Paul Schrader

 

 

Hardcore (1979) – 3 stars

American Gigolo (1980) – 3 stars

Cat People (1982) – 2 ½ stars

Light Sleeper (1992) – 3 ½ stars

Auto Focus (2002) – 3 stars

This week, I watched 5 Paul Schrader films (so you don’t have to?).  I suppose my (half-hearted) mission was to see whether the acclaimed Taxi Driver (1976) screenwriter could be considered an auteur or not.  He’s certainly directed a lot of films, between Blue Collar (1978) which is actually really good (with Richard Pryor, Harvey Keitel, and Yaphet Kotto – reviewed on my blog) and his most recent release Oh Canada (2024), which I haven’t seen. Mishima (1985) and First Reformed (2017) are also recommended, as is Affliction (1997) which I haven’t rewatched since then.  The above list makes it seem that Schrader is consistently releasing solid work across many decades but alas my snapshot of films across 3 decades suggests it is not true.  

Hardcore (1979) his second film finds George C. Scott heading from Michigan to L. A. to find his daughter who has apparently run away to make porno films. This gritty shot-on-location is typically described as reflecting Schrader’s upbringing in a puritanical Dutch Calvinist church community, with Scott portraying the judgmental scornful Christian that Schrader was socialised to be. The film doesn’t hold back from the sleaze and seems to want to show some affection toward some of its lost characters but is instead seems to pity them, even while displaying a voyeuristic tendency that might actually be one of Schrader’s auteur trademarks if we grant him that status.  

The next film moves from gritty (Blue Collar and Hardcore) straight into sleek and stylish with Richard Gere on display as the titular American Gigolo (1980) and Giorgio Moroder’s electronic variations on Blondie’s “Call Me” (which he cowrote) pulsing on the soundtrack.  Gere is Schrader’s existential loner -- and this is the first film in his “Lonely Man” trilogy, where he takes inspiration from Bresson’s Pickpocket (1959).  Schrader wrote a classic book about Transcendental Film that focused on Bresson, Ozu, and Dreyer.  But try as I might, I just couldn’t see this film as transcendental.  Gere forms a bond with a senator’s wife (Lauren Hutton) from whom he accepts no money and she is his only solace when he is framed for a murder, possibly by his pimp.  It isn’t bad but it isn’t good (Hector Elizondo is interesting as the homicide detective, even if the rest of the acting is boring). 

Up next: Cat People (1982), inspired by the 1942 Val Lewton/Jacques Tourneur classic but by no means a remake.  Natassja Kinski and Malcolm McDowell are literally descendents of half-cat, half human ancient entities who transform into animals if they have sex with anyone outside of their species and must kill in order to return to human form.  Despite Kinski prowling around naked, the film is nearly stultifying, even if John Heard gives it his best shot as a New Orleans zookeeper. Is anybody lonely? Maybe, since they are estranged from their species.  Moroder hardly uses Bowie’s theme music at all.  Did I mention these two films were produced by Jerry Bruckheimer? Enough said.  

Fast forward 10 years to Light Sleeper (1992) starring Willem Dafoe as another lonely man, this time a drug dealer working for Susan Sarandon.  He’s finally gotten clean and thinking about his future since Sarandon wants to get out of the business.  A run in with an ex-lover throws him out-of-sorts.  This film is a step up from the others but often feels artificial – is it a thriller, is it arthouse, it isn’t sure.  Dafoe carries it with his artistry (and we get another jailhouse scene from Pickpocket to boot). 

Dafoe does appear in a few Schrader films throughout the years and he also brings his talent to Auto Focus (2002) which returns us to a very sleazy world in this biopic of Bob Crane from Hogan’s Heroes (played by Greg Kinnear).  Crane’s interest in perving was aided and abetted by electronics expert John Carpenter (Dafoe) who introduced him to videocameras, VCRs, homemade pornography and swinging.  Crane himself doesn’t feel like one of Schrader’s lonely men but there must be a void he’s trying to fill with all this smut.  It’s a true story and Crane was murdered, probably by Carpenter.  Dafoe keeps it creepy and Schrader is back to his judgmental/voyeuristic push-pull act.  You kind of can’t look away.  

