Three Days of the Condor
Robert Redford has never matched in acting chops what he had in winsome charm, but he does deserve credit for investing himself so wholly in the paranoiac cinema of the 1970s. Between Watergate and 1980, Redford starred exclusively in films about good men who take on corrupt conspiracies (All the Presidentís Men, The Electric Horseman, Brubaker), and in its politics, at least, 1975ís Three Days of the Condor seems as relevant today as ever. Redford fails to elicit a single credible emotion as Joe Turner, a CIA researcher who goes on the lam after his entire office is assassinated, but thatís not the point. The point is that everyone he meets is in on something, and itís not clear what, from the freelance hit man heís running from (Max Von Sydow, fantastically menacing) to the CIA boss trying to bring him in from the cold (Cliff Robertson, afraid to muss his hair), though probably not the girl he kidnaps for cover (Faye Dunaway, the only actor who really showed up). Director Sydney Pollack applies his poor manís vťritť to good effect, allowing Redfordís paranoia to feel palpable, even today, and when you get to the Maguffin at the end when all the plots unravel, youíll swear 1975 was 2005.