Fast Break

By F.R.

ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ Directed by Don Siegel Screenplay by Richard Tuggle

If there is such a thing as a foolproof movie, Escape from Alcatraz must be it. Throw together Clint Eastwood, an airtight jailbreak plot, a first-rate storyteller like Director Don Siegel ... and what could possibly go wrong? As it happens, almost nothing. True, Escape from Alcatraz embraces virtually every cliche known to prison movies. Eastwood does not exactly break new ground as an actor either. Yet this film's familiarity ends by breeding affection rather than contempt. When an old-fashioned genre piece is executed with spirit, audiences can rediscover the simple, classic pleasures of moviegoing.

Richard Tuggle, a first-tune screen writer, has based his script on the real-life exploits of Frank Morris, a convict who fled Alcatraz with two buddies in 1962 and was never heard from again.

Tuggle's approach to his tale is refresh ingly hardheaded; he does not bother with psychological attitudinizing, superfluous subplots or forced comic relief. Once he has introduced us to his characters, as well as to Alcatraz's labyrinthal layout and elaborate security procedures, he unveils his puzzle: How do a few unarmed, heavily guarded cons break out of a maximum-security fortress surrounded by the treacherous waters of San Francisco Bay? The answer to this question proves to be as ingenious, precise and exciting as one might wish. There are no fudged details or deus ex machina plot developments to nudge the story to its climax.

Along the way Tuggle takes a risk by surrounding Morris (Eastwood) with some of the most sentimentalized movie prisoners imaginable. There is an old-tuner called Doc (Roberts Blossom), who raises chrysanthemums and paints portraits, not to mention a literary librarian (Paul Benjamin) and a cuddly Italian (Frank Ronzio) with a pet mouse. Next to these lovable guys, an average Boy Scout troop would seem like a bunch of Bowery bums. The warden (Patrick McGoohan), of course, is a sadistic horror. He speaks in malevolent epigrams ("Some are never destined to leave Alcatraz -- alive") and carries on what appears to be a kinky relationship with his pocket nail clipper.

What redeems these stereotypes is the controlled, idiosyncratic performances of a superb supporting cast. Director Siegel (Dirty Harry) never lets an actor go overboard. The same lean quality is visible in his film making. With the help of Bruce Surtees' elegant, metallic-hued cinematography, Siegel makes every point as economically as possible. His style is the visual equivalent of John D. MacDonald's prose, which serves this kind of material well. The tension builds so naturally that neither hokey music or contrived menace is necessary. Only once does Siegel lose control -- in a jarringly graphic finger-chopping scene that lit erally and figuratively sticks out like a sore thumb.

Alcatraz's cool, cinematic grace meshes ideally with the strengths of its star. Not a man to sell himself to the audience, Eastwood relies on a small as sortment of steely glances and sardonic smiles. Thanks to his ever craggier face, the gestures pay off better than usual, and so do the occasional throwaway laugh lines. At a time when Hollywood entertainments are more overblown than ever, Eastwood proves that less really can be more.

F.R.

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