Okay, before I launch into this review, you must promise that you, the reader, will not kill me. When you scroll down and see what I have to say about “The Shawshank Redemption,” under no circumstances are you allowed to take a hit out on me, or send me anthrax in the mail, or order a drone strike on my house. I understand that this film is very beloved and has some impassioned defenders, and I would not like to be on the receiving end of their ire (again). However, I felt how I felt about it, and it is my solemn duty to report that “Shawshank” just did not hit like I thought it would. For my second installment in the summer Throwback Thursday series, I will be reviewing this film with the steadfast candor that you have come to expect from this author– and you will just have to deal.
“The Shawshank Redemption” contains about 160 minutes of absolutely excellent movie. Unfortunately, the full runtime of the film is 202 minutes. Somewhere along the way, all of the elements that I found exciting, interesting, and moving eventually transformed into elements that I began to find exhausting, corny, and overwrought. Many films suffer from the tragic condition of being Too Damn Long, and this is one such case. However, it’s not simply that “Shawshank” gave us too much of a good thing; its ample runtime afforded me the space to get really sick of the film. Moments that I found powerful earlier began to go rotten in my recollection. The main character, Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins), began to grate on me, his steadfastness and infinite supply of kindness and intelligence prompting full-on eye rolls. By the time the film was complete, any intrigue or emotion evoked by “Shawshank” had dried up, leaving me with a bitter sense of curdled sentimentality.
The film, narrated by Morgan Freeman as longtime prisoner Red, follows the miserable life of Mr. Dufresne after his imprisonment for murdering his wife and her lover. The veracity of his guilt is left intentionally vague for the majority of the film, briefly allowing for some rare grayness in the film’s largely black-and-white moral landscape. Dufresne was an affluent banker before going to Shawshank State Penitentiary, cutting a comparatively weak figure among the hardened felons surrounding him. Despite horrifying brutalization from fellow prisoners and guards, Dufresne manages to survive and eventually thrive in prison, making valuable friendships and occupying his time with worthwhile pursuits. From revamping the prison library, helping guards from around New England file their taxes, and teaching hapless convicts their ABCs, Dufresne is nothing short of saintly.
His genius, generosity, and perseverance make for a compelling character at first, but Dufresne’s total lack of flaws starts to get pretty boring. Endlessly torturing an innocent character does not really make them an interesting person, and when everything they set out to do is perfectly executed, one starts losing interest in their plucky endeavors. Has this man never done anything wrong in his life? Is he a human being, or a walking life lesson? Dufresne, who might as well be a kindly tortoise in one of Aesop’s fables, singlehandedly restores the hope to every man he encounters in Shawshank prison, all while blackmailing the evil warden and, or course, orchestrating his own escape. He didn’t even commit the murders he was imprisoned for. In “Shawshank’s” dull good-versus-evil world, potential nuance and character flaws are discarded in favor of a Book of Job-esque series of miseries inflicted on an innocent man. Woe is me!
Because of his preternatural wit and forethought, after 19 years, Dufresne accomplishes the impossible: escaping from Shawshank. His buddy Red manages to get parole after 30 years inside, so he too is granted an escape. In a previous storyline about old-timer Brooks who couldn’t hack it on the outside and hung himself, the audience saw how difficult it was for someone who’s been “institutionalized” to make it in the real world. Red stays at the exact same halfway house as Brooks, which I was told is plausible given the size of the town they’re in but still sticks in my mind as intolerably cheesy. He carves his name next to Brooks’ on the ceiling and then gets the hell out of dodge, following a treasure trail Dufresne described to him back before they both got out of prison. This occurred on the very day Dufresne escaped, following yet another exchange between him and Red about not letting The Man crush your spirit, so I truly believed that Dufresne made up some cock-and-bull story about buried treasure as a metaphor or some sort of device to keep Red’s determination alive. Never did I consider that he actually did hide a massive chunk of obsidian way out in the middle of a cornfield beneath the tree where he proposed to his wife, because this struck me as too stupid to be true.
It was true, though, and when Red dug up the rock he found some money and an invitation to come live in Zihuatanejo, Mexico with a newly tanned Dufresne. As Red walks down the beach toward his old friend, one has to enjoy the significance of their freedom, fearlessness, and enduring friendship. I am not so jaded and cold as to be immune to the charms of this ending. I was especially appreciative of the narrative’s shift back to Red’s perspective near the end, since it’s ultimately his journey portrayed in this film. It is his evolution from complacency to self-actualization, aided by Dufresne’s encouragement and example. In addition to this compelling central arc, the film is visually stunning throughout. There were countless remarkable shots, especially of the prison yard, which still linger in my mind. “Shawshank” was honestly great while it lasted, and I wish it could have ended before I realized everything that was wrong with it. Instead, the perpetual slog of repetitive plot and emotional manipulation wore thinner than a prison jumpsuit.