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Klute (1971)
 
Review
The first in Alan J. Pakula’s
retrospectively labelled “paranoia
trilogy” is an aesthetically bold and striking film
that pulls you into its uneasy world of sexual deviance, peeping
toms, and analogue surveillance. With its nifty camerawork,
unconventional storytelling, and horror-esque musical score,
Klute is arguably Pakula’s most experimental film – and as such
in many ways a staple of the New Hollywood era. It’s also a fine
example of early modern feminism in film, thanks to Jane Fonda’s
three-dimensional performance as the high-end call girl Bree
Daniels. The segments in which she discusses her lifestyle and inner
musings with her shrink add a modern, analytical layer, and through
the relationship with Donald Sutherland’s mellow, atypical hero, the
film taps into post-sexual-revolution gender roles with sensitive
foresight. Only the finale, when the film returns too heavily to its
genre roots and the perpetrator confesses his wickedness like a
sneering cartoon character, does the suspension of disbelief begin
to fray. Still, this somewhat unsatisfactory ending cannot nullify
the film's pioneering achievement.
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