Seconds (June 9/02)
Seconds, originally released in 1966, was a box office bomb during its original theatrical run. But it's built up a cult following over the years, and is considered by many to be a superior thriller. Having finally seen it, all I can say is: Huh?
As the movie opens, we meet a bored businessman (played by John Randolph) with an average life. His daughter rarely calls, his wife lives her own life, and he's got a dull (but secure) job at a bank. One day, though, he receives a mysterious phone call from an old friend he assumed was dead. After being handed an address on the way to work, he decides to check it out. The address is just a front, and he's finally lead to his real destination - an office building of some kind. After being showed into an empty office and drinking the tea he was offered, he finds himself becoming drowsy and falls asleep. When he wakes, he discovers why he's been brought to this place. Turns out it's a company that offers unwilling men the chance to fake their own death and start their life anew, complete with an entirely new body (surgically altered, of course). He really doesn't have a choice in the matter, given that he's being blackmailed into proceeding (he didn't actually fall asleep before, you see). So, he signs the contract and begins the process - which turns him into Rock Hudson and offers him the chance to pursue his childhood dream of being an artist. But he soon determines that this second chance comes with a price…
It's easy enough to see why Seconds has become a cult classic - it's got a Twilight Zone-ish premise with an ending that's far more terrifying than the rest of the movie would indicate - but it's also rife with '60s excess and over-the-top direction by the usually restrained John Frankenheimer. Shot using stark black and white photography, there's no denying the film looks great. The opening credits sequence, done by the legendary Saul Bass, provide a confusing (but thoroughly ominous) introduction to the film. Frankenheimer's early choices in presenting the life of this boring (and bored) man are effective, providing us with a fly-on-the-wall sort of look at his life. But later sequences, especially a visit to a nudist grape-stomping event, are filmed with just the sort of disastrous directorial choices that have sunk many a '60s film (Midnight Cowboy and Easy Rider, to name the two most prominent victims of this).
Still, the movie does rebound with that shocker of an ending, and the performances are good. Hudson, in particular, seems to be having a lot of fun playing this disenfranchised schlub. But the movie is doomed to remain a '60s curiosity, due to the incredibly dated look of the whole thing.
