Chinatown

In 1937 Los Angeles, a private detective (Jack Nicholson) working a simple adultery case uncovers a massive conspiracy protected by murder.

Chinatown is one of the best-written films of all time. Screenwriter Robert Towne, with a little help from director Roman Polanski on the ending, crafts a masterful mystery, weaving several motifs, including water, and the ever-present and ominous Chinatown, together to create a rich tapestry that simultaneously pays homage to—and one-ups—the pulp detective stories of Chandler, Hammett and the like.

A good script is only part of the puzzle, but Chinatown brings the complete package. Polanski handles the period setting with flair, luring you in, then breaking with expectations in such scenes as his famous cameo as the knife-wielding assailant who maims Jack Nicholson.

Finally, there are the performers. Nicholson inhabits J.J. Gittes, a detective cut from the same cloth as Chandler’s Marlow, albeit one with a little less scruples, and thus, a bit more cash in his pocket. Still, he’s got a code of ethics he can’t bend which drags him deeper and deeper into the story’s mystery.

Opposite Nicholson, Faye Dunaway is perfect as the enigmatic Evelyn Mulwray. Beautiful and fragile, her fine clothes and measured appearance hide some deep scars, and Dunaway is able to convey all of this in a matter of moments, through her eyes, inflection and body language.

And then there’s John Huston. In a wonderfully self-reflexive bit of casting, Polanski takes the man who practically invented the detective noir as we know it with his directorial debut, The Maltese Falcon, and casts him as evil personified. Huston rises to the occasion, turning in a truly frightening villain, whose depths really become apparent in Polanski’s darker ending.

Chinatown is a film everyone should see. It’s a first-rate mystery told by a stylish, intuitive director featuring a first-rate cast. In short: it’s perfect.