Apparently the late, great Paul Newman once passed along a rock-steady cinematic truth — one that rivals Howard Hawks’ declaration that all award-worthy films have “at least three great scenes and no bad ones.”
Newman’s Law states that all first-rate, award-worthy or at least commercially successful films start and end with a certain gravitational punch or pizazz. They grab the audience during their opening 15 minutes, and then really bring it home during the final 15. If the opening and the closing deliver the right stuff, the film is a keeper.
Like The Wild Bunch, say. Or Dr. Strangelove or Out of the Past or From Here to Eternity or The French Connection or The Exorcist or The Best Years of Our Lives or Paths of Glory or Viva Zapata or…
Think of The Hustler’s opening sequence (Newman and Myron McCormack using subterfuge to take several tavern patrons) and the 15-minute finale (Newman beats Jackie Gleason, has it out with George C. Scott over the death of Piper Laurie).
Or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (beginning with Robert Redford being accused of cheating at poker, “hey, kid…how good are ya?”, and closing with that doomed, small-town shoot-out with Mexican militia).
Or The Verdict (alcoholic Newman enduring the humiliation of ambulance-chasing vs. semi-sober Newman’s big jury sermon + the jury finding for the plaintiff and against St. Catherine’s).
How does Newman’s Law apply to One Battle After Another? As much as I hate admitting this, Paul Thomas Anderson’s agitprop film does the double bang — a great opening 15 or 20 with the French 75 pulling off an immigration-camp raid, and a great car-chase finale out in the barren rolling hills.
How does Newman’s Law apply to Hamnet? It doesn’t because the effectiveness of Chloe Zhao’s drama is all about the final 15 — the opening 15 don’t really do the drill.
Sentimental Value delivers Newman satisfaction because it more or less begins with Renate Reinsve’s stage-fright breakout, and ends with a sound-stage filming scene that ties it all together.
Name one classic film (critically approved or popular with the mob) that doesn’t deliver the Newman.