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d. Robert M. Young; pr. Lewis Harris, Robert M. Young; scr. Miguel Pinero; play. Miguel Pinero; ph. Peter Sova; m. Curtis Mayfield; ed. Edward Beyer; cast. Bruce Davison, Miguel Pinero, Tito Goya, Jose Perez, Luis Guzman, Nathan George, Don Blakely, Freddie Fender, Curtis Mayfield (100 mins)

After a brief period in limited distribution, Robert M. Young’s remarkable film of Miguel Pinero’s play Short Eyes virtually disappeared from sight, only revived quite recently due to some retrospective festival interest.

Notorious at the time for being shot on location in the Manhattan House of Detention known as “the Tombs”, Short Eyes is one of the rawest prison dramas ever filmed. This spark of authenticity comes from playwright, convict and junkie Miguel Pinero. Pinero wrote the original play whilst in prison in Sing-Sing and it was since nominated for a Tony Award before drawing interest from Hollywood. Pinero and his friend Tito Goya, who also appears in the film in a key role, had in the meantime opened the so-called “Nuyorican Poet’s Café” and indeed over time Pinero (who would go on to write other plays, poems and star regularly on television in Miami Vice) became a dominant figure in the emerging Puerto-Rican / Hispanic-American urban subculture. His voice is unique amongst American playwrights and his criminal self-destructiveness is taken by many to have robbed him of his ultimate potential. Pinero’s life and work are beginning to get serious re-appraisal and his life was the subject of a recent bio-pic, Pinero, directed by Leon Ichaso and starring Benjamin Bratt. Nevertheless, it is Short Eyes that is considered his strongest work and its cinematic adaptation is a striking achievement.

Short Eyes takes place inside a men’s detention centre. As a stage adaptation, it stays necessarily true to that one setting.

A number of prisoners interact in their daily routine, amongst them a proud and seemingly humane man (Jose Perez) who has taken it upon himself to offer guidance to an effeminate prisoner (Tito Goya) who is lusted after by many of the other convicts. The prison is clearly divided amongst racial lines, with Hispanics and Afro-Americans the majority of prisoners, and strict rules of conduct and interaction have hence developed. One day, a routine group of detainees are introduced into the cell block, amongst them one of the few white prisoners, a seemingly meek and mild Bruce Davison. A callous prison guard soon deliberately lets it be known to the other inmates that Davison is a “short eyes”, prison slang for a child molester, and the offers of friendship that initially greeted him are quickly withdrawn. In turn, Davison soon becomes an easy object of contempt and scorn for the other prisoners. Alone with Perez, Davison makes a striking and pathetic confession of his aberrant and monstrous crimes and seems a tortured, hopeless and even helpless figure. Perez is full of loathing for the man but is soon faced with an unusual dilemma as he wonders whether to prevent the other prisoners from enacting a final form of prison justice against this man lest he actually be released.

Short Eyes is a complex film concerning what has been described as moral responsibility in prison. It is exacting about its conception of prison socialization and its unique dilemma of potency.

Indeed, the film is aware of the hierarchies and often ironic codes of morality that develop in prison: hence the practice and acceptance of forced homosexuality is held in juxtaposition to the contempt for Davison, so that prison morality becomes an absurd revision of moral standards. Nevertheless, what is developed strongly is the almost cathartic nature of what is considered focused hatred.

The prisoners in their loathing for the child molester are able to momentarily set aside their differences and even unite under a single moral absolute – perhaps the one unassailable moral standard they have left.

However, Pinero undercuts this irony further by having these proud and ironically self-righteously moral men descend into a murderous lynch mob. The pressures and tensions of life in confinement thus build to the one moment of catharsis – the punishment of the ultimate moral transgressor – as if this somehow sets things right in a world where morality has been irredeemably distorted. Social Darwinism aside, director Young is careful to contrast the build-up of energies with the almost post-coital calm that follows Davison’s ultimate judgment (ironically at the hands of the same man who initially offered him some friendship).

Short Eyes achieves an immediacy and authenticity that is stark, intricate and telling. In this world, men must cling to proud, violent and boastful illusions about themselves in order to survive.

