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As foolish as it may look, we can at least learn one thing from a man chasing his hat in the wind. He wants his hat back. Then, once we realize this, we can sit back and observe the funny way he runs after it, or how diabolical the wind can sometime be, or maybe even marvel at what an instinctive hat snatcher we have in our presence, if this so happens to be story with a happy ending.
The challenge of Miller’s Crossing will be that it is most interested in a man who doesn’t want us to see him chase anything. Tom Regan is not about to dance for our viewing pleasure. If he can, he will keep himself to the corners and watch everything as he silently sips some rum, only bothering to respond if someone says something that he hadn’t already calculated to be said. We’ll see him give a slight wince, because now he might need to step out of the shadows to course correct things. But never accompanied with any grand gestures or change of expression. He doesn’t want us to know anything about him, not even what he is doing in his own story.
The only glimpse we will ever be granted to his inner workings will be as he confesses to a dream he once had: a nightmare of stiff breezes and loose headware. “There’s nothing more foolish than a man chasing his own hat”, he states grimly, then to clarify why he has told us this, makes it clear it's only because he thinks it was nothing but a dream about a hat. But, unfortunately for him, it reveals to us exactly what we need to know, and why it is he stares with seeming indifference as everything he wants walks away from him.
Watching Miller’s Crossing with the knowledge that Tom Regan is a man crippled by pride, and who lives with the fear that all of the feelings he hides inside might one day betray him and get him to chase after that metaphorical hat after all, will somewhat let us in on the inscrutable spell it casts. But it will always be unclear how much of the films mysteries he has already got a read on, and when everything wraps up, how much he cares about the conclusion. He sure isn’t about to tell. And in the instance that the hat does happen to return, how can we ever be certain whether it was through some secret meteorological interference designed by him, or if the breeze just happened to blow it back his way? Does it even matter? Well, not according to that deadpan expression we’ll get back from Regan himself as he dusts it off and returns it to his head.
While it may be a meticulously made noir homage, filled with all sorts of eccentric underworld hanger-ons, each sporting a mouthful of the tastiest pulp dialogue this side of Dashiell Hammet, Miller’s Crossing seems like an emotional wasteland as we watch. Mostly this will be because we are not permitted to share in any of its failures or triumphs. Only to watch and wonder who is pulling the strings here, if anybody. And, in this respect, it is fascinating. But the movie also seems as if it lacks some amount of heart, a fitting (and likely necessary) absence since the central question posed in the film revolves around whether or not Tom Regan is in possession of such a pesky organ.
In answering this question the first time, it will be met with an unexpected show of mercy. The second time, violence will quickly and mercilessly punctuate the question, almost as if it might somehow erase the first response from having ever happened. And at this point the record will be set straight. We know there actually might be a man of some conscience inside of Regan, but it is irrelevant, since he will never be allowed out again. He will go back to dreaming about hats. And, most likely, no one else will ever think these hats might be anything but a hat ever again. We will have stopped watching him by then, after all. Left with what is technically a completely satisfactory character arc, we will move on, even if when we stand back a little, it might be hard to see if anything has happened at all. Just as Tom Regan probably likes it.
The challenge of Miller’s Crossing will be that it is most interested in a man who doesn’t want us to see him chase anything. Tom Regan is not about to dance for our viewing pleasure. If he can, he will keep himself to the corners and watch everything as he silently sips some rum, only bothering to respond if someone says something that he hadn’t already calculated to be said. We’ll see him give a slight wince, because now he might need to step out of the shadows to course correct things. But never accompanied with any grand gestures or change of expression. He doesn’t want us to know anything about him, not even what he is doing in his own story.
The only glimpse we will ever be granted to his inner workings will be as he confesses to a dream he once had: a nightmare of stiff breezes and loose headware. “There’s nothing more foolish than a man chasing his own hat”, he states grimly, then to clarify why he has told us this, makes it clear it's only because he thinks it was nothing but a dream about a hat. But, unfortunately for him, it reveals to us exactly what we need to know, and why it is he stares with seeming indifference as everything he wants walks away from him.
Watching Miller’s Crossing with the knowledge that Tom Regan is a man crippled by pride, and who lives with the fear that all of the feelings he hides inside might one day betray him and get him to chase after that metaphorical hat after all, will somewhat let us in on the inscrutable spell it casts. But it will always be unclear how much of the films mysteries he has already got a read on, and when everything wraps up, how much he cares about the conclusion. He sure isn’t about to tell. And in the instance that the hat does happen to return, how can we ever be certain whether it was through some secret meteorological interference designed by him, or if the breeze just happened to blow it back his way? Does it even matter? Well, not according to that deadpan expression we’ll get back from Regan himself as he dusts it off and returns it to his head.
While it may be a meticulously made noir homage, filled with all sorts of eccentric underworld hanger-ons, each sporting a mouthful of the tastiest pulp dialogue this side of Dashiell Hammet, Miller’s Crossing seems like an emotional wasteland as we watch. Mostly this will be because we are not permitted to share in any of its failures or triumphs. Only to watch and wonder who is pulling the strings here, if anybody. And, in this respect, it is fascinating. But the movie also seems as if it lacks some amount of heart, a fitting (and likely necessary) absence since the central question posed in the film revolves around whether or not Tom Regan is in possession of such a pesky organ.
In answering this question the first time, it will be met with an unexpected show of mercy. The second time, violence will quickly and mercilessly punctuate the question, almost as if it might somehow erase the first response from having ever happened. And at this point the record will be set straight. We know there actually might be a man of some conscience inside of Regan, but it is irrelevant, since he will never be allowed out again. He will go back to dreaming about hats. And, most likely, no one else will ever think these hats might be anything but a hat ever again. We will have stopped watching him by then, after all. Left with what is technically a completely satisfactory character arc, we will move on, even if when we stand back a little, it might be hard to see if anything has happened at all. Just as Tom Regan probably likes it.