The Sting

Paul Newman, Robert Redford, and George Roy Hill reteamed for 1973's The Sting, which was a smash hit and won seven Oscars, including Best Picture. Ironically, Redford was now the big star, while Newman, though still very famous, wasn't quite the draw he used to be. He found out about the movie accidentally, when Hill asked if he could rent Newman's Beverly Hills home. Newman asked Hill what he was up to and Hill responded, "I'm making a movie with Redford." Newman responded, "Anything in it for me?" Hill no doubt saw dollar signs floating around his head, and told Newman there was something for him, but it was the second lead. Newman asked to see the script anyway.

As written, the role of Henry Gondorff might have seemed wrong for Newman. Initially he was heavyset, not a matinee idol, and a washed up grifter living in a whorehouse. But Newman made it his own, and I find it to be an underrated performance. Redford got the Oscar nomination, but I'm not sure if Newman didn't steal the picture.

The Sting is the cinematic equivalent of light verse, a bit of cotton candy consumed on a holiday. From the opening credits, which introduce the music--Scott Joplin rags--and the title cards, which are made to suggest Saturday Evening Post covers, the viewer is immediately taken to a distinct time and place. Interestingly, the writer of the picture, David S. Ward, was against the use of Joplin music, as the film was set in the thirties and Joplin's ragtime was from around the turn of the century. Hill won out, though, telling Ward nobody would know that, and the music is probably one of the key elements that sells the picture so winningly. There's also masterful photography by Robert Surtees, production design by Henry Bumstead, and costumes by Edith Head.

The story involves con men and their games. Redford is a small-time hustler from Joliet who teams with an older black man (played by Robert Earl Jones, father of James Earl Jones). When they unwittingly con a bagman for a big-time hoodlum (Robert Shaw) they incur the wrath of his organization, and Jones is killed. Redford wants revenge, and goes to Chicago to look up Gondorff, master of the big con. They find Shaw's weakness, betting on the ponies, and construct an elaborate ruse to rid him of half a million dollars. Meanwhile, a bunco cop from Joliet (Charles Durning) is on Redford's tail.

We are told during the DVD extras that were no movies about con men until this one. I find that hard to believe, but if true there certainly have been a lot since then, such as House of Games, The Grifters, and Matchstick Men. The Sting is lighter in tone than those that follow, especially since their cause is righteous, and though they are crooks they are depicted in a manner befitting Robin Hood (though they certainly don't give the money to the poor). Because con men are essentially actors, there mechanisms work well on film. And toward the end of the film we discover that we the audience are also being conned, as characters may not be who we think they are. I remember the first time I saw this film, with my grandmother, and she had no idea what happened in the end.

When I was in college I went to hear a man talk about how to get jobs in the film industry. He mostly knew about the less glamorous world of industrial films, and kind of pooh-poohed his listeners' interest in directing features. But he did mention that The Sting was a first-class piece of work. It was perfectly shot, he said, without a wrong move in the entire film. Watching it again I'd have to agree. While the subject and tone are flimsy, the craftsmanship is unmistakable.

What's curious is that though are often thought of as a team, Newman and Redford would never make another film together.