Klute (1971)

Donald Sutherland plays John Klute, a small town private investigator, whose search for a missing man leads him to a high-priced New York City call-girl named Bree Daniels, played by Jane Fonda. Bree keeps thinking she hears noises and has the feeling someone is following her. This story element combined with spooky music conveys an air of mystery, a sense that an unseen character lurks in the background.

It's an interesting premise. But the story is thin, and the film's payoff at the end is disappointing. The weak story transfers responsibility of entertainment to the two lead characters: Klute and Bree. And with Sutherland's character so reticent and stoic, "Klute" turns out to be mostly a character study of the call-girl, and therefore a cinematic vehicle for Fonda.

Although I'm not convinced she deserved an academy award for her performance, she does do a fine job. But there just isn't that much else to this film. It is very, very slow. Scenes are long and drawn out. Stylistically, "Klute" reminds me of "The Conversation" (1974). The film also is vaguely similar in style to some of Dario Argento's "giallos", minus the horror element, and minus Argento's fantastic cinematography.

Most viewers like this film because of Fonda's performance. And that's certainly a valid criterion. Far fewer people recommend the film for its story or plot. If you are a Jane Fonda fan, "Klute" will be a real treat. If you are looking for a chilling mystery with lots of plot twists, you might want to look elsewhere.

Fmovies: Permeated by a kind of haughty, stoned decadence, Alan J. Pakula's "Klute" concerns a sexy, shaggy prostitute in N.Y.C. who is the only real link to a missing family man from suburbia; a close friend of the man asserts himself as detective on the case, and after questioning the girl and trailing her, he finds himself drawn to her. Billed as a mystery-thriller, "Klute" is more of a dramatic character study, with preconceived plot threads devised by two screenwriters who can barely keep their secrets from spilling out. The final moments which piece the story together don't ring true (starting about the time Jane Fonda attacks Donald Sutherland and runs out into the street), but until then it's a dandy show-piece for Fonda, who gives an Oscar-winning performance. The ins-and-outs of the hooker-biz aren't really explored, but we get all we need just by listening to Fonda's dialogue (her complaints to her psychiatrist, her need for Sutherland's companionship) and by seeing her living alone in her apartment. For the actress, it's stellar work; for director Pakula, it's a bit thin around the edges. ***1/2 from ****

What an awesome film. A good movie to contrast this with, is the film "Devil's Own". Both were directed by the late, great Alan J. Pakula, but were products of vastly different quality. You couldn't pick up a paper, and not read about how much Harrison Ford and Brad Pitt hated each other, and the end product suffered because of it. You had the core of a good movie torn apart, because the Pitt part, and the Ford part didn't co-exist.

No Such problem with "Klute". Here, all the pieces fit together. Scheider's suave, non-chalant pimp, Sutherland's lonely, enigmatic pseudo-gumshoe, and Fonda's basket case call girl all fit wonderfully. In fact, there are no slackers in this cast. Michael Small's creepy score also deserves mention, as does Pakula's masterful use of gritty, realistic New York City.

It's almost depressing to watch the raw talent at work in films like "Klute". Nowadays, films are so much the result of magazine polling, and the ever-present bottom line. It's true, we still have independent films, but even they are getting co-opted by big money. Still, I suppose there still are the John Sayles' of the world holding out. God bless 'em.

Klute fmovies. We grab from the top drawer for our descriptive words nowadays. We call a really good movie "awesome," leaving ourselves at a loss when a movie truly does inspire awe, such is the case with Jane Fonda's performance as Bree Daniels in Klute. And not for the same reasons as we're normally "awed" by performances. She doesn't have big, tearful breakdown scenes or fiery cross-examinations on a witness stand. She simply interacts, tries to figure out her own feelings and lack thereof, and experiences them. She makes all the right choices, from the workings of her walk and her vocal nuances to the infiltration of the girl's rampant mind. It's an uncommonly exceptional performance. She has a kind of anxious concentration that keeps her so resolutely in sync with a film character that the character truly seems preoccupied by things that happen in the story. You effectively get the sense that Bree had other things on her mind and was just about to pursue them when whatever it is arose.

