(1974)

Starring Jack Nicholson, Faye Dunaway, John Huston; dir: Roman Polanski

Chinatown seems like a different movie on every viewing. With so much in it, perhaps this isn’t surprising.

Jack’s character is close to the Phillip Marlowe archetype in his readiness to take on a quixotic mission. It's only partly driven by Jake's desire to restore his reputation after being tricked into the role of pawn in a much bigger game.  He wants to see the game. Genuine feeling for the central scam’s various victims only make him further entwined, but there is a lot more richness to this 70s classic than mere suggestions of Watergate metaphors. He, like Chandler’s original, is a bruised idealist.

Ultimately it’s quite moving. Polanski’s European sensibilities, which insisted on the ultra-downbeat ending, ensure this. It’s a lucky break for film posterity. Chinatown could so easily have had the obvious happy finale of seeing Faye ride off into the Mexican sunset to achieve narrative closure. But without the ache of the eventual conclusion - and its classic line ("Let it go, Jake. It’s Chinatown."), would we still revisit it over and over, even into the 21st century?