Even those critics who were unimpressed with the film
were united in their praise of Jack Nicholson’s performance as Detective
Jake Gittes. The character’s cynicism, world-weariness, and slightly sleazy
disposition and habits were drawn straight from classic film noir
detectives and the novels that inspired those films. Unlike the constant,
cool self-assurance of Humphrey Bogart’s Sam Spade in the celebrated
film noir The Maltese Falcon, Nicholson plays Gittes as
a man in over his head.
In fact, much of Jake’s anger and determination come from
his frustrated realization of just how lost he truly is. Nicholson
made the infamous bandage, a disfigurement many actors wouldn’t
have risked, into a steadying force for Jake. The violence of the
knife attack is something he can at least understand and respond
to appropriately. Nicholson has a very human approach to the role, the
pinnacle of which is his decision to imbue Jake with a stubborn optimism
and sense of decency that survive despite his profession and his
prior experience in Chinatown. His actions in the final scene are
startling and powerfully effective, leaving the viewer with affection
for Jake despite his baser tendencies.
Faye Dunaway’s portrayal of Evelyn Mulwray is firmly rooted
in the film noir tradition of mysterious and beautiful heroines,
though the character departs from the femme fatale model. Most of
her actions and dialogue are designed to let Nicholson’s character
know that she is hiding something from him. Dunaway, however, adds surprising
shadings to simple lines. Rather than rely on the distance of cool
calculation, Dunaway makes Evelyn’s reticence that of pure fear:
she is a bad liar in a dangerous situation whose only hope of not
saying something dangerous is to say nothing at all. Though she continues
in the film noir tradition of sleeping with the detective, the oddly
tender scene beforehand makes it clear that the sex is the mutual
seduction of two lonely people. The discussion of Jake’s past that
immediately follows is a quest for emotional intimacy that neatly
bookends the moment. Dunaway’s portrayal suggests that Evelyn hopes
to have found a kindred spirit in Jake. The occasional quaver of
her voice and the fragile desperation with which she asks him to
come back with her hint at a woman who believes she is just as lost
as Jake has become.
John Huston’s portrayal of Noah Cross is the film’s most
electrifying performance. He has less screen time than Nicholson
and Dunaway, but he still succeeds in giving his character depth.
Noah Cross appears to be a faultlessly personable and charming man,
a characterization that sets Huston’s interpretation of villainy
apart from traditional screen villains. Huston’s care to keep his
pleasantly wrinkled face and friendly smile unmarred by any shades
of baser intent makes Cross’s character all the more sinister to
viewers as they discover his inherently evil nature. How can someone
do what Cross has done, believe the things Cross believes, and still
look so innocent? What depth of psychosis does that require? Huston’s genius
is that the viewer’s imagination eclipses an entire film’s worth of
character analysis, turning a character with a mere handful of scenes
into a nightmare incarnate.
