Director: Jonathan Demme
Writer: Ron Nyswaner
Photography: Tak Fujimoto
Music: Howard Shore
Editor: Craig McKay
Cast: Tom Hanks, Denzel Washington, Jason Robards, Mary Steenburgen, Antonio Banderas, Ron Vawter, Robert Ridgely, Charles Napier, Joanne Woodward, Julius Erving, Ann Dowd, Roger Corman, Anna Deavere Smith, Bradley Whitford
Although it is obviously intended as big-ticket Oscar-bait, Philadelphia benefits from having Jonathan Demme as director, who finds ways to make it worth seeing. It is always eminently watchable for its entire running length. Demme is capable of pulling off mawkish feel-good scenes with a straight face, so to speak, and also, perhaps as a result of the success of his mediocre horror picture, The Silence of the Lambs, attracting top-tier commercial talent, with which Philadelphia is bursting. Tom Hanks, Denzel Washington, Jason Robards, Joanne Woodward, Mary Steenburgen, on and on the list goes, down to minor cameos like Dr. J, scads of hey-that-guys, and early glimpses of Antonio Banderas and Ann Dowd.
Plus Philadelphia has both Bruce Springsteen and Neil Young contributing theme songs. They could be the crucial point here because, however bland and obvious Philadelphia may be in terms of its TV movie of the week vibe, it comes with these unmistakable Demme touches, notably the music and the social gatherings, ritual communal events. It doesn’t have the musical brio of, say, Something Wild, let alone Stop Making Sense (or Swimming to Cambodia, whose only music is supplied figuratively by Spalding Gray’s tumbling stories)—they are the soundtracks you would want to acquire first. But Philadelphia does have those Springsteen and Young songs, plus a cocktail lounge party version of Talking Heads’ “Heaven,” performed by Q. Lazzarus, among many other bright moments spotted through. The social gatherings may not be all the way up to those in Rachel Getting Married, but few are and what’s here is in generally good form, given the story elements, including a memorial service and “gay parties.”
Although it is obviously intended as big-ticket Oscar-bait, Philadelphia benefits from having Jonathan Demme as director, who finds ways to make it worth seeing. It is always eminently watchable for its entire running length. Demme is capable of pulling off mawkish feel-good scenes with a straight face, so to speak, and also, perhaps as a result of the success of his mediocre horror picture, The Silence of the Lambs, attracting top-tier commercial talent, with which Philadelphia is bursting. Tom Hanks, Denzel Washington, Jason Robards, Joanne Woodward, Mary Steenburgen, on and on the list goes, down to minor cameos like Dr. J, scads of hey-that-guys, and early glimpses of Antonio Banderas and Ann Dowd.
Plus Philadelphia has both Bruce Springsteen and Neil Young contributing theme songs. They could be the crucial point here because, however bland and obvious Philadelphia may be in terms of its TV movie of the week vibe, it comes with these unmistakable Demme touches, notably the music and the social gatherings, ritual communal events. It doesn’t have the musical brio of, say, Something Wild, let alone Stop Making Sense (or Swimming to Cambodia, whose only music is supplied figuratively by Spalding Gray’s tumbling stories)—they are the soundtracks you would want to acquire first. But Philadelphia does have those Springsteen and Young songs, plus a cocktail lounge party version of Talking Heads’ “Heaven,” performed by Q. Lazzarus, among many other bright moments spotted through. The social gatherings may not be all the way up to those in Rachel Getting Married, but few are and what’s here is in generally good form, given the story elements, including a memorial service and “gay parties.”
Tom Hanks is Andrew Beckett, a gifted young trial lawyer on the fast track to success waylaid when he is summarily fired after his firm’s partners realize he is not only gay but also has AIDS. Beckett takes them to court for wrongful termination, setting up a courtroom drama with various unlikely scenes but terrific story conflict. And thus our social theme, which is hammered very hard, suitable to the purposes of this movie. Denzel Washington is “Regular” Joe Miller, the homophobic lawyer who represents Beckett. Miller explains himself in a barroom scene: “Let me tell you something. These people make me sick.” He also argues the point with his wife, who is not homophobic.
