On big happy dysfunctional family. |
From the explosively charged opening tracking shot that
introduces most of the major characters to the quietly triumphant closing, Boogie Nights never lets up. It flogs
you with an emotional paddle again and again. The ups are sometimes as extreme
in their euphoria as the downs are dismal. For me, it is still the most
exciting film Paul Thomas Anderson has made. It was only his second feature,
but his dialogue is truly second to none and he squeezes in a remarkable amount
of character development. He can economize better than any other
writer-director working.
As a director, Anderson keeps a lot of balls in the air
at once and scenes that could really go off the rails are generally well-controlled,
with one exception in a scene that is unbearably tense, truly exhilarating, and
brilliantly executed. Of course I’m talking about the scene when Dirk, Reed,
and Todd try to scam a drug dealer, played by Alfred Molina, in his own home. The
scene is very loosely based on the Wonderland Murders, as the movie itself is a
loose interpretation of the life of John Holmes. Molina’s character is coked
out and keyed up. There’s a large and armed security man lurking in the wings,
loud rock music playing, a live wire ready to commit a stupid robbery, two guys
ready to snap from the tension, and a totally extraneous kid wandering around
setting off firecrackers (“He’s Chinese”), just to make everyone jump every ten
seconds. This is a big action sequence in a film that doesn’t really need it,
but it’s a shorthand way for Anderson to get Dirk to a point where he
desperately seeks to get back in Jack’s good graces and movie. I guess it wasn’t
rock bottom enough when he was attacked by a group of men disgusted with his
practice of taking money from guys who want to watch him masturbate.
It’s a big rise and long way down for a young man who started
earning extra money by showing off his enormous penis. That he’s able to
masturbate several times in a night for money is what endears him to Jack (Burt
Reynolds), the pornography director and general father figure to this largely
dysfunctional family. Julianne Moore plays Amber, one of the stock company’s actresses
whose character is largely defined by her inability to procure visitation rights
with her son. She winds up treating Dirk and Rollergirl like her own children,
which is fine for them as they don’t have any parents making a difference in
their lives. About Rollergirl’s (Heather Graham) home life we learn nothing
except that she obviously dropped high school to be a porn actress. But Dirk (a
revelatory Mark Wahlberg) has a particularly harrowing scene with his alcoholic
mother, who hurls torrents of abuse at him when he comes home early in the
morning. His feckless father (in a refreshing gender role reversal) sits idly
by.
Anderson takes many of his visual cues, his way of using
the camera, from Robert Altman, another director known for building great drama
from multiple character storylines. There are several key tracking shots
scattered throughout Boogie Nights,
allowing Anderson to fluidly connect many of his characters to a single time
and place. He’s also showing off a little bit, but a well-executed tracking
shot gives the actors plenty of time to build their performances. And this is a
movie as well acted as it is written. Not only was Wahlberg fantastic t
portraying someone who is essentially a kid thrust into a world littered with
fleeing fame and lots of drugs, but Moore and Reynolds both received Oscar
nominations for their work. John C. Reilly, always a great pleasure, plays Dirk’s
friend and acting partner, Reed Rothchild. Then there’s Willim H. Macy in a
standout performance as a hired technical hand driven homicidal by his porn
star wife’s constantly having sex with younger, more physically appealing, men.
Additionally Ricky Jay appears and also Don Cheadle, Melora Walters, Philip
Baker Hall, and Philip Seymour Hoffman, playing gay before his Oscar-winning
turn as Truman Capote.
Looking back sixteen years later it’s interesting to note
that one of the more minor conflicts, related to Jack’s career ambition to make
a “real” film, one that will keep men in the theater after their orgasm, is the
transition to porn produced on videotape. Jack is visited by a producer who has
access to the equipment and the distribution and the amateur actors who will work
for cheap. Jack, like P.T. Anderson, considers himself an artist before an
entertainer. Videotape looks like garbage. Boogie
Nights came out when digital photography was in its early infancy, possibly
still gestating. Film production was on the brink of changing forever. In fact,
George Lucas was already in production with the mostly digitally shot The Phantom Menace, later also presented
in digital projection in some theaters.
Digital didn’t even look as good as film back then (I might argue it
still doesn’t). Also, the Internet was just beginning to boom in 1997, which
would alter the porn industry completely. When Jack and his crew end by
succumbing to the pull of video, including an early reality-type program
involving an actress in a limo, a video camera, and a man from the street, it
almost serves as a prophecy for the eventual and inevitable ubiquity of
Internet pornography.
The heart of Boogie
Nights is family. Anderson has returned again and again to family themes,
particularly fathers and sons. Here we have a big family that acquires a
prodigal son in Dirk Diggler. They go through good times, marriages, children,
celebrations. Then, like any family, there are hard times and falling outs. As
bad as things get in this story, Anderson still manages to pull out a
satisfying close that has these characters back, if not quite on top, somewhere
near the top of their game. Boogie Nights
pushes and pulls in lots of directions. It is emotionally complex, expertly
written, and endlessly entertaining.
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