So, where does this leave us?  If I fold in half-formed memories of First Reformed, Affliction, Mishima, and newer films like the Card Counter (2021), it sort of does feel that Schrader should be granted auteur status.  However, the problem is likely that he isn’t a very good or consistent director or is too much subjected to the commercial needs of his producers (or his own poor instincts).  The themes may be there but too many of the films are average or worse.  Still, he does manage to find more acorns than a blind squirrel might.

 

Sumo Do, Sumo Don’t (1992)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Sumo Do, Sumo Don’t (1992) – M. Suô

Amon checked this out of the library and it was fun to watch it as a family.  A classic underdogs-make-good comedy using the traditional formula that sees a bunch of oddballs rally to beat a team of obnoxious bullies.  The big difference, of course, is that the sport here is sumo wrestling which is pretty weird, even if it is Japan’s national sport.  The focus is on a university sumo team which has lost all of its members and is in danger of being de-registered.  So, the professor who serves as coach has to recruit students to join up for the year’s competitions, the students don’t have to be fat and the main character is played by former idol Masahiro Motoki (later seen in Oscar winning Departures, 2008). Comic relief is offered by Naoto Takenaka, whose character gets diarrhea every time he feels stressed.  So, you can see the type of humour on display here.  It is also surprising (or not) to see just how dated a 1992 film can be, with some of the sexist jokes falling extremely flat these days (and fortunately over the heads of the kids).  Of course, it is still a “feel good” film, because you really do want this assortment of outsiders to triumph -- and, as everyone can foresee, they do. 

Ghostwatch (1992)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Ghostwatch (1992) – L. Manning

Perhaps this has gone down in the annals of “seemed like a good idea at the time” events but even now it managed to pack a punch, 28 years later.  So, yes, the BBC decided to make a faux live broadcast (hosted by Michael Parkinson no less) where they station a reporter and camera crew in a supposedly haunted house and film what happens on Halloween.  In the studio is an expert on parapsychology and interviewees include a skeptic from New York City.  Of course, weird things do begin to happen, centered on a young girl nearing puberty.  Apparently, many Brits tuned in late (after a movie on ITV finished) and did not realise that the broadcast was staged & fictional – so the outcry and shock resembled what happened after Orson Welles’ War of the Worlds radio broadcast in the 1930s.  In practice, the film feels a bit like the subsequent Blair Witch Project with its “you are there” shaky cam and inexplicable chaos.  Apparently, if you look closely enough you can see the apparition (that callers to the show’s hotline were reporting) approximately 13 times – I only saw it once after being told where to look!  I knew it wasn’t real but still I had to keep pinching myself…

 

Simple Men (1992)

☆ ☆ ☆

Simple Men (1992) – H. Hartley

I don’t think I saw too many of Hal Hartley’s films back in the day (Amateur, 1994, I think, and maybe Henry Fool, 1997) – but they definitely bring me back to that time and place when Indie American films were making their mark.  Whit Stillman is similar I think, in writing dialogue-heavy films that feel artificial in that scripted dramatic way that somehow works for this genre.  Here, Hartley gives us two brothers who are seeking their anarchist (and former all-star shortstop) father who has escaped from custody and is in hiding on Long Island.  One brother (Bill Sage) is a college student (studying philosophy) and the other is a criminal (Robert John Burke) who was recently involved in a heist where he was double-crossed by his girlfriend.  Along the way, they meet two intriguing women (Karen Sillas and Elina Löwensohn), intriguing enough that the brothers sort of stay put at their house/bungalow.  So, it’s lucky that they find their dad anyway.  I didn’t really catch the main themes while watching the film but I enjoyed the emphatic dialogue, the early 90s fashion, the soundtrack by Yo La Tengo (tracks from May I Sing With Me), and a great dance sequence to Sonic Youth’s Kool Thing that really changes the mood/plot direction of the film.  Later, I watched an interview with Hartley where he states that he was focused on men and their identities in this film and I guess I see it now, that the criminal is stuck in a misguided tough guy persona that he needs to shake off to have a real relationship, he needs to be vulnerable.  Of course, there’s an ironic ending but it works.

