The Conversation

Say you're a visionary director who's just made one of the greatest films in American history. You're working on the sequel, another classic, and you've got a little time on your hands. What do you do? How about making a low-key suspense film with almost no cast and a few locations?

That movie is "The Conversation," Francis Ford Coppola's minor masterpiece. The wispy plot revolves around Harry Caul (Gene Hackman), a surveillance expert hired to record a conversation between two people who appear to be having an affair. Their talk seems to indicate that they are in danger. Harry, who has already seen his work lead to three killings, attempts to intervene, with nasty consequences.

The paradox of the film is that Harry is the nation's top surveillance man, yet he fiercely guards his own private life, refusing even to give out his phone number. His hypocrisy and just desserts are the stuff of Hitchcock.

Coppola's direction is precise yet effortless; here is a master at the top of his game. The camerawork and soundtrack help to elevate what could have been merely a clever little film. Hackman is just right for the stolid and stoic role of Harry.

The one problem with the film is its glacial pacing. Do we really need to see Harry fiddling with his recording equipment before playing back the tapes? Here is yet another Hollywood film that would have been cut down to 90 minutes in the hands of a European director (including Hitchcock, a Brit).

Nonetheless, "The Conversation" is a historically significant work. It's a film from one of America's greatest directors during his relatively brief peak. It also leads one to wonder how Coppola's career could have turned out if he chose a different path. He could have made three or four films like "The Conversation" in the time it took him to make "Apocalypse Now," without suffering the creative burnout and collapse which that debacle wrought.