The Fugitive Review: Harrison Ford Stuns in Focused Cop Thriller

In what can be realistically described as the tail-end of Harrison Ford’s illustrious career as one of Hollywood’s top leading men, he puts a stamp on his legacy that reframes his success in this focused and more dramatically inclined operation.

I do think this story relies on him in a way he hasn’t been relied on in the past. Ford’s career up to this point can be typically encompassed by four roles; American Graffiti, Blade Runner, Indiana Jones, and the great Han Solo. He’s the definition of an icon, somebody who understands what the audience is looking for, delivers on his promises, and goes about his day. Nobody would mistake him for someone who has range, although given the natural charisma he brings to his roles he’s never really needed it. This film fits cleverly with the man we’ve seen before, but takes advantage of his age in a way that allows us as the audience to see a more realistic, wiser, and humble man.

Richard Kimble (Harrison Ford) is a well renowned Vascular Surgeon in the Chicago area with a seemingly perfect life. He has wealth, status, and a remarkably wonderful relationship. What we get out of him is a soft intelligence, something that isn’t taken for granted by himself but is easily noticeable by the people around him. Mind you, this is both a social and mental intellect. Something the film warns from the very (second) scene is his ability to get in and out of a crowd, and use his charming personality to his advantage. This is a tantamount observation of his character, and one that he uses just as much if not more than his mental calculations. Also throughout the film it becomes clear that he is more than just his brain. It is proven over and over again that his moral convictions are more than just that. He is dutiful, and grateful, and consistently puts himself in harm's way for the sake of others. His morality, in conjunction with Tommy Lee Jones’ relentless pursuit of justice, becomes the heartbeat that places this film on another level, and drives the plot into unfolding in a predictable if not satisfying manner. 

The opening starts where it should, beginning at the moment of his arrest along with the fundraiser he was attending just moments before. One of this film’s greatest strengths is its ability to captivate its audience from the moment it begins, to its abrupt, but impactful ending. It stays focused, it trims the fat and it always pushes forward. Editing is important in all films, but it’s vital in this one. The way they were able to balance Ford’s escape with the cops' pursuit shows that the director knew what kind of film they were making, and took advantage of conventions within the genre. The opening was successful at painting a full picture of the character, while at the same time alluding to the conflict that would make up the rest of the film. Also, It still had credits rolling nearly twenty minutes into the movie! (I love it when it does that). 

From there, we get into the natural order of events which were shot well but typical in their execution. Ford is questioned, convicted, and sent to death. What makes these scenes powerful are the way in which the director chooses to intertwine them with Ford’s thoughts of guilt, and his hunger for justice. A lot of this hinges on two things; the performance of Harrison Ford, and the flashbacks with the dead wife. Because of the character work done previously at the fundraiser, Ford gets to stand with a leg up when it comes to this kind of thing. His motivations are set and a character with his intelligence and cunning becomes an intriguing person to get behind. One of the best parts of the film is watching people who are good at things do those things well. This film has a lot of that, which in and of itself makes it a decent movie. Beyond that, the flashbacks are used to supplement the emotional resonance and build out the situation. While I typically find the act of telling a story through dramatic flashbacks cumbersome and not conducive to the pace of the narrative, here it was tolerable. They were brief, and they gave enough to question the motive. Each flashback was important, it wasn’t just a rehash of the characters emotional state.

My only major complaint with the film is one that I have with many films, so much so that it’s hard for me to recognize how much of a negative impact it has on me. I don’t appreciate the romantic view of absolute justice, and while Jones’ character was technically the antagonist here, I don’t see this film as any sort of criticism of law enforcement, or the system in which Harrison Ford’s character was oppressed by. Kimble never had any doubt in the system, and this lack of doubt was shown to be some sort of moral superiority. What gave me the most pause though, was how they had treated Tommy Lee Jones’ character. He was mostly seen as difficult, but justified. I would not place someone with such a lackadaisical trigger-finger as justified. People like that don’t care about the complexities of the socio-economic state of the country, and it continues a world-view that people like that are “badass” in some way. 

I promise I’m not going to go over the entirety of the film. It helps to talk about what’s noticeable though in a chronological order. That being said, the scene after conviction is just as important to the film as everything else. And also, the credits are still rolling, so it’s still the opening. 