  

Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992)

☆ ☆ ☆ 

Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) -- F. F. Coppola

Francis Ford Coppola also tried his hand at the (more than) twice-told tale. His is a stylistically indulgent version with a lot of eye-popping scenes that fortunately distract us from the two types of actors here: those made of ham (Gary Oldman, Anthony Hopkins) and those made of wood (Keanu Reeves, Winona Ryder). In comparison to earlier versions (with the best coming from Murnau and Herzog), Coppola foregrounds the sexual nature of the interactions between Dracula and his prey (and the immortal beloved romance with Mina). Unfortunately, the proceedings drag on a bit more than they should (a tighter version might have been at least a little exciting) and there is nothing at all scary to contemplate. On the plus side, the special effects have been lovingly created in the old school ways without CGI. Worth a look but the missed opportunities are disappointing. (2008 review)

The Player (1992)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Player (1992) – R. Altman

Robert Altman’s “comeback” film (from Michael Tolkin’s script) seems to have lost a bit of its punch in the 25+ years since it was released, likely because the problems with the film industry that it satirized have not only gotten worse, they are simply taken for granted. Movies as a business product rather than an artform? Writers all but ignored? Yer shitting me.  Tim Robbins plays Griffin Mill, the production exec interested only in studio politics, as banal rather than evil -- although Burt Reynolds, among others, thinks he’s an asshole; which is why he begins receiving death-threat postcards from an unknown writer he once dissed.  Taking the bull by the horns, Mill seeks out the likely suspect (Vincent D'Onofrio) and accidentally kills him...and then courts his girlfriend (Greta Scacchi).  Not much human feeling here, nor really among any of the Hollywood camp (save perhaps Cynthia Stevenson as Robbins’ girlfriend/ex-girlfriend).  Soon the Pasadena police (Whoopi Goldberg & Lyle Lovett) are on his trail and slick Peter Gallagher is vying for his job.  But as always with Robert Altman, the loose plot is virtually secondary to the community and its eccentric members (many of whom speak at the same time).  Of course, the most awesome thing about The Player (apart from that long opening tracking shot) is just how many “real” members of the community (celebrities themselves) Altman was able to coax into playing themselves in cameos (or as bit characters). They are all in on the joke (or unfortunately, the joke may be on them, since they are treated simply like tools to boost a film’s commercial viability, as they did for The Player).  This culminates in a great finale – a look at the final cut of the film that a writer (Richard E. Grant) desperately wanted to keep pure (no stars, downbeat ending).  Cynical as hell but right on the money. 

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)

☆ ☆ ☆

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992) – B. Henson

Surprisingly, it stays very faithful to the book, quoting many passages and having many scenes introduced by Charles Dickens himself (Gonzo).  I felt that the staging, settings, and characterisations also seem modelled on my favourite film version of the story (with Alastair Sim in 1951).  It was fun to remember the various muppets from The Muppet Show (those from Sesame Street are absent here), playing bit parts.  The major roles are taken by Michael Caine (Scrooge) and Kermit (Bob Cratchit).  Paul Williams wrote the songs –which are pretty bland and not up to the level of 1970’s Scrooge (with Albert Finney).  In places the story seems abbreviated, particularly when showing Scrooge as a youth in love, but this was probably for the best as attentions of the under 9 crowd were wavering at that point.  There is a lot of comic relief, mostly from Rizzo the Rat and Gonzo (as narrators) but the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come might be scary for some.  Caine does fine but nothing spectacular. This is the first project for the muppets after Jim Henson’s death and it is dedicated to him.

