Cast: John Travolta, Madeleine Stowe, James Cromwell, Timothy Hutton, Clarence Williams III, James Woods, Rick Dial, Leslie Stefanson
Director: Simon West
Producer: Mace Neufeld
Screenplay: Christopher Bertolini and William Goldman, based on the novel by Nelson DeMille
Cinematography: Peter Menzies Jr.
Music: Carter Burwell
U.S. Distributor: Paramount Pictures
The General's Daughter is for all those who enjoy mystery/thrillers that neither attempt to break new ground nor are afraid to employ familiar plot devices. However, while originality isn't one of the film's hallmarks, it is a consistently involving effort, due in large part to solid acting by an A-list cast and effective storytelling by director Simon West (Con Air), working from a script by Christopher Bertolini and the legendary William Goldman. And, even though the overall arc of the movie travels some well-trodden roads, there are enough small twists and surprises to prevent The General's Daughter from seeming like a pale copy of other, similar efforts.
The film does not begin in a promising fashion. When we first meet John Travolta's Warrant Officer Paul Brenner, he's chomping on a cheap cigar and using his worst Bill Clinton accent. Fortunately, we soon learn that the accent is fake and the cigars are for show. He's an army cop working under cover to expose a soldier who's selling arms to a private citizen. Soon, Brenner has been called in to investigate the brutal rape, torture, and murder of Captain Elizabeth Campbell (Leslie Stefanson), the beautiful daughter of three-star General Joe Campbell (James Cromwell), who's retiring from the army to pursue a vice presidential nomination. Paired with a former flame, rape investigator Sarah Sunderland (Madeleine Stowe), Brenner delves into the investigation, turning Fort MacCallum upside down in his quest for a suspect. He meets Elizabeth's mentor, Colonel Moore (James Woods), who enjoys playing mind games, and learns that not only was the murder victim involved in some unsavory sexual activities, but there's a skeleton in her closet.
In general, I do not consider myself to be a John Travolta fan. While I acknowledge that he has a charismatic and affable presence, his range can best be described as limited. Nevertheless, in The General's Daughter, as in last year's A Civil Action, he gives a convincing performance. What's most impressive is that he's able to hold his own in scenes where he's forced to go toe-to-toe with the likes of James Woods and James Cromwell. Interestingly, while Travolta has the lion's share of screen time and portrays the protagonist, his character is not well developed. Like many investigators in mysteries, he exists primarily to follow the clues and answer the key questions of whodunnit? and whydunnit? Basically, he's a stand in for us; the only things we learn about Brenner's past are those that can be revealed in a few convenient lines of dialogue.
Like Travolta, Madeleine Stowe is constrained by the limits placed on her character. In the past, Stowe has shown aptitude and screen presence (most memorably in Stakeout and Short Cuts), but here she's relegated to the role of sidekick. Sunderland's main purpose is twofold: to provide a little romantic tension and to act as a sounding board for Brenner. It's the kind of role that almost any capable actress could have played. There's not much meat here, since all of the best scenes and lines belong to Travolta or James Woods.
The best-developed characters are the victim, the chief suspect, and the man whose political clout is driving the investigation. Despite being dead by the fifteen minute point, Elizabeth Campbell is a well-defined individual whose personality is revealed through flashbacks, anecdotes, and moments captured on videotape. Likewise, her father, played with panache by James Cromwell (the farmer in the Babe movies), is proven to be more complex than one might initially suppose. Finally, there's Moore, who is the keeper of many secrets (both his own and those of others). Played with scene-stealing intensity by James Woods, he becomes a natural focal point for our attention.
Audiences may notice certain similarities between The General's Daughter and A Few Good Men. Both films involve internal criminal military investigations and feature taut confrontations between the protagonist and a high-powered military official. And, while the showdown between Travolta and Cromwell isn't as memorable as the one between Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson, it's still an effective scene. The General's Daughter also recalls Courage Under Fire, especially in the way it develops the character of a dead female officer after her death. Unlike in Edward Zwick's movie, however, there is no Rashomon element to this picture.
The General's Daughter contains a number of familiar devices. It should come as no surprise to anyone that there are a few dark sexual secrets in the victim's background (this is almost a requirement). Likewise, anyone who thinks the general's part in the tragedy is relegated to being a grieving father has not seen many entries into this genre. And, of course, the most obvious suspect is unlikely to be the real killer. Actually, uncovering the criminal's identity is one of the least interesting aspects of The General's Daughter, and, when it occurs, it's something of an anti-climax (as is often the case). The chief pleasure in watching this movie is seeing the investigation unfold.
Flow is exceptionally important to a narrative like this, and West generates a nearly perfect pace, keeping things moving despite the need to provide a fair amount of exposition. The General's Daughter is the exception to the rule: a rare film that earns its two-hour running time (as opposed to being stretched to that length by having extraneous material inserted). This isn't a masterpiece, but it is consistently entertaining (although those who are offended by strong sexual content or the depiction of sexual violence will find several scenes tough to watch). As far as mystery/thrillers go, The General's Daughter supplies what most viewers want and expect from this kind of motion picture.
© 1999 James Berardinelli