Satellite, re-runs, digital, syndication, infomercials, movies of the week, remote control attention span. Ours is a television generation and the movie Network is among the best features about the small screen ever made. Unfortunately, over the years the actual satire elements themselves have gotten watered down due to increasing de-sensitization to the subject matter we are exposed to every day on the boob tube.
Last night I watched Network for the third time. When I first saw it a few years ago, I thought it was quite good. The second time I saw it, I thought it was merely good. Now I think it's just okay. It's kind of like the gradual decline of UBS's ratings. I can't quite pinpoint why the interest is tapering off, but there are definitely signs of a downward trend. I think a lot of it has to do with the difficult combination of a choppy plot with lengthy character speeches. There isn't a lot of dialogue to work with. It's a lot of opinion, tirades, and editorials mixed in with daily life and the result is sometimes as canned and phony as a studio audience's laugh track.
There are basically two movies battling for plot supremacy here. The first involves the disillusioned news broadcaster Howard Beale (Peter Finch) and his fully televised descent into madness, the other involves his program director Diana Christensen (Faye Dunaway) and her affair with broadcasting legend Max Schumacher (William Holden). I prefer the latter if only because their arguments are intelligent and, in places, as electrifying as David Mamet's. I find Finch's performance not very convincing, and Dunaway's motor-mouth performance far from challenging. Holden is the key to the film's centre as a refreshingly clear-headed man working in a medium that can sometimes take complete possession of your faculties. Surprisingly, another fine performance comes from Ned Beatty as the frustrated CEO of the station. His one scene with Finch where he methodically preaches about currency as if it were oxygen is proof that Beatty can offer more dramatic oomph than you might think.
Network was made in 1976 and this much is painfully obvious when the characters constantly refer to Archie Bunker, the Bionic Man, Mary Tyler Moore, and even Little House on the Prairie. Yet it must have been very current for its time, and there are some moments of insight among the relative staleness. Director Sidney Lumet made a better satire about media manipulation with Dog Day Afternoon, and I think a big reason why Lumet sometimes misses the mark here because of Paddy Chayefsky's didactic screenplay. If the object is to try to show the absurdity of network politics, then less is more. Here the bombardment of character speeches weighs down the flow a little too much.
The film's biggest faux pas lies in its subplot about an extremist group that is offered its own television show. A scene where each of the radicals totes a machine gun while holding their contractual clauses in the other hand is more inexplicably bizarre than satirical, and all of the performances are too over-the-top to be convincing. There is also a cheating moment at the very end of the picture, when Finch's fate has been sealed by a decision made by Dunaway and the frantic Robert Duvall. Yes, TV is a dog-eat-dog environment, but screenwriter Chayefsky takes an easy way out. These personalities, whom he has invested so much energy into, may be devoid of emotion and tact, but the actions they take in the end betray all of the character work that has come beforehand.
Still, Network plays itself out with ironic jabs and a unique, sassy flair. The frantic newsroom environment especially makes for interesting viewing. Whenever a movie this smug, condescending and bold comes along, it incites discussion and thought. In this regard, it is a modern classic that plays well at first but loses a few shares after several reruns.
