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Jun 17, 2024 Web Exclusive By Austin Trunick

Maybe it’s futile to synopsize Chinatown (1974), not only because unraveling too much of its labyrinthine plot would spoil its many surprises, but because many out there already know the story by heart. Nominated for eleven Oscars but only winning one—mostly due to its poor fortune of having to compete with The Godfather: Part II in most of those categories—Chinatown holds the lofty, yet well-earned, reputation of being one of the best films of its decade, and a frontrunner for the greatest neo-noir of all time.

“Most people never have to face the fact that at the right time, and in the right place, they’re capable of anything.”

Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson) runs a detective agency in late-‘30s Los Angeles. A woman hires him to investigate her husband’s extramarital activities, a normal-enough sounding job. When the affair he uncovers makes the front page of the city papers, the man’s actual wife, Evelyn Mulwray (Faye Dunaway), storms into Gittes’ office threatening a lawsuit. Unable to let the case go, Gittes sets out to find out why he was duped, and who would want to discredit a minor city official. He gradually discovers the small part he’s played in a scheme far larger than a common man could begin to comprehend.

It’s a puzzle that keeps viewers engaged until the very end, with a sense of danger that builds as Gittes gets closer to the truth. Screenwriter Robert Towne deserves all the accolades he received for creating these characters, constructing the world, and spinning this mystery—looking to L.A.’s historic water wars of the 1920s for inspiration—but it was Roman Polanski who reshaped Chinatown into the classic it’s regarded as today. The director excised Gittes’ narration, and rearranged the script to follow him exclusively so that the audience never has more information than the detective. We never see the villains plotting, or the goons lurking in the shadows until they start shooting at our hero. The effect is a mystery that’s more immersive than most (and works so well that it begins to feel odd that more thrillers don’t unfold this way.)

What puts this over the top is Nicholson’s performances as Gittes. The character is clever and quick-thinking—but foolhardy, rash, and prideful. It’s hard to guess where his loyalties lie from one scene to the next. He’s willing to turn on someone the moment evidence starts pointing in an opposite direction, yet never seems overly concerned about his own survival. Gittes is offered numerous chances to walk away, some of them lucrative, but never takes them—and you’re never sure if it’s out of compassion, or the somewhat less noble fear of being made to look foolish.

But what really might make Chinatown hard to shake is the way it makes its hero feel so small. Where most cinematic heroes get to shape their own stories for the most part, Gittes grows more and more powerless in the grand scheme that he finds himself increasingly wrapped up in. Towne described Chinatown’s theme as being about “the futility of good intentions,” and you feel that all the way through the film’s final minutes (the chilling ending was another of Polanski’s contributions to the shooting script).

Paramount brings Chinatown to 4K just in time for its 50th anniversary. Presentation-wise, it’s excellent. The increased detail makes things like the period décor more appreciable, and we didn’t encounter any of the over-scrubbing found in some other studio catalog releases. Save for a few scenes, Chinatown isn’t an exceptionally colorful movie, and the HDR here is suitably reserved—even the neon signs in Chinatown itself feel muted, but right for the color tone of the movie. Fans should be pleased with the film-like presentation.

The discs are packed with bonus features, including a handful of newly-produced interviews with The Big Goodbye: Chinatown and the Last Years of Hollywood author Sam Wasson and the film’s orginal AD, Hawk Koch. The release’s biggest inclusion is the entirety of The Two Jakes, the 1990 sequel to Chinatown directed by Nicholson himself. It’s not great—perhaps the production history (the movie was nearly made for Cannon in the mid-‘80s) is more interesting than the film itself—but it’s a very welcome inclusion on the set’s Blu-ray disc.

(www.paramountmovies.com/movies/chinatown)