Defining any cinematic era is a challenging task since while we tend to categorize them depending on movements or periods, choosing a precise start and end to a particular era is not always possible. In terms of the New Hollywood movement, the general tendency is to look at it as having started in the late 1960s, and with the sheer volume of works being produced in the industry at the time, any attempt to choose the one film that started it is impossible. The consensus is that it didn’t start with one film, but rather a group of them, all of which were released in 1967, often cited as a banner year for Hollywood for several reasons – and nestled right at the heart of this batch of films is Cool Hand Luke, a film that represents everything that made New Hollywood such an impactful movement. Written by Frank R. Pierson and based on the novel of the same title by Donn Pearce (who also co-wrote the screenplay, bringing his distinctive grit to this production), it tells the story of a petty criminal who finds himself sentenced to spend the next two years of his life in a labour camp for his drunken misdeeds and finds himself rebelling against his captors, has been a source of a lot of discourse over the years, from both sides of the socio-cultural aisle, with this film being one of the most divisive works to come out of this period, albeit one that many still outwardly respect, even if its message can be slightly heavy-handed and its approach slightly too intense for the subject being explored. Directed by journeyman filmmaker Stuart Rosenberg, who was actively trying to make a case for himself as the next great director by taking advantage of the changing trajectory of the industry, the film is a concise, thrilling and fascinating character study that leaps into the proverbial unknown in terms of the specific themes it is focusing on, exploring the trials and tribulations of a group of men bound by a system designed to oppress them, and the one person daring enough to challenge their status, which leads to conflict that unsettles the very nature of American society, told in a smaller but not any less impactful format.

The 1960s were a decade based around revolution – both politically and socially, the world found itself coming to terms with new ideas. There were new streams of thoughts, and the people took power, objecting to any injustice they saw around them. Society is perpetually fighting for a better life for those who are marginalized or oppressed by the system in some way, but it was during this period that we saw some of the most substantial changes – and nothing says more about the state of society than the art produced during that time. Cool Hand Luke is a distinctive film based on several factors, specifically in how it takes this novel, which was already quite a remarkable piece of counter-culture literature and sets out to explore the deeper themes with much more consistency than we may have initially expected, which gives the film much more nuance and elegance than we thought at the outset. It is not a mistake that the film was made right at the height of the Vietnam War, which was the impetus for an entire generation of protestors to be born, their aim being essentially to challenge authority to the point where all their legitimate powers erode, leaving on the husk of an oppressive system behind. Cool Hand Luke uses these ideas to immensely captivating effect, telling a story in which many surprising moments are lurking around every corner, despite being something of a neophyte behind the camera, Rosenberg does well with the material, working closely with the cast and crew to create a film that makes its intentions very clear, which is extremely important for such a story – there isn’t much room for ambiguity during this period, with every artist being expected to take some kind of stance: either support freedom and advocate against violence, or become part of the institution squandering the nation’s potential, and it is extremely clear where Cool Hand Luke intended to situate itself.

Few actors defined a generation more than Paul Newman, one of the rare performers who commanded the screen both during the Golden Age as well as New Hollywood, where he delivered raw, earnest portrayals of the most complex characters. Lucas “Luke” Jackson is one of his crowning achievements – the perfect blend of wit and charm, and where Newman is allowed to play a more mischievous (but never immoral) character, something that was deemed as not being a good fit for an actor who was viewed as being more appropriately categorized in more heroic roles. There is nothing less valiant about the protagonist of Cool Hand Luke, other than the fact that he was given a harsh sentence for a meaningless, victimless crime, and Newman certainly takes advantage in all the ways that we might expect from someone given this role. It is one of his landmark performances, and he is as tremendous as ever – he oscillates the narrow line between likeable and mischievous, never forcing us to blindly like this character, and rather earning our trust along the way, which is a very impressive achievement that only someone like Newman could capture with such sincerity and honesty, which speaks a lot to his integrity as an actor. George Kennedy and Strother Martin lead the supporting cast, turning in exceptional performances that act as contradictory bookends to Newman’s work, the former playing the tough leader of the group of prisoners who initially challenges Luke before befriending him, while the latter is the hubristic warden whose efforts to run a tight ship are constantly derailed by this new prisoner, whose presence proves to be far more of a blight on his daily routine than anyone could have imagined. As both an individual character study and an ensemble piece, Cool Hand Luke is extremely compelling, shading in all the ambiguities with such incredible complexity, it’s bewildering to imagine that this was viewed as a majorly controversial film at the time.

Beyond the performances, there is a sense of complexity in how Cool Hand Luke focuses on specific subjects, particularly those revolving around the deeper parts of the story. While the novel does come across as quite serious, the film adaptation does draw attention to some of its more humorous underpinnings, which aren’t only the result of Newman’s fascinating performance, but also an active effort to look at this subject from several different perspectives, most of which are the subject of an immense amount of elaboration throughout this film. It’s not a lighthearted work, but it uses humour quite creatively – many other films set without labour camps, such as Stalag 17 and The Great Escape, this film intends to add layers of humour to a very dour and dark story, alleviating the tension and brightening the tone, albeit only to the point where it feels genuinely moving, rather than just being a cavalcade of disquieting moments set amongst these men who are brought together for a range of crimes, forced to pay the consequences for their actions, often falling into being subjected to cruel and unusual punishments, which are rendered as quite absurd in this film, being the source of some of its more provocative commentary. The decision to construct this film as a blend of humour and tragedy was a smart one, since it navigates both with such extraordinary impact, developing its ideas with precision and honesty, which is already quite an achievement for any film, and even more impressive considering the scope of what was being captured here, primarily how this film intended to capture the American psyche with only two hours to spare and a limited amount of resources, which all go towards creating an earnest and genuine atmosphere from which Cool Hand Luke liberally samples in its efforts to become much more complex in practice than it seems to be in theory, becoming a comedically-tinted drama that touches on some very important issues with tact and humour in an abundance. 

While films like In the Heat of the Night and The Graduate tend to encapsulate this banner year for filmmaking, especially since they remain far more relevant to the contemporary world, it is difficult to not find value in Cool Hand Luke, a film that is very simple yet extremely effective, going in pursuit of several deeply complex themes, navigating various areas of inquiry that make for profoundly fascinating viewing, even when it can sometimes veer towards being overwrought and predictable in a few moments. Rosenberg is a very good director, albeit one that is not viewed as being particularly memorable, but he easily adapts his style to fit the intentions and tone of whatever film he is helming, which makes him a strong candidate for this film, which is about the performances and screenplay more than it is the detailed direction, which is secondary but still quite important. Ultimately, it’s the message that means the most, and we watch in awe as these characters provide us with one of the most impactful stories of rebellion ever committed to film, showing that a revolution does not always take the form of massive protests, but can also come about through calculated subversion, challenging the institutions that oppress, and aiming to beat them at their own game, which is quite an achievement for any work that intends to go about exploring the world with this level of complexity. We watch as Newman takes command, rallying against the control established by these characters as they go about investigating their sense of self-respect and liberty. Darkly comedic in some parts, but also triumphant and a rallying call to arms for anyone who has even the smallest inkling for revolution, Cool Hand Luke is one of the defining films of the 1960s, an era where fighting the system was not only encouraged, but the moral responsibility of any self-respecting citizen, as shown throughout this film and the many similarly-themed works produced around this time.