Almost There: John Cazale in "Dog Day Afternoon"
Tuesday, September 8, 2020 at 2:00PM
Cláudio Alves in Al Pacino, Almost There, Best Supporting Actor, Dog Day Afternoon, HBO, John Cazale, Oscars (70s), Sidney Lumet, reader requests, streaming

by Cláudio Alves

On March 13th, 1978, John Cazale died of lung cancer at the age of 42. Before his untimely end, the Massachusetts-born actor had amassed an impressive list of credits, both on stage and onscreen. His filmography, as far as features are concerned, is of particular interest and amazement. He appeared in five films, six if you count The Godfather Part III, all of which were nominated for the Best Picture Oscar (a record!). Not only that, but his quintet from the 70s (The Godfather, The Conversation, The Godfather Part II, Dog Day Afternoon, and The Deer Hunter) represents a list of era-defining classics.

Of them, 1975's Dog Day Afternoon was surely the closest the actor ever came to a much-deserved Oscar nomination…

Part of the reason why Cazale never nabbed that elusive validation from AMPAS probably lies in his style of performance and approach to roles. In all of his features, the actor played supporting parts and, unlike other thespians would have done, one never gets the sense that Cazale is aiming to steal the spotlight. Instead, his virtuosity emerges from the subtle naturalism with which he reacts to the chaos around him. Some of his best work is done in the background of shots, often out of focus, imbuing the screen with a sense of overwhelming authenticity while never demanding that the spectator focus on his craft. 

In Dog Day Afternoon that is particularly evident. Director Sidney Lumet shoots this true bank-robbing story with an eye attuned to the cinematic possibilities of stressed people stuck together in a small, uncomfortable, emotionally charged space. While the framing may privilege the mercurial explosivity of Al Pacino's Sonny Wortzik, the camera doesn't lose sight of the people living at the margins of this star turn. That's what makes the film into such an unexpectedly humane drama, one whose tension electrifies the screen and is born out of lived-in characters trying desperately to survive through its narrative.

Cazale plays Salvatore "Sal" Naturale, Sonny's partner in the robbery of the First Brooklyn Savings Bank. He's the first to enter the scene of the crime, a ball of gangly nerves that suggest the terror that's about to be unleashed. Before any gun's been revealed, Cazale's walk, posture, and awkwardness have already ramped up the tension to an unbearable degree. Moreover, his stone-faced determination feels more dangerous than Pacino's boisterous criminal incompetence.

As an audience, we get to know Sonny and feel like we're able to predict his actions. Sal, however, remains an ominous wild card, especially as the film unfolds and his anxiety becomes impossible to ignore. Whatever confidence we've seen in Sal at the beginning quickly collapses under the weight of fear. At times, his hands look unrestful, searching for something to support him, like a wall, a table, a salvation that isn't there to lean on. Even the way Cazale holds his gun speaks to Sal's internal devastation.

His hands contort around the weapon as if it were a lifeline, making us dread the pull of a trigger. When he's not talking to Sonny, his eyes are often found observing the hostages with frightening unsureness, predatorily scanning his targets, or perhaps checking on the only things standing between him and a bullet from the police. Through Cazale's performance, Sal becomes anxiety made flesh with a gun in its hand. Sickly-looking and ghoulish, Sal's a man falling apart in front of our eyes. As the story's final act arrives, Sal's barely holding it together through clenched teeth and only Sonny's delusional hope seems to be keeping him from completely imploding.

Still, what most surprises when re-watching Dog Day Afternoon is how Cazale leans into a more fatalistic register during Sal's last few scenes inside the bank, delivering panicked dialogue with a wounded sincerity. At times, there's even a hint of morbid desire in the saturnine demeanor of this man who has nobody to say goodbye to. It's as if he starts to wish for death, drowned by defeat, and unable to find his way out. There's a moment when he looks at Pacino with such an expression of hopelessness, it's difficult not to shed a tear. For his last sequence, Cazale plays Sal as a dead man walking who knows he's a dead man walking, feverishly sweating his way to the inevitable.

Sal is one of John Cazale's greatest creations, a miracle of nervousness and subdued realism. More even than Pacino's iconic Sonny, Sal feels like a real person, full of idiosyncratic oddness and little behavioral traits, full of contradictions and dashed dreams. Unfortunately, none of that excellence swayed the Academy. Cazale got as far as a Golden Globe nomination, but AMPAS chose to reward his co-star, Chris Sarandon, with Dog Day Afternoon's sole Best Supporting Actor nod. The other performances that complete that year's lineup are Brad Dourif in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Burgess Meredith in The Day of the Locust, Jack Warden in Shampoo, and, the winner, George Burns in The Sunshine Boys.

Dog Day Afternoon is newly available to stream on HBO Max.

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Article originally appeared on The Film Experience (http://thefilmexperience.net/).
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