SONNY BOY Al Pacino

SONNY BOY: A Memoir. Al Pacino. Penguin; 2024.

In this very well-written (by whom it is not known) memoir, there is a constant shifting from the self-absorbed movie star to the ordinary guy who just wants to remember his roots and be loved. Pacino spends quite a few pages on his childhood in the Bronx, his divorced parents, grandparents, and both begins and ends with portraits of his young buddies, most of whom came to bad ends because of drugs. Pacino doesn't gloss over his own problems with alcohol and drugs nor does he deny occasionally foolish behavior. He is selective about the films he chooses to write about, as well as the colleagues, and no doubt some will be insulted that he doesn't mention certain individuals at all. He is generally kind when it comes to his various girlfriends, but all we learn about actress Beverly D'Angelo (of Hair), with whom he had twins, is her name (Pacino doesn't mention the bitter custody battle they engaged in either). Pacino gives credit to the people who helped him down through the years, including acting coach Charlie (not the famous Charles) Laughton and agent-producer Martin Bregman. Surprisingly Pacino reveals that he went "broke" due to the manipulations of a now-imprisoned accountant, and this is why he took roles in movies that he pretty much knew would be awful. (Righteous Kill anyone?) Along the way Pacino notes some of the films and performances, such as Ray Milland's in The Lost Weekend, that he admires. Whatever his flaws as both actor and man, Pacino is an immensely talented Artist, who kept going back to the theater, took chances on doing Shakespeare (with mixed results), and directed both documentaries and dramas (oddly, he barely mentions Chinese Coffee, in which he directed himself and Jerry Orbach). Pacino's oldest child, Julie, is now in her thirties, but Pacino doesn't tell us much about her. I guess a movie star is a movie star is a movie star -- this is about me, baby! -- regardless of their background. NOTE: For a look at Pacino's life and career, investigate Al Pacino: In Films and On Stage by yours truly. 

Verdict: Excellent, absorbing and very worthwhile autobiography. ***1/2. 

LAW AND ORDER

Sam Waterston as Jack McCoy

LAW AND ORDER. NBC TV series   1990 - 2010. 

 Jack McCoy: "I don't think he's going to   confess."

 Adam Schiff: "Why should he confess?  You'll probably arrest somebody else tomorrow."

Now that Law and Order is coming back after a ten year absence, it's time to look back at this highly-successful and entertaining series, all twenty years of it. The first executive D.A. was Ben Stone, well-played by Michael Moriarty, who resigned when a terrified witness was shot dead in front of an police escort. Stone was replaced by Jack McCoy, the character most associated with the show (after perhaps the late Jerry Orbach), also well-played by Sam Waterston (although Waterson's perpetual head-shaking got to be annoying after a while). The first D.A. depicted on the show was grumpy Adam Schiff (Steven Hill). His performance couldn't be called great acting perhaps, but he was amusingly effective. 

You had to take Law and Order with a grain of salt. To create suspense, far too many episodes had the police and prosecutors arresting more than one person -- sometimes as many as three members of the same family -- for the same murder, something that in real life would never happen (or the ADA wouldn't last very long). I think the writers even saw the silliness of this, prompting the exchange between McCoy and Schiff you can see above. When cops were dressed down by their higher-ups, the latter always came off like incredibly nasty and suspicious super-villains instead of real people.

Jesse L. Martin and Leslie Hendrix as the M.E.

Although I like Waterson, I can't say I liked the character he played. Too many times McCoy would prosecute people when some of these wrongful deaths should have been adjudicated in civil court -- but it made for a good, if implausible, storyline. McCoy would want to take down defendants for their arrogance, but he could be just as arrogant. And hypocritical. I literally laughed at loud during one episode (the notorious one in which McCoy tries to invalidate gay marriage so that he can successfully convict a gay defendant -- don't ask) when McCoy complains of one person involved in the case that "he was hitting on his subordinate!" What's hilarious about this is that if you listen carefully to the dialogue in many previous episodes, McCoy had affairs with many of his female "subordinates." Even if these women initiated the affairs, it was incredibly inappropriate behavior. Occasionally someone would refer to McCoy's indiscretions, but he was never really called on the carpet for it. He eventually married one of his subordinates, the marriage didn't work, and he had a daughter that he hadn't spoken to in ten years!

