
Detective fiction has been one of the most popular sub-genres of literature and cinema for over a century – going from the days of the penny dreadful to the era of pulp fiction and television procedurals, audiences have always responded with incredible vigour to stories of resourceful investigators set out to solve cases that seem impossible from a distance, but eventually become much more obvious once it is filtered through their distinct set of skills. One of the great literary creators of the 20th century in this regard is Lew Archer, a down-on-his-luck Californian private eye who defies all conventions and proved to be an exceptionally talented investigator in a series of novels written by Ross Macdonald, who eventually optioned off the rights to one of the most popular books featuring the characters, The Moving Target, which was made in Harper (in which the central character’s name is changed to Lew Harper), adapted by screenwriter William Goldman and director Jack Smight, who collaborate to give the character his first foray into cinema. The premise is simple – the titular detective is hired by a wealthy socialite to find her husband, who has gone missing without a trace and who she suspects has been targetted for his immense wealth. It seems like a cut-and-dry case until he begins to dig deeper beneath the surface and unlocks some truly sinister information that sends him down a rabbit hole that involves quite a shocking series of conspiracies, each one somehow bringing him a step closer to finding the answers but also pushing him further into the clutches of what is a much more challenging situation than he could have ever anticipated. A thrilling, captivating blend of ideas, put together with precision and rapid-fire consistency by a tremendous writer-director team, Harper more than earns its place in the canon of detective stories and is certainly ripe for rediscovery, particularly for those who have a penchant for this kind of unorthodox narrative.
Harper exists at the tail-end of the golden age of film noir, where the genre was still functioning from a very traditional set of qualities but gradually becoming more experimental and subversive. Films like this can be considered works that bridge the gap between the classical period and the emergence of neo-noir, particularly in how they often rely on the themes present in the traditional works but filtered through a more subversive and daring lens. Smight had crafted quite a solid body of work at the time, being behind some terrific films that may not have been defined by any discernible authorial vision but had a consistency and charm that made them wickedly entertaining and oddly quite engaging in a way that we find has defied the march of time. Harper is probably the closest he ever got to making a signature work, which is a credit to both his unique style and Goldman’s script, which Smight cobbles together into quite an engaging, masterfully structured film noir that contains all the best qualities of the genre, as well as several elements that would go on to define it in future decades. A simple premise that grows exponentially more complex as the film progresses is very common for this period, and when we factor in the underlying social and political commentary that hints at the cultural zeitgeist, which is seamlessly woven into a narrative that may have had its roots in the late 1940s when Macdonald wrote the novel on which the film was based, but which is easily adapted to an entirely new set of ideas. The growing incredulity towards government and its supposed efforts to serve in the best interests are reflected throughout this film, which uses a relatively simple concept to interrogate the nature of society and how it tends to use an unspoken structure to define who wields the most power, which we all know has more to do with influence than actual material wealth or political sway. Using a very common set of themes, Harper creates a fascinating dynamic that touches on several provocative themes, each one perfectly placed into the fabric of this exceptional film.
The role of Lew Harper is certainly a good one, and it required an actor who could meet all the fundamental criteria to play the character – an easygoing, suave attitude complemented by a fierce intelligence and cunning shrewdness that could give the likes of Phillip Marlowe and Sam Spade a run for their money, while also not just being a derivative of those anti-heroes that populated many classics of hardboiled detective fiction. It felt like a natural choice for Paul Newman to step into this role since he spent so much of his career playing parts that went up against the mythos of masculinity, taking on many archetypes in a range of genres, using his unique set of talents to question and subvert common depictions of heroism. Harper is not a particularly challenging role since a lot of it simply involves Newman moving from one space to another, using his inborn charisma to play this dashing but fiercely interesting individual – but yet he is so captivating throughout, bringing a gravitas to the role that proved to be extraordinary in many ways. Part of the appeal of Harper comes in the supporting cast – Smight enlists several terrific actors to play parts in the ensemble, including Lauren Bacall in a delightfully deranged throwback to her era of femmes fatale in the films that inspired this one, and Shelley Winters in a scene-stealing comedic role that brings both a levity and sadness to the film through the role she plays in the narrative. Janet Leigh has exceptional chemistry with Newman, which is immensely ironic considering so much of the film is about their characters going through a divorce, and several journeyman character actors such as Strother Martin, Arthur Hill, and Julie Harris populate key roles and bring a unique sensibility to a film that only benefits from such solid, interesting work across the board. Yet, it’s still Newman that proves to be the key point of attraction and remains the primary reason to seek out this film, which is certainly warranted considering how much of the story revolves around using his charisma and debonair allure.
Something that has always been quite fascinating about this particular era of detective fiction and film noir is the fact that so many of these works contain labyrinthine, complex plots that are filled with twists, yet they’re always operating from a very straightforward, almost rudimentary, set of storytelling techniques. Simplicity is the key to the success of these stories, especially since it has been shown that the best works are those which take the core premise and allow it to grow into something much more complex and engaging without sacrificing any of the nuance that comes with a more subtle narrative, making it one of the few genres where something more pedestrian is a merit. Considering the amount of narrative turns this film takes, keeping a more consistent atmosphere is vital to ensuring we are never confused and instead can easily follow the film as it leaps between ideas and presents us with something much more engaging than simply two hours of wall-to-wall confusion. Harper is best described as a relatively straightforward throwback to the peak of film noir (although perhaps viewing it as a retrospective tribute is slightly inaccurate since this version of the genre had not entirely disappeared just yet), accompanied by a touch of modernity that makes it genuinely quite intriguing and engaging in many ways. The film moves at a fast pace, finding a good momentum that feels quite appropriate given the constraints of the material, and gradually unravels itself to be a fascinating demonstration of a particular era in American history, merging several different ideas to create an engaging and captivating detective narrative that has an intriguing amount of depth, much more than we would expect from a genre that has proven to be the source of some terrific commentary over the years.
Harper is the kind of film that immediately captures our attention from the first moment and somehow manages to resist all cliches, maintaining our focus and keeping us thoroughly invested until its final sequence, which is quite a rare achievement for a film that takes this many twists and turns. We become instantly immersed in the world of this film, which is an upbeat, entertaining thriller with an abundance of humour and pathos in equal measure, making it a much less dour experience than it could have been in the hands of someone who didn’t see the potential to make it a truly enjoyable experience. Newman is at the peak of his talents, and while he isn’t doing, particularly revolutionary work, there is an allure to his performance that keeps us invested, and which is helped along by a terrific supporting cast that provides him with the necessary material to enrich this performance and make the entire film a more detailed affair as a whole. There’s something so intriguing about a solidly-made detective film, especially one in which we don’t have any idea of the direction in which it is going to go, and while it isn’t entirely defined by its shocking twists, there is a sense of suspense that punctuates the film and makes it such a delightful affair, even in the more obvious moments. Entertaining to a fault and frequently quite daring in ways that we may not expect, Harper is a lot of fun and essential viewing for devotees to either Newman or a very particular era in detective fiction, namely the bridge between the two periods, leading to quite an enthralling and compelling exercise in film noir conventions.