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WSWS : Arts
Review : Film
Reviews
A comment on Boogie Nights
By Emanuele Saccarelli
4 July 1998
Having read a few of the almost unanimously positive reviews
by critics, I am convinced that Boogie Nights (written
and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson) is a movie the mainstream
media was able to praise only to the extent that they either misunderstood
it or refused to seriously analyze it.
The movie's trailers present it with the glossy, innocuous
package of a sort of retro homage to the 1970s: perhaps mildly
controversial due to its subject (the sex, the drugs, the circus
of futility and degradation that was the porno film industry of
the late 1970s), but with enough allusions of moralistic outrage
to pacify the more puritanical factions of the critics. As a narrow,
voyeuristic peek into the pitiful absurdities of such a world,
the movie would represent just another glitzy and useless work
to which the audiences are sadly becoming accustomed. This is
the Boogie Nights the critics were ready to praise: part
Pulp Fiction in its stylistic elements, in its strident,
vain violence, part Casino in its chronicle of the decline
of the nobler days of an industry narrated through the tragic
life of its characters.
While it retains certain nihilistic edges, I believe instead
that Boogie Nights is a powerful and ambitious movie that
deals with a number of important questions. Far from remaining
bound to the literal confines of its story, the film can in fact
be read as a broad critique of a society in which human relations
seem to flow only through the rubbing of genitalia. The depth
and power of its investigation into the process of construction
of self-worth and identity in a capitalist society, and the way
in which psychologically damaged individuals relate, or fail to
relate to each other, endow Boogie Nights with both artistic
merit and social insight.
When Jack Horner, the porno movie director played by Burt Reynolds,
first meets the would-be star actor, small talk quickly and naturally
leads to the apparently established convention of asking just
which type of sexual favor he was expecting, as identified by
its price. The quality of human interaction in the movie does
not at all improve after this scene. Characters do not develop
as fully credible men and women. This, however, does not compromise
the film. On the contrary, effectively integrated with other artistic
elements, such a quality creates and spurs instead valuable insights,
as it encourages the viewer to reflects upon the kind of cultural
values that are fostered in contemporary society.
The subject of pornography naturally leads toward these considerations.
Pornography is the commodification of sexual relations; a more
modern, sanitized, impersonal, and therefore more peculiarly bourgeois
form of prostitution. Instead of accepting the moralistic posturing
of the defenders of the status quo, one must consider the possibility
that, far from being a perverse deviation from the dominant values
of a capitalist society, pornography might in fact be the most
logical and limpid translation of bourgeois values into the sexual
sphere. Boogie Nights decisively points in that direction.
Acts and relations that are natural and spontaneous are turned
into commodities to be purchased and sold.
The movie inspires the viewer to even broader reflections than
those regarding sexuality.
"Everybody is blessed with one special thing", remarks
Dirk Diggler (Mark Wahlberg), referring to the size of his penis
before his career as a porno star even begins. Indeed, the movie
establishes early on just what kind of special things become valued
and marketable. In spite of a documentary depicting him as a Renaissance
man of sorts, it is clear that the main character is able to find
acceptance, financial remuneration, and even some semblance of
dignity only to the extent that he employs, and even identifies
with his penis. Rollergirl (Heather Graham), a young porno actress
who refuses to take off her skates even during sex, drops out
of school after being mockingly reminded of her only valuable
talents by a peer in the middle of an exam. Buck Swope (Don Cheadle),
the amusing African American porno actor and stereo salesman,
fails to close a sale for his insistence on playing his favorite
Country and Western tunes as he demonstrates the acoustic marvels
of an 8-track to a potential customer. He too, does not fit the
hip and ethnic role assigned to him.
These human beings are therefore pressured to remain monodimensional
and to market only the most degrading of their talents. "Diggler's
success can only grow and grow and grow", reads one of the
glowing reviews of the young porno star. But if in such a field
of employment human worth is directly measured by sexual prowess,
one must ask whether similar mechanisms are also at work in other
realms of society. Is it not true, to be more explicit, that the
way in which Dirk Diggler is allowed to make a living is only
the most obvious expression of other, more subtle, but no less
obscene and demeaning forms of prostitution that constitute the
whole of socioeconomic relations in a capitalist society? Boogie
Nights leads to this conclusion by following the shorter,
more literal path. Other films, such as Glengarry Glenross,
arrive at it through more arduous, and perhaps more rewarding
trails.
