Movies: Inside Moves
Richard Donner’s 1980 drama, written by Barry Levinson from Todd Walton’s novel
What begins as a sad, dissonant tale of a jittery, disowned young man who hurls himself from a skyscraper in the middle of the downtown daylight becomes the tale of metamorphosis. It’s a quiet and classic story. Most of the major points are made offscreen — part of an unheard yet moving introspection — and the film’s theme, egoism, is abstract.
Inside Moves is the simple title of Richard Donner’s 1980 film. It’s a soft, gentle and purposeful film starring John Savage as the mysterious loner who, for whatever reason, becomes alienated, displaced and severely depressed. A pinball machine is the only reference to Donner‘s blockbuster 1978 success, Superman, starring Christopher Reeve. But this motion picture, based on the Doubleday novel by ex-high school athlete Todd Walton, is a heroic offshoot.
How, why and whether a troubled young man, whose troubles remain elusive throughout the film, chooses to want to live turns out to be a compelling reason to watch. It’s not easy to make a film about suicide. But the film, written by Valerie Curtin and Barry Levinson (The Natural), contains psychological insights, beginning with certain inclinations, such as the desire to ease pain. This understanding leads the Savage character into Max’s Bar. It’s a dive somewhere in the Bay Area. There’s a tall, youthful bartender. There’s a drug-addicted whore and street pimps hovering close by. There’s a band of men who enjoy one another’s company. What they have in common is in plain view: each among the men, who are older, are handicapped.
That each among us can be crippled or damaged in some fundamental or hard-to-change way is an essential part of Inside Moves, which applies its wisdom to multiple self-directed goals, including getting rich, playing in the big leagues and finding someone to love. Savage’s character, taken in by dry humor and consumption of alcohol in a place that filters out light, is the recipient of the bartender’s hospitality. He reciprocates. The byproduct of his powerful acts of free will involve harmony, love and facing hardship, despair and excruciating pain. Max’s Bar is located in a bad part of town where thugs can rule the streets. Inside Moves dramatizes the daily and nightly agony and ecstasy of repairing oneself. It climaxes in an unforgettable and poignant scene in which he discloses the essence of why he hurled himself from a building. He tells it to someone he loves. He tells it to tell that person to go to hell. And it’s one of the most honest scenes of explaining suicide and despair on film.
Diana Scarwid plays a barmaid who’s comfortable in the company of older, drunk men. David Morse, whom you know as a character actor in Concussion, Contact and Disturbia, is the tall, young bartender. The cast of old men and everyone else are fine. They each face the struggle—the basic conflict over whether to choose to live or die—of life during inflation, foreclosure, violent crime, drug addiction, pornography and prostitution. Inside Moves, scored by John Barry and photographed by László Kovács, is not as bleak as all that, not at all. Ultimately, it’s not about tying ties that bind us together. It’s about sealing the bond within for summoning the strength to carry on. Of course, he lives among others. Watch Max’s Bar, the neighborhood, and the patrons and staff and think about the impact of one man on each. But don’t let camaraderie delude you and make you think that’s the movie’s point. Watch John Savage’s character. He’s the embodiment of the ideal that making oneself beautiful, like a butterfly, begins from the inside out.
I've just watched it after coming across it recently after a Google search. I was a kid when I saw this, now in my 40s, just remember a film about a man jumping from a window, googled it there it was. I've now got the book also I'm gonna read, I hope it's as good as the film.
Very insightful.
Thank you.
I thought of seeing this movie when it came out in the 80’s.
Now, I definitely want to revisit the possibility of seeing it, especially for an underrated actor like John Savage.