How does a film filled with characters going through existential crises overcome its own to become an enduring classic? When it comes to hailing a movie with that label, much of it is hyperbole. A critic can keep a movie in their readership’s minds, but only the audience can preserve a film for generations.
That’s the miracle of The Shawshank Redemption, whose incredible journey reflects the film’s theme of resilience over three decades. It began in September 1994, with cheers at the Toronto International Film Festival, but then landed with a thud at the box office. We are talking about a bowling ball falling from the Empire State Building—the kind of thud that would have hit a person, which Tom Fontana would call “death by Brunswick.” Frank Darabont’s film with a hard to pronounce name and two well-respected leads made just under a million dollars in its limited release on September 23, 1994.
The film couldn’t crack the top ten, losing to cinema like Jean-Claude Van Damme’s Timecop and Hilary Swank’s pre-award turns in The Next Karate Kid. Castle Rock invested $25 million in the film and lost over $9 million, not counting advertising and marketing campaigns. Then, something happened before the days of digital versatile discs, Blu-ray, and digital streaming: word of mouth kept The Shawshank Redemption alive. That’s the salient point star Morgan Freeman made on The Graham Norton show: “The only real marketing is word of mouth.” The Academy Award winner then pointed out audience’s inability to pronounce the film’s title, “It’s called Ship, Shank, Sham, Shank, Sham, Shock.”
Millions of people would run, clamor, and demand that long movie with a funny name and bring home a small plastic box about seven inches long, four inches wide, and one inch in height, weighing just under a pound, that kept safe about 980 feet of non-high-definition magnetic tape. As Tim Robbins shares a bit of revisionist history in an interview with Entertainment Weekly, “The immediate reaction at that time wasn’t as important as whether the film would have life in video and on cable.” If you went to your local Blockbuster, Hollywood Video, or mom-and-pop shop, you were likely turned away or put on a waiting list like Jamal Wallace waiting for Avalon Landing.
The Shawshank Redemption went on to earn $58 million upon an awards re-release, becoming the highest video rental of 1995 and generating over $100 million in home entertainment revenue by 2000, only being bested by Titanic, The Lion King, and Star Wars: Episode I—The Phantom Menace. Not to mention being a mainstay on cable networks like TNT, and AMC for years, and proving the film’s staying power by sitting on top of IMDB’s coveted fan voting rated as the best film of all-time. So, how does a movie with little star power, a virtually unknown director, and a dark story about taking place inside ominous walls, with the only hope coming from the eyes of Rita Hayworth, Marilyn Monroe, and Raquel Welch, become such an enduring classic?
The Shawshank Redemption fed something missing from movies that went beyond the strong silent type. Like the autonomy and camaraderie of Cool Hand Luke, the empathy of The Green Mile, and the racial divides of The Defiant ones. It is the cinematic equivalent of therapy, showcasing the power of vulnerability and the subject of male friendship that those Hollywood starlets hid something else entirely.
Based on the short story by Stephen King titled “Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption,” Tim Robbins plays Andy Dufresne, a man who has just been sentenced to two life sentences back to back for killing his wife and her lover, who was having an affair with a golf pro. After Dufresne’s conviction, Andy is sent to spend the rest of his days at Shawshank State Prison. That’s where Morgan Freeman comes in, playing Red, a man who knows how to smuggle contraband for the fellas. Red says he’s a regular “Sears and Roebuck,” or, by today’s standards, an “Amazon and Prime.”
At first, Red and his friends think the former banker from Portland, Maine, is a cold fish. After all, most men were raised never to fight against their fathers’ virtues, which taught them the male values of stoicism and self-reliance. Here, Darabont’s masterful adaptation allows the viewer to observe Andy from afar and up close. It’s a therapeutic reliance that is built among all three. This being a memory play, Freeman’s overwhelmingly strong and poetic narration is cathartic, almost akin to a therapist making observations about a complicated man with walls who is impossible to get to know.
Darabont’s script is remarkable in that many will fail to convert a short story to the silver screen because the material is stretched beyond its limits. However, the filmmaker takes the horror master’s source material and makes it soar. The script’s intricate storytelling uses trauma to explore complex themes like fear, along with an unending existential crisis of suffering, mortality, and the search for meaning.
Yet, the movie has a violent nature that can turn on a dime, but the narrative is gripping and much more poetic than prosaic. It would be like comparing the visceral Saving Private Ryan to Terrence Malick’s lyrical The Thin Red Line. Yes, The Shawshank Redemption may lack some grit, but just because it was never Brawl in Cell Block 99 or HBO’s Oz doesn’t mean it’s any less effective.
I would argue that this leads to a film with deliberate and entertaining patience regarding symbolism, expression, and meaning. In a now famous line, Andy tells Red that he had to come to prison to be a crook, but as we take in their relationship, we begin to realize these characters need each other to learn humanity. As the film progresses, Robbins is able to reveal how Andy slowly chips through those walls he has built around himself. At the same time, Freeman illustrates Red’s evolution, ultimately discarding the stock responses, becoming more candid and honest, having come to terms with his past that thesociety placed on him.
This is the journey Darabont takes the viewer on and becomes nearly impossible to resist the film’s emotional intelligence, old-fashioned Hollywood style and storytelling, classic scenes, a transcendent Thomas Newman score, and cast of eccentric characters. The way Clancy Brown’s sadistic prison guard tells fellas to drink it while it’s cold “ladies” on that prison rooftop. How the film can sharply turn sober, as William Sadler’s Heywood reminds Andy of the realities of prison life. You’ll be struck at the film’s groundwork, laying the tracks for misdirection, as the great James Whitmore, who plays Brooks, carves his name into a boarding house beam.
Morgan Freeman’s stunning speech solidified his Oscar nomination as he addressed the parole board about the angry young man he once was and the man he has become. This scene (and many others) is often regarded as inspirational, an admittedly overplayed theme. Yet Freeman’s performance in this moment is epic, reflecting a journey that spans decades. It is an outstanding moment of self-reflection, growth, and unwavering humility.
Yet, The Shawshank Redemption is much more than that as a whole than some of those gorgeous parts. The film is hardly stuffy and plays like a vintage adaptation of a graphic novel brought to life, characterized by its visual richness, emotional engagement, and multiple narrative layers.
Much of the credit for this achievement goes to the great Roger Deakins, whose cinematography showcases his mastery of long takes in the opening prison scene, fluid camera movement during the confrontation on the rooftop, strategic use of lighting for juxtaposition inside the library, and the composition that highlights the lone tree in the middle of a Buxton hayfield that evokes the color of sun-soaked rays as if Red is ascending to a better place.
All of these qualities, the studio crowd pleaser that focuses on story instead of overwrought special effects, are almost antiquated today. However, it’s the story the audience connects with that makes The Shawshank Redemption an enduring classic. Andy and Red’s redemption is one of inherent resilience, activated through difficult circumstances that became part of both men’s growth through the resilience-building process. King’s vision and Darabont’s script begin to break down masculine norms by being open to vulnerability and encouraging compassion instead of violent toxicity.
That is why The Shawshank Redemption endures. The film spans generations because it speaks to our human capacity for fortitude, adaptation, and the pursuit of connection and purpose. That may be eye-rolling to some and a bit of pie in the sky to many, but it should understandably be encouraged to be reached by all.
Warner Bros. gave The Shawshank Redemption a limited theatrical release on September 23, 1994 before going wide on October 14. It is currently available to buy on Apple TV, Amazon Video, Microsoft Store as download or rent it on Apple TV, Amazon Video, Microsoft Store, Spectrum On Demand online.
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