There’s probably a lot of opportunity for smug self-congratulations here, in terms of how far we think we may have come since this movie, released late in 1993, nearly 30 years ago. Yes, of course Joe Miller comes around. But let’s not get crazy. Our present U.S. Supreme Court does not appear to be finished yet taking us back to 19th-century white supremacist origins. It’s easy to make fun of a movie as sincerely earnest as Philadelphia, to take for granted the progress we have seen. It is so painfully obvious that in many ways the picture plays like a series of skits with messages suitable for needlepoint, e.g., "don't be mean.". It doesn’t mean they aren’t important messages.
And a lot of the principals were brave then to embrace these roles. Tom Hanks, Mr. Everyman, is ideal for the part just as he was ideal, in a way, for being among the first to contract Covid in March 2020. Thirty years later he may not have been able to get this part at all, given that LGBTQ folks are more and more loudly calling for those roles to go to more appropriate players than straight white folks like Hanks. In other words, to a certain extent, mission accomplished. Hanks here helps to normalize gays in a way that would (slowly, incrementally) lead to more and better opportunities for them.
The other side is the homophobia expressed here, which is raw and toxic, almost shockingly so, though also somewhat ham-handed. Philadelphia trots out all the slurs one way or another and doesn’t hold back. Joe Miller never entirely makes his peace with gays, but he comes around specifically on Beckett, and he comes around all the way. Again, it may be obvious, but it is also heartening.
Typically enough, Demme finds his way to the center of his main character, Andrew Beckett, in a piece of music, an aria from an opera which Beckett narrates as it plays in a central scene. It’s a very big scene, and very feel-good—the moment when Joe Miller opens up enough to Beckett to feel his humanity. I’m not entirely convinced by it, as I’m not entirely convinced by the movie as a whole. They feel overdone. But on some other level they feel urgently necessary.
You have to set aside your cynicism probably to take this movie the right way, no easy thing and I’m not sure I managed it. But toward the end, especially when the Neil Young song cranks up, it makes me cry. It makes me cry no matter how loudly telegraphed the resolution is. There was a time when making me cry was one of my litmus tests for a movie. In that regard, Philadelphia passes with flying colors.
There’s probably a lot of opportunity for smug self-congratulations here, in terms of how far we think we may have come since this movie, released late in 1993, nearly 30 years ago. Yes, of course Joe Miller comes around. But let’s not get crazy. Our present U.S. Supreme Court does not appear to be finished yet taking us back to 19th-century white supremacist origins. It’s easy to make fun of a movie as sincerely earnest as Philadelphia, to take for granted the progress we have seen. It is so painfully obvious that in many ways the picture plays like a series of skits with messages suitable for needlepoint, e.g., "don't be mean.". It doesn’t mean they aren’t important messages.
And a lot of the principals were brave then to embrace these roles. Tom Hanks, Mr. Everyman, is ideal for the part just as he was ideal, in a way, for being among the first to contract Covid in March 2020. Thirty years later he may not have been able to get this part at all, given that LGBTQ folks are more and more loudly calling for those roles to go to more appropriate players than straight white folks like Hanks. In other words, to a certain extent, mission accomplished. Hanks here helps to normalize gays in a way that would (slowly, incrementally) lead to more and better opportunities for them.
The other side is the homophobia expressed here, which is raw and toxic, almost shockingly so, though also somewhat ham-handed. Philadelphia trots out all the slurs one way or another and doesn’t hold back. Joe Miller never entirely makes his peace with gays, but he comes around specifically on Beckett, and he comes around all the way. Again, it may be obvious, but it is also heartening.
Typically enough, Demme finds his way to the center of his main character, Andrew Beckett, in a piece of music, an aria from an opera which Beckett narrates as it plays in a central scene. It’s a very big scene, and very feel-good—the moment when Joe Miller opens up enough to Beckett to feel his humanity. I’m not entirely convinced by it, as I’m not entirely convinced by the movie as a whole. They feel overdone. But on some other level they feel urgently necessary.
You have to set aside your cynicism probably to take this movie the right way, no easy thing and I’m not sure I managed it. But toward the end, especially when the Neil Young song cranks up, it makes me cry. It makes me cry no matter how loudly telegraphed the resolution is. There was a time when making me cry was one of my litmus tests for a movie. In that regard, Philadelphia passes with flying colors.
I think I reacted something like you to Remember the Titans, not even half this movie.
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