8MM

You never can tell which Nicolas Cage is going to show up in his movies.  Will it be the Academy Award-winning actor?  Usually not.  Will it be the dead-eyed action hero?  You've got a decent chance of that, but Vegas odds are always on Nicolas Cage, the ridiculous over-actor.  When you combine those odds with the chances of a post-Batman and Robin Joel Schumacher directing a good movie, you get 8MM.  Of course, Cage and Schumacher could have theoretically teamed up for an over-the-top action romp, full of ridiculous explosions and tough guy dialogue; it wouldn't have been very good, but it would have been watchable.  Instead, this is a movie about snuff films, which are by definition not full of hilarity.

Yeah, that's how I react to Nicolas Cage movies, too.

Tom Welles (Nicolas Cage) is a private detective that specializes in seedy cases in which his photos and research frequently end up as evidence in divorce proceedings.  I bet his wife loves his job.  One day, he gets a call to visit a new widow.  Her late husband left her a vast fortune, but she found something odd in his safe: an 8MM film that depicted a rape culminating in what appears to be murder.  The widow wants Welles to find out whether the murder was real or staged, no matter the cost.  After assuring her that snuff films are just an urban legend, Welles agrees to take the case, expecting to uncover a privately-financed movie with some fancy special effects.  What he finds does not support that theory.  Welles does some boring grunt work and manages to stumble across a missing persons photo that resembles the girl from the movie.  As odds-defying as that it, Welles manages to track down her family, discover evidence in her bedroom that neither her family nor the police found, and learn that she went to Hollywood.  As earth-shaking as that concept may be --- a runaway girl who starred in a porn film went to California?  Gasp! --- Welles quickly realized that he did not know how to dig any deeper into this case without help.  Enter Max California (Joaquin Phoenix).

...and he works in a porn shop?  Chick magnet!

Max is a failed musician and belly shirt aficionado who works the counter in a dingy sex shop.  Welles hires Max to help him enter the pornography underworld and the two begin to piece together who could have made a snuff film and who would have acted in it.  Hint: if you see a recognizable actor being questioned by Nicolas Cage in this movie, he's probably involved in the snuff film.

I'd be sweating bullets, too, if this was the best role I could get.

The acting in 8MM is definitely not for fans of subtlety.  Nicolas Cage spends a lot of time grimacing and looking tired.  I don't blame him.  His character had to watch hours and hours of low-budget weird porn before he found enough clues to track down the killers.  Joaquin Phoenix was a little better, but that's just by comparison, and his character's costumes were pretty ridiculous.  I'm not saying that people in California don't wear baggy leather pants every day with their proto-Ed Hardy T-shirts, but there isn't a scene in this movie where I don't want to smack Phoenix just on general principles.  James Gandolfini was fine as a low-life porn producer and Peter Stormare was his typically slimy self as a high-end low-life porn producer, but this is a film that relied heavily on Cage and Phoenix.

Creepy: a new fragrance by Peter Stormare

There are a few other actors in small roles, but none of them have any great impact on the quality of the film.  Anthony Heald is unsympathetic (surprise, surprise), Catherine Keener is kind of bitchy, Norman Reedus is a loser with a bad haircut, and Chris Bauer wears a gimp outfit.  It is worth noting that Bauer's character, The Machine, has occasionally popped up in the sports world.  San Francisco Giants closer --- and professional sports' most entertaining personality, since the retirement of Shaquille O'Neal --- Brian Wilson is apparently a fan.  You can spot Chris "The Machine" Bauer's likeness at around the 4:20 mark.


So...that's kind of weird.  Anyway...

There's really not much that goes right with 8MM.  Director Joel Schumacher placed himself in a tough spot.  The obvious trapping that comes with making a movie about snuff films is that the movie winds up being as exploitative as the snuff films themselves.  I will give Schumacher credit for not falling into that trap.  However, to avoid seeming exploitative, I think 8MM loses its teeth. 

If this isn't a movie that is meant to shock you, then what is it?  A ludicrously tangled mystery?  An expose on pornography's seedy underbelly?  An argument for the banality of evil?  You could choose any of those, but none make this a satisfying movie.  The mystery is too easily untangled, possibly because the mystery focused on "Who made this snuff film?" instead of "Why was this snuff film made?"  The dark side of porn is a potentially disturbing focus, but 8MM just has Cage wander through a couple creepy basement VHS flea markets; nothing is really said or done about anything but this one particular snuff film.  Perhaps sensing that this movie is neither shocking nor captivating, Schumacher changes the tone of the film, transforming Cage from an investigator to an avenger in the final act.  It is here that the bad guys explain themselves, and that explanation --- which is meant to be chilling --- is simply underwhelming.

Less sensual than it looks.

