes, I can geek out on Dick Tracy, too.