One of the weakest parts of the movie is the scene of a divorce
hearing between the porno star Amber, a mother figure of sorts,
and her ex-husband. Here the connection between what is present
overtly in the porno industry and covertly in the rest of society
could have been made more tangible. The ex-husband, eager to pontificate
about Amber's moral failings, is depicted visually as an unhappy
and wretched figure in his own right. But even a few, quick incursions
into his life could have more effectively reinforced a connection
that is present in the movie in an implied form.
A New Year's party for 1980 marks the major transition in the
film. The camera lingers on the sign burying the 70s and welcoming
the 80s. An historical element is introduced as even more ruthless
economic imperatives affect the industry. Its future becomes videotapes
and amateurs rather than film and actors. In an effort to cut
costs, these new standards are imposed by the producers on Jack,
who vainly attempts to resist by defending the artistic merit
of the old ways. In a field where most artistic considerations
are obliterated a priori, the same familiar mechanisms still operate
to vanquish all residue of genuine and valuable expression. So
even Jack, shameless speculator of human flesh and copulation,
paradoxically has room to complain about the degrading aspects
of market logic.
Suddenly, the idyllic and naïve illusions of peace and
love of the 60s and 70s are gone. Pathological human relations
turn into overtly violent and destructive ones. Starting with
a murder and suicide at the party, the film begins a crescendo
of brutality. Boogie Nights does indulge in the same violent
paroxysm that has come to characterize contemporary cinema (
Pulp Fiction, LA Confidential). In one scene, the newlywed
Buck Swope stops to buy doughnuts for his pregnant wife. Impeccably
dressed in a white tuxedo, after carefully choosing which doughnuts
to purchase, he is caught in the middle of a robbery. Within a
few seconds, the robber, an armed vigilante-type customer, and
the cashier, are all dead; the splattered brain of the latter
now adorning Buck's face and dress. The only one alive, Buck notices
the bag full of money left on the floor, grabs it, and runs away
after a few moments of reflection.
However reminiscent of the cinematic calamities inflicted upon
us by Tarantino and his epigones, the scene, along with the rest
of the film, actually works. The movie does not express vain fascination
with violence and utterly perverse human relations that remain
unexplained and inexplicable. Its esthetic element does not constitute
the central pillar of the movie, as in Pulp Fiction. Boogie
Nights shocks the viewer not with its stubborn refusal to
explain the brutality it depicts, but by skillfully stripping
the existing social relations to their naked, obscene core.
An even more intense scene featuring a rip-off drug sale to
a psychotic, wealthy addict who was just as intoxicated by assorted
narcotics as he was by bad rock and roll, concludes the crescendo
of violence without, unfortunately, adding much to the movie.
This scene is engaging and in many ways remarkable, but it is
essentially a thrilling rollercoaster ride that returns the viewer
right to the point he started. Having spent tremendous energy
for such a meager output, Boogie Nights recovers by concluding
in a somber and appropriate way as all the characters meekly return
to the comfortably devastating social niches that were assigned
to them.
Buck, having found the money to open his own business, forgoes
his Country and Western inclinations to star in a pathetic and
hilarious Hip-Hop TV commercial to promote his store. The Hispanic
porn actor wannabe and club owner opens the joint of his dreams
only to find out that his name was misspelled on the huge neon
sign. Amber stands in front of the mirror and is complimented
by Jack for being "the foxiest bitch in the whole world."
And in front of the mirror, in the very last scene, we also find
Dirk, preparing for a movie after a long hiatus. Everyone is ultimately
forced to find fragments of dignity and self-worth in that "special
something they were blessed with", even as their humanity
is grotesquely flattened and deformed. This is by no means a happy
ending, even for such a gloomy film. Dirk comforts himself and
his dangling organ, by now completely identified as one and the
same, with the reminder that he is a big shining star.
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