The Manchurian Candidate is a film I’ve only seen the remake of. And while I know that that one is helmed by Jonathan Demme, I also know it doesn’t count. The original is one of the most beloved thrillers of all time and I have been troubled to find it in any of the plethora of streaming services I pay for over the years, as well as being hesitant that a black and white 60s film would be satisfying to watch. I’m glad to be wrong.
While a little slow to start, what really gripped me was the first brain washing sequence that cuts between the reality of what was going on with the soldiers, their perception of what they were sitting through, and how convoluted the dreams and memory of it all were. How the old, female speaker could be speaking to the communist watchers, or how the chairman could be in the garden club is a fascinating way to portray recall confusion. I loved the visual cues and specifically the editing (which it was rightfully nominated for) elaborated on how memory can so easily be misconstrued. Of course, the payoff took a long time to come and really dragged itself out. The Queen of Diamonds vehicle is wild, as is Frank Sinatra’s karate scene, but that last fourth of the film? Oh man, what an absolute banger. That final ascension into the booth as the climatic shot happens? Yeah, this film fucking rips.