CARNAL KNOWLEDGE (Criterion)

Carnal Knowledge
Criterion
June 30th, 1971

Written by Jules Feiffer
Directed by Mike Nichols
Starring Jack Nicholson, Art Garfunkel, Candice Bergen, Ann-Margaret, Rita Moreno
English

Buy it HERE from Diabolik or HERE from Criterion

by "Doc" Hunter Bush, Staff Writer and Podcast Director

The Movie: Excellent

Carnal Knowledge blew my mind. All I really knew going into this, aside from the pedigree of the cast and crew, was the whole censorship debacle which ultimately resulted in the film being re-released with a new tagline: "The United States Supreme Court has ruled that Carnal Knowledge is not obscene. See it now!" As a result of that, I knew this was sexually candid but not necessarily explicit. What I didn't expect was an examination of what is now recognized as toxic masculinity from a 54 year-old film that's also expressly feminist, and wildly understated. The dialogue showcases screenwriter Jules Feiffer's razor sharp knack for observation, the performances are incredibly magnetic, and the filmmaking from director Mike Nichols and editor Sam O'Steen allows for plenty of room for the actors to shine.

Sandy (Art Garfunkel) and John (Jack Nicholson) are college roommates who bond by talking about sex and love. John is the more vulgar of the two, goading Sandy to push girlfriend Susan (Candice Bergen) for more action. Once Sandy informs him he's finally getting somewhere with her, John calls her up himself, and they begin an affair. At this point, I thought we were going to have a basic love-triangle story with Susan enjoying the connection she shares with Sandy, but also responding to the sensuality of John while both of the men yearn for the kind of relationship with her that the other has. But then something magical happens. The film just casually slips forward in time. No subtitles to denote the jump, nothing aside from John & Sandy's change in appearance and their dialogue. 

This trust in the audience is emblematic of the steady hand behind the camera. Drawing on Feiffer's background as a cartoonist--his weekly strip in The Village Voice ran for forty years!--Nichols utilizes long takes of characters talking (frequently all but directly to camera), rarely cutting away for coverage of the other person. He also tends towards long shots of the women as the men talk, allowing us to experience these outwardly mundane conversations through them as they process what is being said, and said about them. For a movie that on the surface seems obsessed with men & maleness, this is a powerfully feminist filmmaking choice.

Carnal Knowledge is not a film everyone will enjoy watching. It is at times ugly, revealing, explicit and embarrassing. Not unlike the titular characters in Mikey and Nicky (1976, dir. Elaine May) neither of our leading men are especially likeable, but they're sadly all too common. Fun fact: Mike Nichols and Elaine May were the influential comedy duo Nichols and May from '59-'62. Even at 54 years on, this kind of warts-and-all look at toxic masculinity is perhaps even more important that it was at release.

Culturally we're at a low point in the pursuit of equality, respect, and safety for anyone not represented by this type of well-off white men. Carnal Knowledge doesn't offer any answers. How could it? But it also doesn't soften these men or their slide into irrelevance any; it doesn't let them off the hook. Depiction, importantly, does not equal endorsement.

The Packaging: Good

This is your typical Criterion release, which is by-and-large pretty damn good. If you're unfamiliar, their cases are a little larger than the standard Blu-ray, a little sturdier and more durable. The cover wouldn’t feel out of place had it been the poster in 1971, with its muted, autumnal palette and four head shots. It also has an image on the inside of Jack Nicholson sitting naked, smoking a cigarette, in an armchair.

This version also comes with a 40-page booklet featuring an essay from Moira Weigel and an article from Herb A. Lightman which features conversations with cinematographer Giuseppe Rotunno and production designer Richard Sylbert (originally published in the January 1971 issue of American Cinematographer). Weigel's essay especially resonated with me, affirming some of my feelings about the film and elucidating other facets I wasn't considering. These kinds of additional materials are really what's important about re/releasing older films. Cultural and social context are incredibly vital aspects to make clear for new viewers.

The Audio + Video: Excellent

I had no issues with either the audio or visual presentation. There is some film grain, and a certain very slight muffling to the audio, but both of those are merely signs of having been made in a bygone era. They add a sensory warmth to the whole experience for me, while looking and sounding perhaps as good as the film ever has. With a film as dialogue-centric as this one is, you want to make sure things sound as good as possible, and let me assure you: this does.

The included booklet has a paragraph about the audio & video mastering that underlines a very important elephant in the room: this master was created using the 35mm separation masters because the original camera negative had become too damaged and moldy. Film preservation is such an important undertaking, as is, I feel, owning and making available all varieties of film.

Special Features: Excellent

I recently wrote about Criterion's release of The Wiz and lamented the lack of some theoretical special features to add greater context to the film. In contrast, Carnal Knowledge is a wealth of context. The two half-hour-ish conversations were very interesting, even though I find Jason Reitman somewhat tedious. The piece focusing on the editing was extremely enlightening and gave me an added dimension to keep an eye on during my rewatch with commentary, which I am very thankful for because the editing is so subtle and unflashy that it might otherwise have passed me by. As it stands, the editing is one of my favorite parts of the film. But my favorite of these materials was definitely the podcast with Jules Feiffer, who I found to be incredibly entertaining and fascinating.

• Commentary track from filmmaker and playwright Neil LaBute
• A conversation between Mark Harris (Mike Nichols' biographer) and film critic Dana Stevens (29:04)
• A conversation between Mike Nichols and director Jason Reitman (36:02)
  
• An episode of the To Live & Dialogue podcast w/Jules Feiffer (43:20)
• Bobbie O'Steen on the editing (19:15)
• Trailer (0:57)
• Radio spot (0:59)

In Summary: Must Own

There are any number of good reasons to own Criterion's Carnal Knowledge release. The acting, direction, screenwriting, and editing are all masterclass-level examples of their respective craft. The story here is frequently uncomfortable, but nonetheless riveting. But for me, I think the best reason might be spite.

Personally, I rankle at outside entities trying to control what entertainments I can and cannot access, and as I mentioned above, when Carnal Knowledge was initially released, it screened at a theater in Georgia resulting in an obscenity case that took about two years to resolve, and went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, where it was, and I cannot stress this enough, found not to be anything you could call obscene. As with banned books, or adult entertainment, I like having at my disposal something that the pearl-clutching masses decidedly did not want to be widely available. Sometimes, spite can be a great motivator. But with that comes the caveat: this may not be for all tastes. And that is fine. Everything doesn't need to be for everyone, but everyone should be allowed to decide what is for them.