I’d like to focus on the eerie relevance of this film, in our age of spycams, Patriot Acts, and the constant redefinition of privacy. Certainly, this film calls for a direct comparison to the also excellent (though not nearly as subtle or ambiguous) Lives of Other People. Even though the technology is solidly 1974, the obsolescence of Harry Caul’s equipment makes the film even creepier. If Caul could pull off his work with reel to reel tapes and and vintage era amps, what can a wiretapper do today?

The story also focuses not just on the invasion of privacy, but also the sad, Radio Shack geek subculture that is involved in electronic spying. Who are these losers who make a living off eavesdropping? (This aspect is also closely examined in Lives of Other People). The film’s jarring conclusion simply bleeds into real life. Privacy is but an illusion, and as long as there are pitiful, lonely men out there (and we’ll never have a shortage of that), the powers that be will continue to peer into our bedrooms, bathrooms, and closets.

Gene Hackman gives a fabulous performance, but I have to give a standing ovation to his rock solid supporting cast, led by the rotund, obnoxious to the point of heroic Alan Garfield, who plays the sleazy and constantly self-promoting Willie Moran. This is a film with no heroes; ergo, it’s the kind of movie you just don’t see anymore. But let us not regret the passing of New Hollywood. Instead, let us celebrate the fact it actually occurred.

Tags: Gene Hackman, the conversation

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