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| River Phoenix with director Sidney Lumet |
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| River Phoenix with Martha Plimpton |
RUNNING ON EMPTY B USA (116 mi) 1988 d: Sidney Lumet
I’ve done three movies, Daniel, Running on Empty, and Family Business, that are thematically the same thing—the cost that others pay for one’s passions—and I only recognized this afterwards…. Any deep emotional commitment on the part of the parents is going to cost something… not just to the parents but also almost always to the children. —Sidney Lumet
A film that takes us back to the fallout from the Vietnam War of the 60’s, revealing the ominous implications still reverberating decades later from the aftermath of that momentous event, recalling the paranoia of 70’s films, yet made a decade later, with the passage of time having a decidedly toned down effect on the subject matter, which is fictitiously portrayed. Largely shaped by the Great Depression, Lumet began his career at the height of McCarthyism, brought up in New York City with a Jewish, left-wing background, claiming there’s no real left-wing in America anymore, like there is in Europe, so political ramifications may be something he intrinsically understands, as it’s in his blood. What’s unique about the 60’s generation is the tireless effort extended to bring about the end of the Vietnam War, with kids going against their parent’s generation, causing plenty of family strife, but this was largely a young person’s crusade that successfully ended the war, something unprecedented in American history, yet with Nixon re-elected with his racistly repressive law and order campaign, still targeting all the 60’s radicals, it wasn’t the result they wanted, so they grew weary and exhausted and simply ran out of gas, thus, the title, something they never recovered from, abandoning earlier alliances with blacks and chucking their ideals for monetary gain, with many of those same kids growing up and voting for Reagan. Revisiting the era of the Weather Underground, a radical left-wing offshoot of the Students for a Democratic Society in the 60’s, a student activist counterculture movement that attempted to stop the war in Vietnam, which splintered from a disagreement in tactics, with the radically inspired Weather Undergound taking on a targeted bombing campaign meant to disrupt the machinations of the war effort, committing strategic acts of sabotage against the government by carrying out bombings of the United States Capitol, the Pentagon, the State Department, Bank of America, Army bases, as well as the New York City police department, yet slowly disbanded by the mid 70’s. By the mid 80’s, they were essentially history, yet several fugitives from justice were able to successfully hide themselves for decades under assumed identities, eventually emerging quietly by turning themselves in, often pleading to lesser charges, as the government’s case against them was compromised by the 1971 exposure of the FBI’s questionable and even unlawful methods of domestic surveillance under the COINTELPRO program, which quickly evolved from a legitimate effort to protect the national security from foreign threats of Communism into an effort to suppress a wide range of domestic activism (that included Martin Luther King and other Civil Rights leaders) through an array of dirty tricks, including illegal wiretaps, warrantless searches, planted media lies, and much more. Recalling earlier films like Hal Ashby’s COMING HOME (1978), John Sayle’s RETURN OF THE SECAUSCUS SEVEN (1980), Lawrence Kasdan’s THE BIG CHILL (1983), or Oliver Stone’s PLATOON (1986), and a latter crop of Bill Siegel’s THE WEATHER UNDERGROUND (2002), Robert Redford’s The Company You Keep (2013), or Kelly Reichardt’s Night Moves (2013), most of it is watered down revisionism that screws up 60’s politics, often looking back nostalgically with a sense of guilt, while regretting past mistakes. An extension of his earlier film DANIEL (1983), which examines the generational consequences of the Rosenberg spy trial (The Rosenberg Case), resulting in the execution of both parents, specifically exploring the trauma suffered by the children, where the sins of the parents are hoisted upon the backs of the children, a strong burden to carry, where Lumet’s primary interest is not the politics, but the emotional costs, while in this film crimes of consciousness and acts of terror are largely indistinguishable in the eyes of the law, where an overriding theme is that actions, no matter how nobly intended, have consequences. The obvious reference is Bill Ayers and Bernadette Dohrn, leaders of the Weather Underground, who went into hiding for ten years before surrendering to authorities in 1980. Making no apologies for their activism to bring about the end of the war, likewise no apology was ever offered by the United States government to the country of Vietnam, dropping nearly 400,000 tons of napalm, an incendiary chemical compound that burns at 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit, literally burning people alive, spraying 19.5 million gallons of Agent Orange at twenty times the recommended dosage, containing a toxic chemical contaminant linked to cancers, diabetes, birth defects, and other disabilities, remaining in the soil for decades, affecting three million Vietnamese (7% of the population), causing birth defects in 150,000 children, with millions still affected, not to mention other atrocities committed. The film’s inciting event, the bombing of a napalm laboratory that blinded and paralyzed a janitor, echoes the infamous Sterling Hall bombing of August 24, 1970 (When bomb tore through Sterling Hall 50 years ago, he was ...), where radicals attempted to shut down an Army Math Research Center on the campus of the University of Wisconsin-Madison, but instead killed a university physics researcher, Robert Fassnacht, a postdoctoral researcher conducting physics experiments on superconductivity, completely destroying the physics lab, with three other grad students suffering serious injuries, while a night watchman suffered memory impairment and permanent loss of some hearing and vision.