Deep Cover (1992)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Deep Cover (1992) – B. Duke

Laurence Fishburne, in his first starring role, plays a rebellious cop who goes undercover, deep under cover, to infiltrate and destroy a drug syndicate operating in southern California.  His DEA superior (played smarmily by Charles Martin Smith) encourages him to violate the law as he insinuates himself higher and higher up the food chain.  His first break is winning the respect and then loyalty of a slimy lawyer (played with gusto by Jeff Goldblum) who hopes to make it big by selling designer drugs to the cartel.  As a team, they become extremely profitable selling crack cocaine but remain under the thumb of an evil middleman (Gregory Sierra). Things get increasingly out-of-control and violent.  Fishburne narrates the story in voiceover, giving a film noir flavour to the proceedings that could have starred Mitchum or Dick Powell in an earlier age.  Except this movie takes place squarely in a black community suffering from a drug epidemic, an epidemic funded by people from outside the community (Latin America) who are supported by high level American officials (George H. W. Bush is referenced!).  Fortunately, black heroes are on hand, not just Fishburne’s undercover agent (who struggles mightily with the moral ambiguity of his role) but an ordinary cop (Clarence Williams III) who prays for the dealers as well as the victims.  Director Bill Duke keeps things moving at a good clip to a rap/hip-hop soundtrack with some interesting experimental touches (jump cuts like a record being scratched).  It doesn’t all hang together perfectly but this is a far-better-than-average thriller.  

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992)

☆ ☆ ☆

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992) – D. Lynch

I decided to re-watch Fire Walk With Me, the prequel to the original Twin Peaks (filmed in 1992), to see if it gained anything in light of the recent new series in 2017 (which I enjoyed).  Indeed, the first 30 minutes with special agents Chris Isaak and Kiefer Sutherland, was pretty great – with David Lynch as Gordon Cole, David Bowie as Philip Jefferies, Miguel Ferrer as Albert, and Harry Dean Stanton as Carl from the trailer park, all reprising the roles they would play again in 2017 (albeit with Bowie only in flashback).  There is a reference to a Blue Rose case and the same haunting and weird atmosphere found in the latest series.  However, as soon as Isaak finds the “green ring”, that part of the film ends and we enter the story of Laura Palmer, one year later.  This is a bit grim, given that the plot revolves around incest, since Bob has entered Laura’s dad, Leland Palmer.  The ambiguity is that we don’t know if Bob exists or if Laura’s perception is a result of the trauma she is experiencing.  Her drug use and acting out sexually could also be symptoms.  Of course, Twin Peaks fans know that Bob is real and now we know more of his backstory (born in the first atomic test?) and we understand that Leland was not acting of his own accord.  But that doesn’t make the degradation here any easier to take.  Those who wish to experience Lynch’s haunting world (the music, the sets, the debauchery) can find it here – except don’t come into this hoping for the same thrills and puzzles as we found in the last series (after the first half hour, that is). 

  

Basic Instinct (1992)

☆ ☆ ☆

Basic Instinct (1992) – P. Verhoeven

Okay, if you strip away (so to speak) the explicit over-the-top sexual content and the unnecessary characterization of lesbian or bisexual women as murderers, Basic Instinct might actually contain a solid noir-ish plot.  But then this wouldn’t be Paul Verhoeven’s sleazy movie or Joe Eszterhas’s sensationalistic script, I guess.  I skipped this one back in the day and I only watched it now because Jonathan Rosenbaum has it on his 1000 essential films list.  Perhaps he too has also reflected on the noir aspects of the story that might have been filmed in the ‘50s with Dana Andrews or Glenn Ford in the lead as a traumatized cop investigating a suspect who befriends murderers to understand their psychology in order to incorporate it into characters in her novels.  (Let’s set aside how badly psychology is misunderstood on screen – it’s a time honoured tradition).  Sure, the sexual tension would still be present (if not explicit, and perhaps more tense for that reason) and the cop and other characters (internal affairs cop, police department psychologist) could still have more or less the same relationships.  Michael Douglas isn’t right for the part – he seems too phony at times (even Mickey Rourke might have pulled it off better) -- but I’m happy just to reimagine the film as directed by Fritz Lang or Joseph H. Lewis and to forget about all the tawdry bits.