Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 4-July-04
Spoiler Rating: Low

The Big Easy (1987)

The Oxford American Thesaurus of Current English lists the following synonyms for "sexy:"

erotic, titillating, suggestive, arousing, exciting, stimulating, provocative, seductive, sensuous, slinky, sexually attractive, alluring, shapely

Now, you could take all of these adjectives and add some colloquialisms like "hot," "mighty fine," and "babelicious," and you still wouldn't do justice to Dennis Quaid in "The Big Easy." Playing the embodiment of New Orleans hedonism, Remy McSwain, the man is smokin', and I ain't jokin'. But if you think an insurrection of hormones has overthrown the rational critic in me, you wouldn't be entirely correct. For this is a big part of "The Big Easy:" getting bowled over by a culture, an atmosphere, an attitude that embraces the good things in life, like food, music, and, oh yes, sex.

Of course, it takes two to tango and Quaid doesn't get sweaty on his own. "The Big Easy" established Ellen Barkin as the successor to early '80s screen siren Kathleen Turner, but as Assistant DA Anne Osborne she doesn't generate heat, she receives it. ("Dear Playgirl: I never do things like this, but I have to tell you about an amazing thing that happened to me ....") Bearing all the hallmarks of the virgin librarian (the glasses, the pearls, the hair always up in a bun), Osborne gets more than she bargained for when her investigation into corrupt New Orleans cops leads to homicide detective McSwain, a fun-loving, wide-grinning, high-strutting Irish-Cajun who believes in kicking back almost as much as he worships the police department. To Remy, cops are the white knights of society even though they bend the rules to make their lives easier. To Anne, people who bend the rules are never in the right, and she aims to make her opinion known both personally and professionally. Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately) for her, their ethical clash is as forceful as their mutual attraction.

The nice thing about Daniel Petrie, Jr.'s fast-paced script is that Anne's awakening to the glories of mattress dancing is only half the story. (When she confesses "I never did have much luck with sex anyway," and Remy plants a big one on her, saying, "Your luck's about to change, chere!", just apply the smelling salts and resume play.) As they wade through a morass of murder and intrigue involving wise guys and voodoo daddies, we find that while Anne may have a lot to learn about fun, she has a thing or two to teach about perception and integrity. The affair at the heart of "The Big Easy" reveals that Remy isn't merely a great roll in the sack, but a man who wants to stand for something. When it becomes apparent that the corruption Anne is investigating endangers his family, his favorite fellow cop (Ned Beatty), and everything he has always believed in, he takes a previously unimaginable stand against it.

I haven't been to New Orleans (yet), so I'm not sure how much of the film's zydeco-happy, Mardi-Gras-crazy, gator-loving schtick rings true. But it provides a good backdrop for the story of a woman who needs to get laid and a man who needs to get a clue, two dispensers of justice who want the same thing in the end. In the manner of its singular hero, "The Big Easy" combines sexy with substance to highly pleasurable effect.

Copyright © 2004 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.