No reference to any actual event ever occurs, while the title is appropriated from the Jackson Browne song (notoriously absent from the movie and the credits), a huge hit in 1978, also featured prominently in FORREST GUMP (1994), with a controversial history as well, due to its unauthorized use by Senator John McCain and the Republican Party in a controversial ad targeting Presidential nominee Barack Obama in 2008, forcing Browne to sue, eventually settling out of court for an unnamed sum, with the Republican Party apologizing afterwards. Screenwriter Naomi Foner (mother of Jake and Maggie Gyllenhaal) was nominated for an Oscar, yet acknowledged making changes at the behest of Lorimar Productions, a subsidiary of Warner Brothers, worried about controversial content, drawing from personal experiences of her radical friends, including a classmate at Columbia University who went underground in 1969 and resurfaced in the 80’s, sharing with Foner the hardships she faced in hiding while trying to raise her two children, as noted in a Vanity Fair article, THE WEATHER OVERGROUND | Vanity Fair | October 1988, while a nearly identical plot is also attributed to acclaimed Berlin filmmaker Christian Petzold in THE STATE I AM IN (2000). The film is listed at #10 on Roger Ebert’s Top Ten from 1988, Roger Ebert: 1967-2006, though largely missing from other lists, not nearly as pivotal as many of his other films like 12 ANGRY MEN (1957), LONG DAY’S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT (1962), SERPICO (1973), Dog Day Afternoon (1975), Network (1976), The Verdict (1982), and Before the Devil Knows You're Dead (2007). The biggest misstep is the insipid music by New Jersey guitarist Tony Mottola that feels hijacked from some limp romance drama, never once capturing the actual feel of the movie, which turns into a family relationship drama, with a budding romance at the center. While some may view this family as terrorists, it goes to great lengths to create a family with moral values and strong ties to love, where they genuinely relate to one another, making substantial sacrifices for deeply held principles, moving every few months, constantly assuming new names and identities, relying upon an underground network for money, cheap housing, and phony documents. Rarely do you ever see movies with children on the run, yet the level of domesticity that the family has achieved is mirrored in the camera work, shot by British cinematographer Gerry Fisher in a decidedly low-key style, like a 1950’s Playhouse 90 domestic drama (live television, several episodes directed by Lumet). At the outset of the film, the family quickly relocates to another city when it becomes apparent the FBI is watching their house, soon finding themselves in the fictional town of Waterford, New Jersey. Artie and Annie Pope, Judd Hirsch and Christine Lahti, are the radical couple on the run with two sons, 17-year old Danny, River Phoenix, the older brother of Joaquin in his only Oscar-nominated performance, starring later in Gus van Sant’s My Own Private Idaho (1991) before his untimely death two years later at the age of 23, and ten-year old Harry (Jonas Abry). The film is largely seen through Danny’s eyes, exhibiting a mixture of shyness and self-assurance, seriously introverted because his parents have cut him off from the rest of the world, much like the early childhood of Phoenix, part of a controversial Christian religious cult known as the Children of God, emphasizing unlimited sex with no restrictions, moving from Venezuela to Mexico to Puerto Rico to spread the word. Unable to draw attention to himself, he quickly stands out to his music teacher, Mr. Phillips (Ed Crowley), because of his impressive (and overly idealized) talent on the piano, playing Beethoven by heart, Running on Empty, Beethoven Pathétique YouTube (1:15), easily separating him from other students who are completely hooked on the MTV era of Madonna and pop music videos. Both parents quickly find jobs, where the transition seems relatively unforced until the school inquires about prior transcripts, which are strangely missing. Normally this would be no big deal, as they never stay long enough at a single location, but Danny is at the age where he needs to start applying for college, where transcripts are mandatory. Given access to his teacher’s home to play the piano, he’s pleasantly surprised when a same age daughter takes an interest, Lorna, Martha Plimpton, the real-life girlfriend of Phoenix at the time, having met on the set of Peter Weir’s THE MOSQUITO COAST (1986). Lorna’s quirky personality registers with a Bob Marley poster on the inside of her bedroom door, a Charlie Chaplin poster taking up the entirety of her closet door, while inside is a poster of James Dean from Rebel Without a Cause (1955), where she has a unique collection of hats hanging from a rack, one of which grabs Danny’s attention, a boater straw hat reminiscent of Silent film stars Buster Keaton or Harold Lloyd, but also the musicals of Fred Astaire and Maurice Chevalier, playfully trying it on, even wearing it out of the house, giving him something of hers to think about. Their budding romance makes this a coming-of-age movie, with romantic walks through the woods and along a lake, continually keeping his distance, never allowing himself to get too emotionally attached, which eventually turns her off, thinking this guy really doesn’t care, getting pissed off, finally forced to confess his secrets, creating something of an emotional steamrolling effect.
