I've seen Dog Day Afternoon about five times now, and each time without fail I'm squirming with unease about 5 minutes into it. That's not only the sign of a suspenseful movie, but it says a lot about how easy it is to get involved in the characters and the situation itself.
The film opens with an Elton John tune that ostensibly could foreshadow the orientation of its lead character. From this point onward, there is no notable score (Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds comes to mind), but this decision has no impact on the tension of the plot. In fact, it heightens its realism because it is based on a true story. It all takes place one balmy summer afternoon in New York City, when three men attempt to rob a bank. One of them has previously worked in a bank, and they seem to have things figured out. Unfortunately, one of them chickens out at the get-go, and somehow the police are tipped off of the attempted heist. Suddenly the remaining two are left in a situation with a battalion of female hostages and a bank devoid of money (they'd just missed the security truck which had emptied the vaults). Murphy's Law seems determined to prevail.
Dog Day Afternoon's commentary on the media is still relevant twenty-seven years later. One need only think of O.J.'s white Bronco or America's Most Wanted to realize we as a society are a voyeur culture, still captivated by the antics of those who attempt to shake the law. In one scene, a TV station interviews a would-be thief over the phone from within the bank. If CNN could, they'd do the same thing today -- the only difference being they wouldn't hang up on the criminal at the hint of a cuss word.
Al Pacino's career as a leading man started off as a mobster's son, and he has since played an undercover narcotics cop, a blind war veteran, a line order cook, and the Devil. Better than all of the aforementioned parts though, is his turn here as Sonny, a gay bank robber at the end of his rope. The actor takes a lot of chances in his portrayal and they all pay off. Take a scene late in the film, for example, when he communicates with his lover Leon, played by Chris Sarandon. Sonny's reason for robbing the bank has become known -- he needed money to pay for Leon's sex change operation -- and now he is forced to say goodbye forever to the person he did it all for in the first place. Pacino has to be strict and unrevealing because he is being monitored by the police, but delicate to the person he loves, all the while never resorting to weeping for effect. It's a fantastic piece of acting. A lot of the other actors strike more of a stereotypical note, such as Charles Durning as the obese police detective and John Cazale as the manic sidekick partner about to snap at any second.
But after a while you don't even think about stereotypes or anything else that could be deemed merely common about Dog Day Afternoon. Sidney Lumet's expert direction comes from making each character important -- we feel we know how each person feels about this scenario that keeps changing its dynamics by the hour. One moment we sympathize with Sonny, who as the head organizer is never able to maintain control (only the illusion of it), the next we sympathize with the employees held hostage, because we are suddenly aware they too have families that are worried about them.
There's a scene early in the film where Sonny, the Vietnam veteran who has probably seen it all, can't seem to get his own rifle out of the flower giftbox it's concealed in. It's certainly a funny moment, but oddly enough, it also triggers an anxiety -- you kind of hope he gets it out of the box without incident. I know I often complain about movies that glamourize criminals or shady characters, but Sonny has to be an exception to the rule. He is a clumsy family man, a confused man who needs money, and, if you look at the way he treats everyone around him (including the cops), he's actually a good person deep down who has just happened to make a colossal, irreversible mistake.
