Jack Nicholson deserves a lion's share of the credit for bringing the belated sequel to Roman Polanski's 'Chinatown' to the big screen, putting heroic effort into a project that never had much hope of matching the original. Comparison is of course always the cheapest form of criticism, but it's hard not to notice the holes in a cast substituting Harvey Keitel and Meg Tilly (an unconvincing femme fatale) for John Huston and Faye Dunaway, and Nicholson himself proves to be an only adequate director (under duress, to be sure).
Robert Towne's incredibly convoluted plot, involving oil swindles and real estate grabs in post-war Los Angeles, is only a shadow of his earlier, Oscar winning effort, with all the hard-boiled gumshoe narration added strictly for mood when it should have been used for clarification (viewers will sympathize with Jake Gittes when he's told, "you may think you know what's going on around here, but you don't.") Cameo roles (like oil magnate Richard Farnsworth) should have been major characters; some of the major characters (nymphomaniac widow Madeleine Stowe) should have been walk-ons; and the essential film noir villain (the other Jake, played by Keitel) ends up as a tragic hero.
The timing of the production was likewise all wrong, arriving after a decade of dumbed-down FX spectacles had made any notion of ambivalence all but extinct in a Hollywood drama. Perhaps the kindest thing to be said about the film is that it reinforces the classic status of the original.
Robert Towne's incredibly convoluted plot, involving oil swindles and real estate grabs in post-war Los Angeles, is only a shadow of his earlier, Oscar winning effort, with all the hard-boiled gumshoe narration added strictly for mood when it should have been used for clarification (viewers will sympathize with Jake Gittes when he's told, "you may think you know what's going on around here, but you don't.") Cameo roles (like oil magnate Richard Farnsworth) should have been major characters; some of the major characters (nymphomaniac widow Madeleine Stowe) should have been walk-ons; and the essential film noir villain (the other Jake, played by Keitel) ends up as a tragic hero.
The timing of the production was likewise all wrong, arriving after a decade of dumbed-down FX spectacles had made any notion of ambivalence all but extinct in a Hollywood drama. Perhaps the kindest thing to be said about the film is that it reinforces the classic status of the original.