Then there's the case of ADA Serena Southerlyn (Elizabeth Rohm, who appeared on the show for several seasons). In "Ain't No Love" in which a rap star is murdered, Serena is fired for being too passionate about a case and supposedly acting on emotion instead of evidence. She asks D.A. Arthur Branch (Fred Thompson) if he's firing her because she's a lesbian (which comes out of nowhere). He says "of course not," but when you consider that she had every good reason to think the man on trial was innocent she probably was fired for being gay. McCoy, who sometimes gets so overly passionate about things you think he's demented or will have a stroke, doesn't go to bat for her. 

Over twenty years the show had a huge cast, most of whom gave notable performances. Jerry Orbach as Detective Lennie Briscoe; Jesse L. Martin as Ed Green; S. Epatha Merkerson as Lt. Van Buren; Linus Roache as ADA Mike Cutter (who told Jack off more than once); Chris Noth as Detective Mike Logan; Leslie Hendrix as the taciturn medical examiner; Angie Harmon as ADA Carmichael; Carey Lowell as ADA Ross. Paul Sorvino and George Dzunda also played detectives in the early seasons and were swell. Dianne Weist only lasted one season as the D.A.; she added nothing to the show.

Some of the best episodes of the series include: 

"Misconception." There are terrific twists in this story of a pregnant woman who is attacked on the street. Season 2.

"Manhood." Cops let a gay colleague down by not responding to his calls for help. Season 3.

"American Dream" features Zeljko Ivanek as a killer who gets a new trial and goes up against Ben as his own lawyer. Season 4.

"Snatched." A wealthy man's son is kidnapped -- or was he? Season 4.

"Censure." A man terrorizing a woman and her child turns out to be a respected judge (David Groh). Season 4.

"Sanctuary." A superb episode with multiple points of view about racism and anti-Semitism as a Jew runs over a black boy and a a black man beats a white man to death. Season 4.

"Corruption." Lennie's old colleague (Kevin Conway) is accused of being on the take, then turns around and accuses Lennie. Season 7. 

"Showtime." The trial of a director who murdered and dismembered his ex-wife. Season 7.

"Burden." A doctor murders a disabled boy, but he may be a serial killer and not a mercy killer." Season 8.

""DNR." A lady judge (Lindsay Crouse) is shot by a man who hired her husband; she wants to die but won't condemn him. Season 10.

"Marathon" A woman is shot in broad daylight, but Lennie Briscoe's allegedly hearing the confession of the killer is called into question. Good character development, especially concerning Briscoe. Season 10. 

"Sundown." A man (George Martin) with Alzheimer's is accused of murdering his wife. Season 10. 

"Identity." An elderly man's identity is stolen as well as his home; murder results. Season 14.

"Red Ball." Jack McCoy is forced to make a deal with a loathsome man in order to save a child's life. Season 16.

"Charity case." When a movie star adopts an African baby more than one murder results. Season 17.

"Captive." Sad (if somewhat contrived) episode in which McCoy actually prosecutes a boy for the murder of a child even though he had been kidnapped and molested. Season 17.

"Misbegotten." Interesting if imperfect, twisty episode about a bombing, the gay gene, and a brother-in-law accused of murder. Season 18.

"Quit Claim" Fascinating look at an illegal real estate scheme, who the real mastermind behind it is, and the manipulations of a mysterious female suspect. Season 18.

"Rumble." Jack charges a group of men who had a fight in a park -- with the resulting deaths of innocents -- as terrorists. Season 19.