Klute is one of the paramount films in which director of photography Gordon Willis, more than any other cinematographer, circumscribed the cinematic look of the 1970s: sophisticated compositions in which gulps of light and black put the decade's vague philosophy into harsh release. He imbues Klute with shadow and underexposed long takes with a delicacy and expression rarely before seen on color film stock. He has an unaffected sense of unconventional but formal configuration and dark beauty, using a shadowy painterliness to characterize not only the look but the precise meaning and atmosphere of a film.

Nevertheless, more than just a neo-noir or detective thriller, this initial installment of what would unofficially come to be termed as quite incredible and quite overlooked director Alan J. Pakula's paranoia trilogy is about a practiced, clever, cynical and self-contained New York call girl without a heart of gold. She never feels anything when she's with a john, yet she does undergo a sensation of satisfaction with her skill when she pleases them. And some of them have very complex desires, which test her character's own inspired acting capability. One old garment industry magnate, for instance, romanticizes an optimistic bygone Europe life, and Bree depicts it to him in calm, tender descriptions while she undresses. He in no way touches her.

Bree is at the heart of a movie whose title character is a cop who's come to New York, ad hoc, to resolve a missing persons case. It seems that the missing man may still be alive, and the cause of obscene notes and phone calls Bree has been getting. Bree at first rebuffs Klute, though she ultimately does talk to him, mainly because she's scared by late-night stalkers and wants his safety. This, rather than the thriller aspects of the plot, is more or less where the film's theme becomes paranoia. It's a romantic relationship based on it. Paranoid thinking tends to incorporate oneself. Distinctive from dogma or stupidity. And it's fascinating to watch two actors, one of whom having only four or five lines in the entire film, develop their largely intuitive rapport on a basis of Bree's feelings of a seeming menace towards her, and what we can only sense is a gradual building of trust in her from a point of associating suspicion with his being alien to her lifestyle.

But how do you build a relationship between a neurotic prostitute and an upright milquetoast cop? This genuinely psychological dramatic thriller does

I agree with the commentator(s) who say the title of this film should be 'Bree' instead of 'Klute.' No offense to Donald Sutherland who is undoubtedly effective in his role, but it is Jane Fonda's wonderfully nuanced performance that really carries this film. What an incredible range this actress has and what an impressive résumé she has put together throughout her career! I can't wait to see her in Monster In Law. Jane Fonda definitely deserved the Oscar she got for this role. Her portrayal of Bree Daniels, a tragic heroine wracked by inner contradictions is one of cinema's most haunting characters not only in the context of the story but as the embodiment of the immediate post sexual revolution as well. Highly recommended!

I can't believe that only one user has had a comment on this film after almost 34 years. I remember seeing this film as a undergraduate in 1971. As far as anything goes in 1971, this was as erotic as a film got in that year without garnering an "X" rating. God, life was simpler then. I just watched this film for the first time since 1971 (34 years ago) and every ounce of suspense was still there. Donald Southerland was new to film then and had not yet earned his reputation as the consummate character actor. Jane Fonda had not yet earned the epithet of "Hanoi Jane". And Jean Stapleton was not yet known as "Edit". Although this film seems a little dated as far as acting styles go. The "creep" factor is still there. Anyone who has viewed a few episodes of "Law and Order" will see the obvious villain in the first 30 minutes of this film but will also appreciate the strenuous character development that is evident in the film. Although it is obvious fairly early on who the bad guy is, it's interesting to see the expository effort that is expended in order to flesh out the characters. I am so glad that most of the actors involved in this endeavor went on to greater glory. I thank DARPA for the internet for my ability to inflict my opinions on more than a "small circle of friends".