"The Shawshank Redemption" (1994)

Frank Darabont’s great, engrossing prison drama “The Shawshank Redemption” is one of Hollywood’s unlikeliest success stories. 

On its initial release, it bombed at the box office.  Moviegoers were put off by the film’s title, described as “enigmatic” by one critic: many could not remember the title, or couldn’t pronounce it.  Even Stephen King, on whose novella “Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption” the film was based, did not think his story was especially cinematic when he granted Darabont permission to write the screenplay. Viewers had the impression that the movie, starring Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman, might be heavy on suffering, and too depressing.  And “Shawshank…” had the misfortune to be released at the same time that another film garnered much media attention and audience enthusiasm: “Pulp Fiction”. 

When “The Shawshank Redemption” earned seven Oscar nominations, including for Best Picture and for Freeman as Best Actor, home viewers started to take notice.  Although it won no Oscars, it was re-released to theaters, to moderate success.  Soon it became a popular home video rental (then on VHS tape). The new Ted Turner cable network, TNT, aired the film regularly, allowing viewers to check it out and give it a chance.  It developed a reputation as an exciting and moving film, a “tear-jerker for men”, and is now well-liked by contemporary audiences and critics.

The film is made in a classic Hollywood style, without cutting-edge camerawork or technique. It has a solid (if rambling) script, filmed with the utmost care and craftsmanship, an example of old-fashioned “invisible” cinema, where plot and character are most important, and with a moral to boot.

The story develops slowly, but becomes more gripping and involving as it moves along.  In 1947, Andy (Tim Robbins), a brainy and well-to-do bank president, is falsely accused of murdering his cheating wife and her lover.  He is sentenced to two consecutive life terms at Shawshank Prison, headed by a corrupt Warden and a cruel master of the guards.  

Andy befriends Red (Morgan Freeman), a petty thief who can get anything through the black market.  Over a span of almost twenty years, Red (who in the original book was actually a red-headed Irishman) helps Andy get things he needs, like large posters of Rita Hayworth and Raquel Welch, and a small hammer for his “rock-collecting” hobby.  In return, Andy gives the cynical Red, who is repeatedly rejected at his parole hearings, a reason for hope.

Subplots abound, enriching the story here, slowing it down there.  The best one has the Warden remove Andy from the drudgery of laundry duty, and reassigning him to assist an aging lifer named Brooks in the prison library. While there, Andy helps the guards with finances and tax shelters, and reluctantly assists the Warden with illegal money-laundering (setting up a nifty turnabout). 

Andy also relentlessly lobbies the state for funds and donations for the library; books and records pour in. He soon becomes well-liked by many of the inmates, while he (in a secret kept even from us) plans his escape.

Words are very important to this film. The movie relies heavily on spoken narration to disclose what characters are thinking and feeling.  Watching “The Shawshank Redemption” is like hunkering down with an illustrated novel: the pleasures one gets from it are similar to those we get from reading.  There’s even that plot thread about the prison library, where books are used for entertainment, education, and delivery of contraband.  In a time when more people have more time to read, this movie might find a new wave of popularity.

It is Red who narrates the movie.  After the opening, where the film seems like it will, in fact, be brutal and depressing, Freeman’s voice gives us a feeling of safety, of calm, of reason.  When the intensity threatens to alienate us, Freeman’s voice soothes us into the next scene, or breaks the tension with a quip.  Doesn’t our collective psyche need this kind of calm reassurance now?

Freeman gives a natural, convincing performance as Red.  It is fun to see the progression of his character, punctuated by his parole hearings.  Freeman is believable, and we trust him. Robbins, as Andy, is physically right as the tall, soft-spoken mystery-man, who earns the respect of his fellow prisoners. 

The first act of kindness in “The Shawshank Redemption” happens about 20 minutes in, during the first scene in the mess hall.  Veteran actor James Whitmore, as Brooks, takes a maggot from Andy’s rancid food and feeds it to a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. 

It is a real pleasure to see Whitmore again, giving a great performance in a tragic role.  Whitmore, a character actor in many films through the 1940s and beyond, brought the same kind of calm, self-confident presence to the big screen that Freeman does today.  It’s a fitting pass of the baton.

The movie is sincere and entertaining, and it is refreshing to see some old-style filmmaking in this era of tent-pole, attention-deficit moviemaking.

I still might have changed a few things:  the script needs tightening; we need to know the details of Andy’s innocence sooner; the crash of thunder while Andy is in the sewers is a bit coincidental; and his arms outstretched in the rain is obviously symbolic (although the rest of of this sequence is taut and thrilling).

I would also dispense with the subplot involving a gang called The Sisters, who are intent on raping attractive new prisoners like Andy.   When Andy states that he is “not a homosexual”, Red wisely replies that neither are the Sisters: “you have to be human first” (and although unlikely coming from an inmate in a 1940s prison, it is a welcome sentiment, and believable coming from Freeman).

Comparing a movie about prison incarceration to our pandemic situation is almost too easy.  For many, the stay-at-home orders feel like an indefinite imprisonment.  But “The Shawshank Redemption”, from its premise to its dialog, provides an uncanny parallel to this period of crisis, and a reasonable expectation of hope on the other side of it.

--When Andy first enters his cell, Red comments that his “old life is blown away in the blink of an eye.”  I have felt like this sometimes, wishing I could go back to the old routine. It’s not just the changes, which I think I’m reasonably accepting.  It’s the suddenness, and the uncertainty. It’s a prolonged, low-grade feeling of loss, like discovering that someone close to you has just died, and the shock lingers.

--Andy spends a week in solitary confinement after playing an opera recording over the prison loudspeakers.  He emerges a week later, explaining that the music got him through the ordeal, that the music in his head could not be taken away.   Red dismisses this, saying that “hope is a dangerous thing”.  I’ve gone back and forth on this too, and finally remind myself that there are some things that get us through, that cannot change or be taken away, like solid relationships, and nature around us. 

--In his narration, Red says that “prison time is slow time. You do what you can to keep going.”  That struck a nerve, too.  Prolonged confinement close to home can be slow, unless you can fill it with things to keep going.  Or, in the film’s most quoted line: “Get busy living, or get busy dying.”

--Andy reveals his dreams about reaching the Pacific Ocean, living there, and putting the rest behind him. He describes the ocean as “a place with no memory”.  If only I could completely forget this whole ordeal, too.

--Later on, when Red’s life changes dramatically, he says something that maybe articulates something for a lot of us: “It’s a terrible thing to live in fear. All I want is to be back where things make sense, so that I won’t have to be afraid all the time.”  Monotony mixed with anxiety must be the norm of imprisonment.  It’s a new norm for a lot of folks today, too. 

As the film wraps up, and Red wonders whether he will meet Andy again, he utters a line that struck a personal nerve:

“I hope to see my friend, and shake his hand”.

Although it has been said that the handshake is dead, I do believe we can return to a day when we are no longer afraid to clasp the hands of our friends, old and new. 

“I hope”.