Film Review: Joe (1970)

            Few films profited better from the 1968 scrapping of the production code as Joe (1970). The ability to approach the topical with a degree of realism is something directors could only have dreamed of in years past. Circumscribed by the Hays' Code, the cinema could only approach matters such as race, sexual abuse and blasphemy with a certain caution that often compromised the final product. Notable directors, such as Stanley Kubrick with Lolita (1962), found ways of undermining the authority of the censors via clever double entendres and other forms of sublimation. Joe is a film that could not have been made five years prior to its release in 1970; although it would have had just as much relevance to a 1965 audience as a 1970 audience.

             In regards to relevance, the film, although marred by certain elements that strike the viewer as incredible, is one that holds value for the contemporary audience. Joe is the story of William Compton, an upper-class Manhattan executive whose daughter, tiring of the limitations of her social class, is drawn into a relationship with a Greenwich Village drug dealer with whom she shares a scarcely habitable apartment. The daughter, played by the newcomer Susan Sarandon, is hospitalized as a result of her drug excesses. Her concerned father, whilst gathering her personal effects back at the apartment, becomes locked in a heated dispute with the reprobate boyfriend, killing him accidentally after a violent fisticuffs. Fleeing the scene and seeking immediate solace, the well-heeled executive finds himself at a decidedly low-brow drinking establishment. It is here where the audience is introduced to Joe, a foul-mouthed, cantankerous WWII veteran who, disregarding the feelings of anyone in earshot, offers a drunken rant outlining his contempt for homosexuals, blacks, liberals and hippies. The hate-filled oaf, at times a caricature, is pleased with the mumbled confession of Compton regarding the slaying of only an hour past. The two men form an unlikely bond that will take them through a culture they have instinctively scorned .

           Joe is memorable chiefly for the bold performance of Peter Boyle who was only 35 at the time of filming. Boyle conveys perfectly the frustrations of a middle-aged man left behind by a society increasingly influenced by the New Left. What weakens the film are several gaps in plausibility. One such example is the headline given to the murder of a low-level drug dealer by a major New York newspaper. It is here that Joe discovers that the bar patron whom he encountered the night before was indeed telling the truth. Other elements that detract from the credibility of the story are Joe's ability to find Compton through a telephone book listing of a common name in America's largest city. Such incredible elements only inflict minor damage to the film. The stellar performance of the lead, combined with the dark comedy of the script, are a winning formula.

         Joe may be looked upon by contemporary audiences as a relic of the late 1960s; however, recent strides made by the more reactionary elements of our society merit more careful analysis regarding its timeliness. Joe's palpable hatred for the counterculture is hardly dissimilar to the views expressed daily towards today's progressives. It is for that that Joe cannot be looked upon as an anachronistic form of entertainment. Although marred by plot holes, Joe is a worthwhile expenditure of one's time. One of its qualities is that it reminds us how, within our society, Joes, with their uninformed ranting and knee-jerk reactions, are not a part of our past, but our present. In addition, just as the cinematic Joe did not lack for companionship, his real-life heirs are rarely without company either, and that company represents a not-insignificant part of today's voting demographic.

Joe (1970)
107 minutes
Color
Directed by John G. Avildsen