"By Perjury." Mike (Linus Roache) matches wits with a lawyer (Dallas Roberts) who is representing relatives of victims of an airliner disaster.

"Anchors Away." A Bernie Madoff-inspired episode involving murders, a Ponzi scheme, and television reporters. Season 19.

"Shotgun." A storeowner (Elliot Gould) shoots men robbing his store but there are serious complications. Season 20.

"Innocence." Mike challenges the Innocence Project when they claim he wrongfully convicted a gay-basher. Season 20.

The last two episodes of the series beautifully illustrate the two main types of stories that appeared on the show. "Love Eternal" is an amusing, strange tale with a tacky woman arrested for murdering her masochistic, comics-collecting husband. The final episode, "Rubber Room," is a tense and suspenseful story of everyone trying to track down a boy planning to bomb a high school, while Lt. Anita Van Buren (S. Epatha Merkerson) waits for the results of her MRI regarding her cancer. 

Verdict: Whatever its flaws, this was a compelling and intriguing series "ripped from the headlines." ***1/2. 

CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS

Woody Allen and Mia Farrow

CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS (1989). Written and directed by Woody Allen.

"When I grew up in Brooklyn, nobody committed suicide. Everyone was too depressed."

Opthamologist Judah Rosenthal (Martin Landau of Mission: Impossible) has a wife, Miriam (Claire Bloom), and children, as well as a mistress, a stewardess named Delores (Anjelica Huston of Manhattan Murder Mystery). Delores is making noises that she wants to "have it out" with Miriam, and keeps pressuring Judah to leave his wife, which Judah will simply not do. Fearing that his life and reputation will be shattered, in desperation Judah turns to his much less respectable brother, Jack (Jerry Orbach), who suggests a certain final "solution"... As this plays out, we also meet documentary filmmaker Cliff Stern (Woody Allen), who has an unhappy marriage to un-supportive wife, Wendy (Joanna Gleason), and finds himself falling for producer Halley Reed (Mia Farrow), who is working with Cliff on a film about his brother-in-law, a borderline obnoxious TV personality named Lester (Alan Alda of Same Time, Next Year). Crimes and Misdemeanors is in some ways an odd and very Allen-like movie, with the two different story lines never quite merging, but the picture is still compelling, amusing, and ultimately horrifying. Its exploration of moral complexities is a little uneven because Judah's solution to the "problem" of his mistress is on a much darker level than Cliff's contemplation of an affair when it is clear that neither he nor his wife are in love with each other. Still, the picture features some wonderful performances (from virtually everyone, although Landau and Huston are cast stand-outs), Allen's typically trenchant dialogue and observations, and a depressing but sadly realistic wind up. Initially seen as a benevolent figure, it is clear that Judah is a selfish and self-justifying monster. There are no dramatic fireworks or revelations concerning his immoral actions, but the ending is nevertheless sickening. The theme of the film seems to be, as Judah states, "only in Hollywood are there happy endings."

Verdict: One of Allen's more memorable and entertaining pictures. ***.

PRINCE OF THE CITY

PRINCE OF THE CITY (1981). Director: Sydney Lumet.

Detective Daniel Ciello cooperates with internal affairs to expose corruption in the department, as long as he doesn't have to snitch on his friends -- which is easier said than done. Although Treat Williams gives a solid performance as Ciello, and there are other good performances (from Jerry Orbach and others) this is an overlong, disappointing true crime drama that holds the attention in a minor way but never quite hits the dramatic high notes. There are way too many characters, and Ciello's reasons for contacting internal affairs (after they first contacted him) are never clearly delineated. After awhile you get a little bored with the same theme being played over and over -- the prosecutors warn Ciello not to perjure himself; Ciello gets angry that they expect too much of him etc. etc. This goes on for nearly three hours. The best that can be said for Lumet's direction is that it's unobtrusive.

Verdict: Worth a look if you've got three hours to kill. **1/2.