Only Perez has been able to deal with his repressed anger and the malfunctioning socialization around him: thus, in him the film finds a moral anchor. Young hence makes the audience share Perez’ outrage at Davison’s crimes but also his awareness of the need for a humane response, even if he cannot prevent the prison’s dehumanizing code of justice from “triumphing”. Prejudice and the monstrous moral absolute depicted are in essence the last vestige of pride in a prison society wherein the need to demonize gives the illusion of power, individuality and moral (or racial) superiority. The centre-piece of the film is thus Davison’s confession, for it places the viewer in the position of judge, the remainder of the film in effect testing how far the viewer’s presumed humanity may be eroded by their contempt – how much will the viewer finally condone? Does that in effect imprison them? In that, it examines the ambiguous nature of humanity and in its depiction of the oddly sympathetic pedophile as a scapegoat it is not an easy film, nor does it seek to answer this moral dilemma. As such, it is one of the most provocative prison films ever made – it is perhaps no wonder that Pinero has been referred to as an American Jean Genet.

The anamorphic widescreen transfer, a new high definition re-master, is quite remarkable considering the age of the source material, and the frequent signs of wear contribute to the docudrama rawness. Young’s direction of actors and his compositional sense is outstanding and the mounting pressure of men in confinement is exceptionally well handled. It favors a naturalistic approach, capable of visualizing a grim prison determinism which Perez alone struggles against (and even seeks to save Goya from, as he knows Goya can recognize it but is a weaker man and easily sexually intimidated). The film is very frank and confronting about homosexuality in prison. The transfer is grainy and may look somewhat greasy as colors are rusty and it has frequent frame edge problems but mostly it rings true within a realistically impersonal and effectively institutional lighting design. Likewise, the film’s pace slyly captures the rhythms and limited movements of this unusual lifestyle – removed from society but with its own strict social codes of behavior. Young is able to realize a style favoring immediacy and even manages an intensifying nervousness to this collapsed socialization. He creates a deliberately uncomfortable experience, the film grimy and unattractive, visually true to an ugly world; with the devastating irony of Davison facing his horrific comeuppance at the site where cockroaches were earlier killed.

Sound
The sound is again remarkable given the limitations of the original source material. It has been superbly upgraded into the age of home theatre, the Dolby Digital 5.1 transfer adapting the film to the new medium without losing any of its intended effects, and indeed subtly enhancing them as the increased clarity levels make for an added immersion in the prison environment. Despite these enhancements, however, it is quite centered. The score by Curtis Mayfield adds to the film’s cult reputation (even though the appearance by Mayfield and singer Freddie Fender may seem arbitrary) but the bulk of the film stresses dialogue and naturally occurring, authentic sounds. This contributes to the overall naturalism of the piece, with the actors superbly demonstrating the desperate need for these men to hold onto any form of illusory pride, hence their heightened behavior as if they all have something to prove (unable to resolve their inner hostility except in the demonization of Davison). The sound thus enhances the immediacy and nervous tension amidst the drab surroundings. Most telling is the momentary quiet and contentment that follows the final treatment of Davison, as if this has truly been a ritually cathartic act in the inmates’ confined existence. Davison’s delicate, whiny voice nicely underscores the enigmatic balance of pathetic self-pitying torment and monstrous aberration at the heart of his character.

There are several special features, including filmographies, website links and previews for Ran, Russian Ark and Pola X. Of main focus is the commentary track by director Young and filmmaker Leon Ichaso. Discussed are: how the film came about, how Young came late to the project, how the script was written on the spot for much of it, Pinero’s actual involvement in the film version, the use of real criminals and of the film’s importance in de-mystifying the Spanish-American experience. Young talks about his approach to filmmaking and of how he considers the film to be “experiential” in the effort to put the audience inside the experiences and conflicts he depicts. They talk of the understated accumulation of terror and about the film as essentially concerning the threat of violence (finally exploding). Young talks of the film’s limited funding, of Curtis Mayfield’s sponsorship (which necessitated his brief acting presence) and of the film’s abysmal distribution. The commentary features much discussion of Pinero and Goya’s personal life and of the film’s place within their world-view and sexuality. Young reveals that his main interest lies in observing human behavior and that he prefers single camera setups and successive camera placements to any traditional master shots or coverage. Needed mention is also made of the important notions of “psychological violence” and moral responsibility in prison.