When the bus crashes and the inmates escape, we get one more important character distinction from Richard Kimble (Ford) that I alluded to earlier. In a state of panic, with a train moving toward them at rapid speed, Ford’s character alone is the one to take care of the injured  guard and put his life in his hands. Even with escape on the horizon, and the others already escaped, it becomes clear that Kimble not only maintains a firm sense of morality, but also acts on what he believes to be just. 

After his timely escape, we find ourselves in front of a character arguably more iconic, and more appreciated than that of Harrison Ford. 

First of all, I had just looked up Tommy Lee Jones’ award history and didn’t realize he received next to nothing for his work in No Country For Old Men. Insane! Absolutely worth pointing out, I think he was better there than he was here. Maybe Javier Bardem ate up all the press (He probably did).

Anyway, there’s a character played by him that at first I wondered why he received such praise (I still don’t find him Oscar worthy), but his character has been one to stick in my thoughts over the last day or so. First of all, he’s a character with an absolute sense of justice. It’s shown later in the film, but he has complete faith in the law to the point where he would be willing to put his own men in harm's way to enact what he believes is right. He’s famous for it here, and it’s worth pointing out the scene where Ford tells him “I DIDN’T KILL MY WIFE!” only for him to respond with a confused look on his face. “I don’t care.” He tells him. It’s not his job to speculate. It’s his job to enforce the law.

This dichotomy between the two characters is what sets the film apart, and it’s the emphasis on exploration through Jones’ psyche that allows them to do that. Every change in his character is hinted at, and without the need for any dramatic shouting they were able to display everything they needed to. Frankly, he didn’t change all that much. He never doubted his position in relation to the law, he never lost confidence in his ability to enact what was right, all he ever did was recognize the similarity between him and the man he was chasing, and that the situation was more conspiratorial than he previously thought.  

So what exactly makes him so compelling? At the time of my writing this, I’m not entirely sure. Of course Tommy Lee Jones was a major reason for this. He was cocky, intelligent, animated, but not too animated. He kept his wits and worked  as an extremely dangerous foil.  While I expected Ford’s character to win, it was hard to imagine Jones’ character losing. His performance felt effortless, and it was easy to imagine him as a real figure. Jones also did a good job of keeping his story close to his chest, and when the character displayed any subtle changes it felt as if it were earth-shattering news. 

In relation to Harrison Ford, both of the men found themselves with mutual respect by the end of the film. While their way of seeing the world could be seen as separate from far away, when you zoom in closer their mannerisms were eerily similar. They were both incredibly lawful in how they approached their morality. They had respect for each other's intelligence, and as the film chugged on it became difficult for each of them to see each other as their primary antagonist. When Tommy Lee Jones told Harrison Ford “I don’t care”, he really didn’t at the time. By about two thirds of the way through, it was clear that his feelings had changed, whether or not that would impact his dedication to the job.

The real villain of the film was a minor character, one that wasn’t particularly well realized but played his part to relative perfection. To me, he was a good example that not every character needs to be developed to be successful. In this situation, developing the character like that would only divert from the real thematic content, and bog down a mystery that would ironically be more easily solved with more involvement from him. The mystery in and of itself was all the development the audience needed, and this villain as a representative of that mystery was able to capitalize on its foundation. In that way, the villain was not very developed, but he wasn’t underdeveloped, if that makes any sense.

In other minor thoughts on the movie, I felt that maybe the cinematography was alright (I wasn’t thinking about it much during the film). The music had that wonderful bombastic flare that isn’t part of today’s pictures. Not that I miss it, I both like it and am glad that it’s different now. There were a few names that I didn’t expect to see, like Joe Pantoliano and Jullianne Moore. They were fine but really I was just happy to see them there. They were like a cool bird you see out the window. They don’t need to do anything, I’m just happy to see them existing. 

I can see why The Fugitive became so successful, and I was thoroughly impressed by its ability to tell its story well.  It was well paced, organized, well developed and certainly well acted. While its direction wasn’t newsworthy, it maintained a crisp energy that manifested into a brilliantly executed, predictable entry into the cop thriller genre.

Grade: ☀☀☀