Klute (1971)

Klute is one of those films where I want to shout: "they just don't make films like this anymore!" Even though this film is suspect and even repulsive at times, it has a singular style that creates some of the eeriest atmospheres I've seen in a movie for a while. The film is directed by Alan Pakula who masterfully uses surroundings and rooms to create a truly unnerving film experience - and what is so brilliant is that the means are so simple: shadows, a weirdly lit room, strange relations between people. But well, the trouble starts with the content and the story of the film. Jane Fonda plays a prostitute who seems to have ended up in the business because she is somehow addicted to it. She is entangled with a private detective (played by a haggard Donald Sutherland) who is trying to solve a case of a person who has gone missing. The story is propelled by so many male fantasies about prostitutes that I can't even bother to spell them out (but some are missing: the prostitute does not "save" the man; the story is about a cop with good intentions who doesn't have a clue). The best thing about Klute is that is so utterly muddled. It doesn't quite proceed in a way a thriller is expected to proceed, and the way the events unfold confound more than they clarify.