Warren Beatty's vainglorious attempt to join epic filmmakers with this plodding historical romantic melodrama back dropped by the Russian Revolution is filled with fragments from Lawrence, Zhivago and some Bonnie and Clyde but like former mentor Arthur Penn he directs with a leaden hand as Reds lumbers along repeating itself for over three and a half hours. There is decent two hour film* in Reds but the extra ninety minutes tacked on serves little purpose beyond Beatty the artist identifying with John Reed the swashbuckling newspaper man who marched to the tune of his own drum crusading for the masses.
American Journalist John Reed (Ten Days that Shook the World) is passionate about two things in life, Socialism and Louise Bryant his feminist paramour. Torn between maintaining domestic bliss and turning the world into a Socialist paradise Reed attempts to juggle the two and in spite of being betrayed by both at various times (Louise has an affair with Eugene O'Neill and Bolshevik big shot Zinoeiv distorts his translated words the principled Reed refuses to let either dream die.
With Vittorio Storaro (The Conformist, Godfather) lensing, Richard Sylbert (Chinatown, the Fortune) in charge of production design and Shirley Russell's (Women in Love) subdued (for her) costuming Reds has an excellent period look. The power of director Beatty's mise en scene remains inconsistent however as he dilutes the film's impact with an excessive amount of chaotic debates among party members and squabbles between the two stars along with a few kiss and make up silhouettes of the two humping. Moderation in all these areas would have clearly removed some of the film's lethargy but Beatty's attempts to balance a remarkable historical event with a romantic interest that has Beatty the actor's same stuttering seductive charm in play from a previous fantasy film (Heaven Can Wait) and a film based in Beverly Hills (Shampoo) on the face of it alone lacks gravitas. It's the same boyish love sick puppy with the silent pained expressions we get in the two confections but we're dealing with the real world in turmoil and a lot of time could be saved if they took Rick's Casablanca speech to heart.
As Louise Bryant Diane Keaton spends most of the film in a state of frustration and disappointment both personally and professionally and in the incapable hands of the limited Keaton it is one long suffering sulk to behold as Beatty peppers us with dozens of ambiguous reaction shots of her in awe and anger with the mercurial Reed. Jack Nicholson's O'Neill is laid back and so much more interesting than the red rousing Reed you almost wish the camera would follow him around for the rest of the film. Novelist Jerzy Kosinski as Zinoeiv is surprisingly effective and Maureen Stapleton brings dignity and radical rational to the role of Emma Goldman.
Beatty's most imaginative move is to intersperse the film with testimony from witnesses of the era and acquaintances of the two but here too he errs by not identifying them individually and most of the anecdotes do little to flesh Reed and Bryant out at all.
One could make the argument that given Beatty's status in Hollywood in 1980 this epic film about an audacious journalist who blazed his own path mirrored Beatty's trail blazing part in bringing about Hollywood's last golden age with Bonnie and Clyde. It's certainly one of the reasons why Reds fails as epic. David Lean may sympathize with Lawrence and Zhivago but he keeps his distance. Beatty's Reed is Beatty's alter ego and the camera seldom leaves his face except for Louise's wide eyed admiration of him and conflict over him. Instead of size scope and larger than life we get the socially conscious Bickersons, something that would translate just as well on a theater stage. At best Reds is very lean Lean.
* Actually Jaques Feyder's 1937 Knight without Armor with Robert Donat and Marlene Dietrich in similar period and setting is that film. Surpassing Reds in nearly every department and devoid of its heavy handed pretense it makes some sharp observations about the chaotic struggle between the Reds and the Whites with Feyder displaying a more imaginative command of composition and Dietrich a far more convincing Countess on the run than Keaton's pipsqueak feminist.
American Journalist John Reed (Ten Days that Shook the World) is passionate about two things in life, Socialism and Louise Bryant his feminist paramour. Torn between maintaining domestic bliss and turning the world into a Socialist paradise Reed attempts to juggle the two and in spite of being betrayed by both at various times (Louise has an affair with Eugene O'Neill and Bolshevik big shot Zinoeiv distorts his translated words the principled Reed refuses to let either dream die.
With Vittorio Storaro (The Conformist, Godfather) lensing, Richard Sylbert (Chinatown, the Fortune) in charge of production design and Shirley Russell's (Women in Love) subdued (for her) costuming Reds has an excellent period look. The power of director Beatty's mise en scene remains inconsistent however as he dilutes the film's impact with an excessive amount of chaotic debates among party members and squabbles between the two stars along with a few kiss and make up silhouettes of the two humping. Moderation in all these areas would have clearly removed some of the film's lethargy but Beatty's attempts to balance a remarkable historical event with a romantic interest that has Beatty the actor's same stuttering seductive charm in play from a previous fantasy film (Heaven Can Wait) and a film based in Beverly Hills (Shampoo) on the face of it alone lacks gravitas. It's the same boyish love sick puppy with the silent pained expressions we get in the two confections but we're dealing with the real world in turmoil and a lot of time could be saved if they took Rick's Casablanca speech to heart.
As Louise Bryant Diane Keaton spends most of the film in a state of frustration and disappointment both personally and professionally and in the incapable hands of the limited Keaton it is one long suffering sulk to behold as Beatty peppers us with dozens of ambiguous reaction shots of her in awe and anger with the mercurial Reed. Jack Nicholson's O'Neill is laid back and so much more interesting than the red rousing Reed you almost wish the camera would follow him around for the rest of the film. Novelist Jerzy Kosinski as Zinoeiv is surprisingly effective and Maureen Stapleton brings dignity and radical rational to the role of Emma Goldman.
Beatty's most imaginative move is to intersperse the film with testimony from witnesses of the era and acquaintances of the two but here too he errs by not identifying them individually and most of the anecdotes do little to flesh Reed and Bryant out at all.
One could make the argument that given Beatty's status in Hollywood in 1980 this epic film about an audacious journalist who blazed his own path mirrored Beatty's trail blazing part in bringing about Hollywood's last golden age with Bonnie and Clyde. It's certainly one of the reasons why Reds fails as epic. David Lean may sympathize with Lawrence and Zhivago but he keeps his distance. Beatty's Reed is Beatty's alter ego and the camera seldom leaves his face except for Louise's wide eyed admiration of him and conflict over him. Instead of size scope and larger than life we get the socially conscious Bickersons, something that would translate just as well on a theater stage. At best Reds is very lean Lean.
* Actually Jaques Feyder's 1937 Knight without Armor with Robert Donat and Marlene Dietrich in similar period and setting is that film. Surpassing Reds in nearly every department and devoid of its heavy handed pretense it makes some sharp observations about the chaotic struggle between the Reds and the Whites with Feyder displaying a more imaginative command of composition and Dietrich a far more convincing Countess on the run than Keaton's pipsqueak feminist.