Spotlight
Spotlight Date: 23-November-03
Spoiler Rating: Low
Boogie Nights (1997)
The first time I saw "Boogie Nights," the film broke with only 20 minutes left to go. I remember sitting in the theater with my hands over my ears, humming a quiet "la la la" to myself as the manager complied with the audience's wishes and described the ending (which I preferred to see first-hand the following day). The amazing thing was, I wasn't angry or disappointed by this bit of bad luck, because what I had seen so far had left me euphorically consumed by a single, all-important thought, one which had never occurred to me so strongly: My god, I love the movies! "Boogie Nights," the second film from writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson, opened my eyes to the power of cinema to describe the sad, silly, and beautiful potential of humanity.
Like Anderson's other movies, "Boogie Nights" is a story about love and family told with a unique and sap-free twist. Set in the San Fernando Valley from 1977 to 1983, the movie traces the rise and fall of Eddie Adams (Mark Wahlberg), a small town kid with big dreams and a bigger, um, manhood who finds his life's purpose as porno king Dirk Diggler. Having fled an unhappy home, Dirk gratefully nestles into the bosom of a new family comprised of filmmaker Jack Horner (Burt Reynolds) and his troupe of "actors" (including Julianne Moore, John C. Reilly, Don Cheadle, and Heather Graham), enjoying skyrocketing success until hubris, drugs, and the decline of the X-rated film send him crashing back to earth. At the end of his rope, Dirk must either sink back into painful obscurity or return to the people who love and understand him.
The wild and crazy lives of Dirk and his friends include some unsettling moments, but they never put you off or make you feel low; this is because Anderson's pictures are heavy on character and plot, but heavier still on atmosphere and heart. Right off the bat, "Boogie Nights" grabs you with a long, fluid shot that dips around and into a discotheque, swiftly introducing the players while establishing the era and environment in which they live. Anderson repeatedly uses this sort of extended, kinetic take to create a very particular sense of excitement and affinity, drawing the viewer into the characters' world of dedicated hedonism. The rompish mood is furthered by his typically striking use of music, and by a sly sense of humor that becomes more noticeable with each viewing. (The humor emerges not only through dialogue and action but through the direction itself, as when the camera follows a swimmer into a pool, causing the soundtrack to become burbly.)
Weaving in and out of the lively scenes are the many lost souls of "Boogie Nights," misguided men and women who avoid real sleaziness (mostly) by means of their sympathetic fragility and their relentless pursuit of acceptance, escape, and belonging. (As in "Magnolia," the only one not accorded forgiveness is the one who fails to respect the claims of innocence.) One of Anderson's strengths as a director is his ability to attract and inspire a large and top notch cast, and here he elicits career-defining performances from Reynolds and Wahlberg as the surrogate father and his prodigal son. (That Anderson regulars Moore, Reilly, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and William H. Macy make an impressive showing almost goes without saying.)
Brought to life by impeccable artistry on both sides of the camera, the individual yearnings and mutual attachments of the characters overcome the crass sexuality and occasional violence of their lives. In the end, "Boogie Nights" conveys a message of hope and redemption through its spirit of rapturous affection, a spirit which — much like the movie that extols it — can rise above the failings of our dirty little world.
Copyright © 2003 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.
