"We each owe a death - there are no exceptions - but sometimes, oh God, the Green Mile seems so long"

Rating: 10/10 (29 October 2008)

Every so often, a film comes along that somehow manages to worm its way into your heart, and then stays with you for years afterward. For this staunch atheist, that film inexplicably happened to be a Christ allegory, the poignant story of a miracle-man on death-row during the Great Depression. Director Frank Darabont, who impossibly followed up his debut 'The Shawshank Redemption (1994)' with something even better, is remarkable in his ability to evoke time and place, and to tell a story with a wistful nostalgia that incorporates the audience into its intimacy. Every character  even the minor supporting players  is perfectly drawn, as though we've known them our whole lives; now mere memories in the near-forgotten past. The 1935 setting emphasises the contrast between the general and widespread despair of the Depression, which had brought the entire developed world to its knees, with the arrival on death-row of John Coffey, an immense, mild-mannered African American with a special gift.
Like Darabont's previous film, 'The Green Mile (1999)' was adapted from an excellent story by horror icon Stephen King, this one originally released as a collection of novellas. Former prison-guard Paul Edgecomb (Dabbs Greer) awakens from bad dreams to find himself in a nursing home that closely resembles the psychiatric ward in 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975).' Paul seeks solitude in the vast green hills surrounding the home, but the demons of his past inevitably return to haunt him, and he breaks down in tears at the sight of Fred and Ginger dancing cheek-to-cheek in 'Top Hat (1935).' Slowly and painfully, Paul recounts the events that changed his life in 1935, when a gentle Black giant named John Coffey ("like the drink, only not spelt the same") arrived on the lime-coloured tiles of the Green Mile to pay his due to society, for the vile murder of two young girls. For Paul (now played by Tom Hanks), everything he thinks he knows about life and God suddenly takes an unexpected, miraculous and even frightening turn.
It's one thing to have an ensemble of well-written characters, but the task of credibly communicating each personality ultimately comes down to the actors. Simply put, everybody in 'The Green Mile'  both the seasoned veterans and the emerging talents  delivers with a professionalism and sincerity rarely seen in today's big-budget pictures. Tom Hanks, as always, is strong in the lead role, possessing enough honest charm to make Edgecomb strong yet identifiable to the audience. Michael Clarke Duncan, in the role of his career, deservedly received an Oscar nomination for his role as John Coffey, a slow but earnest giant (probably inspired, in part, by John Steinbeck's Lennie Small) who, despite his sheer goodness, has become disillusioned by the corruption of our world. If Coffey is an allegory for Jesus Christ, then Sam Rockwell  as "Wild Bill" Wharton  is the film's representation of the Devil, a deranged youth whose only purpose in life is to wreak chaos on those around him. It's a telling sign that we frequently enjoy a chuckle at his mean-spirited (but admittedly creative) misdemeanours.
I want to dedicate a paragraph to Doug Hutchison as Percy Whetmore, simply because his supporting performance is one of the most extraordinary I've ever seen, and certainly among the most underrated in recent memory. Hutchison, an unknown actor  except to fans of 'The X-Files'  goes beyond being a straightforward villain, absolutely relishing the detestable guise of an erratic young prison guard with connections in high places. Smug, slimy and impulsive, Percy is a dangerous man to have around death-row, all the more so because he's as stupid as he is influential. Unlike Wild Bill, with whom the audience forms some sort of morbid connection, Percy is loathsome in every sense of the word, the only character since Nurse Ratched that I've genuinely want to wring about the neck. In his excellence, Hutchison is joined by an impeccable supporting cast, which is worth mentioning in its entirety: David Morse, Barry Pepper, Jeffrey DeMunn, Michael Jeter, Graham Greene, James Cromwell, Gary Sinise, Bonnie Hunt, Patricia Clarkson and, always a treat, Harry Dean Stanton.
King's original novel included a heartbreaking epilogue in which Paul watches his wife die in a road accident, as the immense black shadow of a recognisable man looms chillingly in the distance, an ominous reminder of Paul's sins. In the film, Darabont alludes only briefly to Jan's (Bonnie Hunt) death, but he strikes a similar note of melancholy as Paul reflects on the friends and family whom he has been forced to outlive as "punishment" for executing one of God's miracles. When Paul unaffectedly remarks to his audience, Elaine (Eve Brent), that she, too, will die in due course, the utter loneliness of his predicament truly hits home, and our fascination at his longevity is swiftly replaced with a gutting hollowness. Though Thomas Newman's score is suitably emotional, the most powerful moments are those accompanied by the nostalgic tunes of the era. The sheer blind optimism of "Cheek to Cheek" and "Did You Ever See A Dream Walking?" is heartbreaking when set against the hopelessness and despair of death-row and the Great Depression. Now I can't watch 'Top Hat' without getting a little teary.