By Erin Free
In this regular column, we drag forgotten made-for-TV movies out of the vault and into the light. This week: Michael Mann’s 1979 prison drama The Jericho Mile starring Peter Strauss.
82-year-old Michael Mann is one of the most distinctive, singular and truly compelling film directors working today. A rare talent who makes films on his own terms and never takes obvious “money jobs”, Mann’s resume is dotted with terse, tough-talking modern classics (Heat, The Insider), refreshing takes on dog-eared genres (The Last Of The Mohicans, Public Enemies), tense stand-alones (Collateral, Manhunter, Miami Vice) and bold, wide-canvas biopics (Ali, Ferrari). Even Mann’s less successful films (Blackhat, The Keep) are utterly watchable and fascinating in their own way. Mann’s debut feature film was 1981’s crime drama Thief, and it could very well still be his best…though many would likely argue with that. Visually audacious, this tough, stylish and richly cerebral thriller pits James Caan’s ruggedly individual and iconoclastic safe-cracker against a powerful criminal system, and in the process sets the template for much of Mann’s subsequent work.
Prior to the hard-edged, dark-hued cinematic diamond that is Thief, Michael Mann got appropriately warmed up with the 1979 telemovie The Jericho Mile, a similarly themed drama about a rugged individualist who faces the might of a powerful, oppressive system much bigger than he is. The man in question is Larry “Rain” Murphy (played beautifully and with stunning slow-burn intensity by Peter Strauss in one of his best performances), a convict doing life in Folsom Prison for killing his father, a sexual predator who had been raping his stepdaughter. A hard-bitten loner who studiously avoids the violent pitfalls and complex political powerplays of prison life, Murphy spends much of his time running at pace around the prison yard, where he is eventually noticed by the prison’s psychologist (Geoffrey Lewis) and warden (Billy Green Bush), who believe that the hard-charging and laser-focused Rain Murphy actually has what it takes to compete in the upcoming Olympic Trials.
This attention leads to tension in Folsom Prison as inmates are drafted in to create an Olympic-standard track so Murphy can make his bid to qualify. Despite his best efforts, the taciturn Murphy soon finds himself caught between sinister gang leader Dr. D (constantly wearing sunglasses, the hulking Brian Dennehy is truly fearsome in a wonderfully villainous role) and the equally tough Cotton Crown (Roger E. Mosley is highly effective and very far from playing Magnum PI’s nice guy TC here). Despite being backed by the prison warden and other supporters, Larry “Rain” Murphy eventually learns that the cog-heavy system driving The Olympic Games is even more deceitful and soul-destroying than the one that brutally defines Folsom Prison.
While the typical low budget and somewhat characteristic flat style of the 1970s American telemovie keeps Mann’s burgeoning visual dynamism at bay, The Jericho Mile really is a terrific film. It’s tough, soulful, and deeply affecting, and is so much more than just a footnote on Mann’s impressive filmography. Mann was brought onto the project when Peter Strauss (then a big star off the back of the hit TV mini-series Rich Man Poor Man) pulled it off the shelf at major TV network ABC, where it had sat unloved and ignored as a story idea courtesy of writer Patrick J. Nolan. Hungry for a challenge, Strauss was so happy with Mann’s gritty but sensitive reworking of the material that he petitioned ABC to give the young writer an opportunity to direct. Mann grabbed the opportunity with both hands and delivered a small screen belter of the first order.
Though devoid of many typical prison movie cliches (there are no “new fish” or shower room rape scenes here, partly and thankfully due to the largely chaste conditions of the vintage telemovie form), The Jericho Mile reverberates with real-world grit, with filming actually taking place within the oppressive walls of Folsom Prison itself. “There was violence around us,” Mann has said of the experience. “I thought that the actors would be terrified. I thought the crew would be okay, but the actors would be intimidated. It was just the other way around. The actors just kind of integrated with whoever they were playing.” The results are right there on the screen, with every scene packed with background action and every on-camera extra dripping with real-deal swagger and attitude.
Filled with vivid performances and rich detail, and capped with a thrilling sequence of bold defiance, The Jericho Mile rightly stands tall as one of the finest examples of the 1970s American telemovie. “Michael Mann is one of the finest directors I have ever worked with,” Peter Strauss said prior to the broadcast of The Jericho Mile. “If he asked me to do something that was the pits for me, I’d do it. Let’s see…what would be the pits? Three’s Company…I would do that for him. The Jericho Mile is not a film about prison or prison reform. There are no rape scenes in the shower, no banging of cups on dining room tables. It’s a study of a human being who is at the lowest point of our social structure, and it asks the audience to care about him…to find ways to create in him hope and expectation. It’s one of the most extraordinary films I have ever made for TV.”
Availability: Due to the fact that it was released on video and DVD, largely due to Michael Mann’s cache, The Jericho Mile is relatively easy to find online in a reasonably high-quality presentation.