A pop visit from an old friend causes ripples, Gus, L.M. Kit Carson, something of a counterculture artist, a co-director of Dennis Hopper’s The American Dreamer (1971) and co-writer of Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas (1984), yet here he appears as a connection to their radical past, showing romantic inclinations towards Annie that she quickly deflects before trying to recruit Artie for a bank robbery, still holding onto his youthful revolutionary ideals, suggesting what they’re doing is too safe and comfortable, with Artie going apoplectic afterwards, refusing to have anything to do with guns, defiantly repulsed by the idea, angrily declaring “Guns aren’t what we’re about.” Danny’s interest in his parent’s welfare is significant, often hidden and isolated from the rest of the family, yet still supportive during troubled times, where all they’ve got is each other, which probably means more to his parents, as they’re the ones responsible for the predicament they’re in. While the parents are openly conscientious, they even leave a pet dog behind during one of their moves, a disturbing image for animal lovers, actually having more of an impact than the headlines revealing Gus was shot and killed in a bank robbery escape, the living embodiment of what can go wrong with radical ideals, certainly putting a punctuation point on the end of his dreams, suggesting there are good radicals and bad ones. Afterwards, Artie gets the urge to pack it in and head for another destination, coming across as a bit of an ass, overly regimented and authoritative, patriarchal, continually barking out orders, where his one-note character isn’t really developed, lacking the nuance and complexity of Annie, who is more comforting and understanding of what her kids must be going through, where you can grow exhausted from all the running, acknowledging at one point, “What are we doing to these kids? They’ve been running their whole lives like criminals, and they didn’t do anything.” Danny, in particular, feels overwhelmed by the decision, even defiantly so, where his need to grow and break free from the family’s stranglehold becomes the central drama, wanting to pursue his own dreams, thrive in a romance, with the faint possibility of something lurking beyond if they don’t screw it up, where this inner dilemma was similarly explored in Siân Heder’s Academy Award winning CODA (2021), with the deaf community replacing the underground, a confining world of silence where the unique talent of one family member offers the promise of something more, something they never anticipated. Mr. Phillips is so enamored with Danny’s playing that he encourages him to apply for Julliard, offering him a stellar letter of recommendation, but it keeps getting back to his earlier school transcripts, leaving him in a precarious position, as he doesn’t really want to abandon his family. Lorna quickly sees through the family dilemma, emphasizing Danny has nothing to do with it, “Why do you have to carry the burden of someone else’s life?” The failures of the radical left and 60’s counterculture movement are never really addressed, as there was a unique multi-racial coalition where privileged white college students and Black Panthers were mingling together sharing a common cause, creating something of a cultural revelation, while the promised revolution never happened. Instead the film emphasizes family above politics, where any earlier propensity for violence is thoroughly discouraged, countered by a communal BIG CHILL dance sequence, The Big Chill (1983) - Dancing in the Kitchen Scene (6/10) (1:48), set to a James Taylor song, "Fire and Rain" Birthday Dance Scene - Running on Empty ... (1:53), all captured in a single take, acting as an anthem and memorial tribute for so much from that era which has been lost or forgotten. This film was made more than 30-years ago, when ramifications of the Vietnam era were still at the forefront of everyone’s minds (the devastation of the AIDS crisis was about to take its place in terms of having a generational impact), but looking back today, very little is known about the turbulent times of the 60’s, as books and movies serving as eloquent time capsules simply do not do it justice. Yet it wouldn’t be a Sidney Lumet movie if there weren’t several standout emotional scenes, like Annie discovering Danny already auditioned for Julliard, playing Mozart’s Fantasia, K. 475, Running on Empty - Danny auditions for Julliard -Who did you ... YouTube (2:00), so she breaks her cover and cautiously meets her father who she hasn’t seen in 15 years (Steven Hill) for a heartrending reunion in a restaurant, an emotionally devastating scene that traverses plenty of territory in a short period of time, leaving both something of a trainwreck afterwards, one of the most poignantly affecting scenes ever filmed by Lumet, while Danny and Lorna have an equally wrenching, tearjerker moment. While Christine Lahti is superb, convincing performances by River Phoenix and Martha Plimpton are the real stand-outs, given greater dramatic extension than the adults, covering up for the movie’s deficiencies, refusing to explore what was essential about the times, like why people would be willing to take such drastic measures, instead becoming a smaller character study that has a way of sneaking up on you, reminding us of how much we truly miss the loss of River Phoenix. That alone is reason to see the film.
