The Firm (1993) was the first of the Nineties' innumerable John Grisham adaptations. Thanks to an excellent cast and Sydney Pollack's slick direction, it's one of the best, even if the story seems illogical.Mitch McDeere (Tom Cruise), recent Harvard graduate, scores a job with the Memphis law firm of Bendini, Lambert & Locke. His wife Abby's (Jeanne Tripplehorn) is off-put by "the firm's" exaggerated coziness; Mitch is rattled by the deaths of several lawyers and his mentor Avery's (Gene Hackman) blunt amorality. Mitch is contacted by FBI Agent Tarrance (Ed Harris), who reveals that the firm's under investigation for money laundering. Mitch tries to gather evidence against his employer, but fears violating attorney-client privilege in the process. What's a lawyer to do?
With ace director Pollack and a dream team of screenwriters (including Robert Towne and David Rabe), The Firm seeks to evoke thrillers of old. Mitch becomes the Everyman caught in a messy conspiracy, relying on wits and know-how. It helps that Pollack makes Mitch more likeable than Grisham's amoral jerk: he's less monstrous than pragmatic, even if he boinks a beach bunny and browbeats the FBI. It's less legal thriller than whistleblowing drama, but with a protagonist who won't wait for the government to bail him out.
The Firm's plot hangs together despite its unlikely twists and hyperbolic action. Yet the film's messy in the margins, jettisoning logic in its characters and subplots. Part of Mitch's deal with the FBI involves springing his brother (David Straitharn), but he's forgotten once his strict utility vanishes. Fair enough that Avery envies Mitch's idealism, but must he pursue Mitch's estranged wife? And if Bendini, etc. are so cartoonishly evil, why not kill or blackmail Mitch much earlier?
But thrillers like this are innately susceptible to illogic, requiring expert handling to stay together. Fortunately, Pollack's an old pro and keeps things moving briskly. The Firm crams a lot into two-and-a-half hours, yet moves efficiently despite the misguided subplots. The film swaps ominous office meetings, languorous Caribbean getaways and violent action with uncommon skill: the near-climax, with Mitch outrunning a corporate hitman (Tobin Bell), is absurd yet brilliantly executed. There's also a wonderful jazz-infused score by Dave Grusin driving the action.
Tom Cruise does fine playing a nice guy with an edge, far preferable to endless Top Gun retread roles. Jeanne Tripplehorn is a dull concerned wife, overshadowed by Holly Hunter's crafty secretary. Gene Hackman plays Mitch's mentor with shades of sympathy, even if we don't buy the whole of his character arc. Ed Harris's FBI agent is a vulgar jerk and we don't blame Mitch for disliking him.
Hal Holbrook (All the President's Men), Jerry Hardin (Ghosts of Mississippi) and a nicely against-type Wilford Brimley are understated villains. Tobin Bell (Saw) and David Straitharn (Lincoln) get early-career walk-ons; Paul Sorvino cameos as (what else?) a gangster. Then there's Gary Busey, used with clever sparingness; in small doses, Busey's bug-eyed insanity provides spice rather than irritation.
The Firm is absorbing, undemanding entertainment. True, it's neither realistic in its plotting nor subtle in its treatment of corporate greed. But then, realism and subtlety are virtues Hollywood, and John Grisham - especially their legal thrillers - honor in the breach.
