Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Francis Ford Coppola
Starring: Frederic Forrest, Teri Garr, Raul Julia, Nastassja
Kinski, Harry Dean Stanton, Lainie Kazan
After the gruelling jungle shoot of Apocalypse Now, it's no wonder Francis Ford Coppola decided he wanted to work
indoors for his next production. Pumping the millions he had made from
his highly successful run of films in the 1970s into his Zoetrope
studios, Coppola's plan was to establish Zoetrope as an alternative to
the major Hollywood studios, a place where artists with uncommercial
visions could bring their projects to fruition free from the restrictive
conditions of the mainstream market. The dream was deflated by the
disastrous box office performance of his 1982 film,
One from the Heart, which made less than a million dollars from a $26 million
budget.
That may seem like an excessive sum for what on paper is a rather
intimate romantic drama set in a handful of locations, but Coppola
wasn't simply making his next film, he was reinventing the wheel. For
better or worse, several of the working methods Hollywood routinely
employs today were pioneered by Coppola on this production. "Pre-vis,"
the concept of working out scenes prior to shooting with simple video
enactments, was a major part of the process, allowing Coppola to have a
rough cut of his movie before a single frame of film was shot. Coppola
heavily employed the use of computers in the film's editing,
facilitating the elaborate transitions and onscreen effects that give
the movie its distinctive flavour.
The result is a film that still captivates with its visual audacity.
For the few cinemagoers who saw One from the Heart on its
1982 release it must have been akin to seeing a new film from Griffith,
Murnau or Potemkin in the 1920s. Ironically for a movie that
incorporates music and lyrics so heavily into its narrative,
One from the Heart has more in common with a product of
the silent era than with its '80s contemporaries. Like many great silent
movies it's a simple tale of love, lust and infidelity brought to life
by its dazzling images.
Taking place over the 4th of July in Las Vegas, the film is centred on
Hank (Frederic Forrest) and Frannie (Teri Garr), a couple
who met five years prior on America's national holiday. To celebrate the
anniversary they exchange gifts. Frannie, who works in a travel agents,
surprises Hank with a pair of tickets to Bora Bora. Hank gifts Frannie
the deed to their currently rented home. Both gifts are rejected. Hank
doesn't want to travel, as he'd rather spend the money on their home,
which he hopes to fill with children some day. Frannie isn't interested
in settling down, at least not until she's explored the world.
The ensuing bickering leads Hank and Frannie to separate and head
downtown into the brightly lit Vegas night. Frannie is seduced by Ray
(Raul Julia), a Pepe Le Pew-like lothario who works as a waiter
but claims to be a singer waiting for that big break. Hank sweeps circus
performer Leila (Nastassja Kinski) off her feet.
The trouble with One from the Heart is that we don't care
whether Hank and Frannie get back together after their respective nights
of infidelity. Nothing about their thinly sketched relationship suggests
they belong together. Rather they seem to make each other miserable.
That they so willingly jump in the sack with the first people that make
googly eyes at them suggests this is not a romance for the ages. If we
give up on Hank and Frannie we might root for their temporary flings to
become something more, but they're clearly established on superficial
grounds. Frannie would probably have fun with Ray for a week or two, but
he'd likely get bored with her soon after. Leila is such an adorable
manic pixie dream girl that we don't want her to settle for the
unlikeable Hank.
In the original 1982 cut we learn that Hank has spent not only his own
money but also Frannie's in purchasing the deed to their house without
consulting his partner. Coppola's new cut, which is 12 minutes shorter,
excises this detail, presumably in the hope it will make us a little
more sympathetic towards Hank. It doesn't. This is largely down to the
miscasting of Forrest, who lacks the vulnerability the role requires. As
played by Forrest, Hank seems like a man who might have been attractive
in the past but whose current embittered state makes him decidedly
unappealing, so it's far too great a leap for us to believe he could
ensnare Leila, who as embodied by Kinski is one of the most beautiful
women to appear on screen in any era. We can sympathise with Frannie
because Garr plays the part with a vulnerable charm that suggests she
just needs some time away from Hank, which is understandable as he's
such a boor. Forrest however plays Hank's unlikely seduction of Leila as
an act of revenge, and he carries the threat of misogynistic violence on
his taut shoulders.
All that criticism might make One from the Heart seem
like a dud, and the critics and audiences of 1982 certainly thought so.
But they couldn't see the forest for the Vegas neon. It's remarkable to
look back at those reviews and see how thoroughly unimpressed critics
were by the film's visuals, which are arguably even more eye-popping
today in our era of muddy images and flat digital cinematography.
Coppola's decision to relocate the story from screenwriter
Armyan Bernstein's original Chicago setting to Vegas is an
inspired move. If you've ever been to Vegas you'll have experienced that
odd feeling that you're always indoors, as though the city itself is
housed in a sound stage. We only see a few square metres of the famous
strip, but Coppola and his ingenious crew bring it to life in magical
fashion. The unreality of the backdrop makes the poorly defined human
characters seem more alive in contrast.
The score, which incorporates songs by Tom Waits performed by
the songwriter and Crystal Gayle, breaks that unwritten rule that
says non-diegetic songs should refrain from commenting on what's
happening onscreen. We're so wrapped up in the visuals however that we
don't pay attention to the lyrics, so the effect is similar to how Alan
Rudolph employed the songs of Alberta Hunter, Teddy Pendergrass and
Marianne Faithfull in Remember My Name, Choose Me and Trouble in Mind, adding thematic texture and emotion to the film rather than direct
commentary.
One from the Heart only features one real musical number
- in which Ray sweeps Frannie off her feet with a tango that begins in
an abandoned piano bar and makes its way out onto a teeming strip - but
it's a banger. Choreographed by Gene Kelly and
Kenny Ortega, the sequence sees Julia move with Astaire-like
grace while Garr's chorus girl legs work overtime. It's one of the
standout musical numbers of the post classic Hollywood era.
It's difficult to see the average 2024 viewer being any more receptive
of One from the Heart than their 1982 counterparts, and
Forrest's Hank will likely prove even more unappealing today despite the
efforts of Coppola's cutting blade. But anyone with an appreciation for
groundbreaking filmmaking will find value in this glimpse of an exciting
future for American cinema that sadly never quite came to pass. The
film's influence can be seen in many of today's auteurs, from the
dollhouse aesthetic of Wes Anderson to Denis Villeneuve, who referenced
a memorable shot here in
Blade Runner 2049. One from the Heart may have failed to endure, but it
continues to inspire.