Personally, I can't think of a story that involved snuff films that I would have enjoyed.  Maybe that's just me, though.  I assumed that 8MM would try to be disturbing and maybe take a stand on the issue (murder is bad, perhaps?).  It doesn't.  It's a detective story where the audience is only allowed to see snippets of what Nic Cage is reacting to; that means that Cage's acting needs to convey our disgust for us, and he turns in a very melodramatic performance that undermines that notion.  I'm not saying that I need to see the damn titular movie --- not seeing a prized object can work wonders, as in The Maltese Falcon and Pulp Fiction.  The script and the acting weren't anywhere near where they needed to be to pull that off, though.  Hell, Cage's character lost his private detective credibility in the beginning of the film, when he hides his smoking habit from his wife by spraying air freshener, just like a fifteen year-old.  Hint: change your clothes and hide your ashtrays, too, dumbass.  If he can't do that convincingly, how is the audience supposed to buy into anything else he does in this film?

This movie just plain sucks.  There is nothing quite like a film that is trying to be edgy and watching it fail.  I would have enjoyed laughing at 8MM, but it is a joyless train wreck that is at least thirty minutes too long.  Nicolas Cage does a poor job acting, which is not terribly surprising, and he appears to have no fun doing it.  His character is stupid and without charm.  The script is surprisingly dull and the supporting cast is mostly unmemorable.  This is a surprisingly bad movie with a surprisingly bad story, and I went in with low expectations.  The only redeeming quality this film has --- aside from a surprising second life in sports interviews --- is that it was too draining and incompetent to earn my hatred.

The Silence of the Lambs

Anthony Hopkins holds the record for least amount of screen time in an Academy Award-winning Best Actor role for his part as Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs.  That's not a terribly obscure factoid, but it's worth pointing out because Hopkins really steals the show in his sixteen minutes on screen.  Why do I bring this up?  Well, despite Hopkins' scene-stealing performance, the movie isn't about Hannibal Lecter.  It's not even about chasing down serial killers.  It's about Clarice Starling.  "What?  A girl?"  No, really.

Clarice (Jodie Foster) is an FBI agent-in-training that gets the opportunity to tag along with one of her instructors, Jack Crawford (Scott Glenn), as part of an FBI task force.  The task force is focusing on an ongoing hunt for a serial killer that the FBI has nicknamed Buffalo Bill because he skins his victims.  Using it-takes-a-thief logic, Crawford sends Clarice to a maximum security mental facility to pick the brain of the incarcerated serial killer, Dr. Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter, hoping that she can persuade Lecter to give his undoubtedly intelligent input on the case.  The film spends some time checking up on Buffalo Bill and his latest soon-to-be victim, but the bulk of the film is spent on Clarice decoding Lecter's input and investigating those leads.  Once she is assigned to Lecter duty, Clarice's time in the big leagues with the task force seems done.  Of course, that is only until her intelligence (and Lecter's help) leads her to the killer without any back-up.

In some ways, this film is a common horror/thriller.  The climax is essentially a cat-and-mouse game, one not terribly different from what has come before it.  Buffalo Bill's tendencies are taken from real-life serial killer M.O.'s (Ted Bundy and Ed Gein, most notably), so his horrific work is also somewhat familiar.  Heck, this isn't even the first movie to feature Hannibal Lecter, although the role was played by Brian Cox in Manhunter.  So what makes this movie so special?  It is only the third movie to have swept the major Academy Award categories (Best Picture, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Director - Jonathan Demme, Best Actor - Anthony Hopkins, and Best Actress - Jodie Foster), so there is clearly something that separates this film from the many others that it superficially resembles.

One of the primary differences is the story's focus.  So often, movies of this type boil down the story to one cop and one criminal gunning for each other.  Here, more so than in Thomas Harris' novel of the same name, the focus is on Clarice's experience on the case.  It is not about how she solves the case, but her complete experience.  Yes, her experience is surrounded by one major case, but her experience is so much more than just the case; I cannot think of another movie where an officer of the law character is not completely defined by their case, which makes this a very unique approach.  You can notice this from the clever use of the cameras (it often assumes her point-of-view), but the script is just as responsible for this.  The opening credits have Clarice running through a training obstacle course; this course is not important to the story, so the only reason to show it is to let the audience learn something about her character.  First off, she's a woman surrounded by men that smirk as they see her struggle.  More importantly, though, she works through her troubles and appears to be succeeding.  Instead of treating this as an ensemble cast, the choice to stick with Clarice is really what makes it stand out.  That choice is why the relationship between Clarice and Hannibal is so compelling and that is why the climactic scenes are effective and creepy.  Following Clarice around so closely makes her readily identifiable, likable, and impressive.  This almost never happens with female leads in these genres, and her gender plays a part in what makes this movie so noteworthy.  Jodie Foster does a great job with this unique role; she is understated an earnest, both of which are essential for making this character work.

Demme's direction is fantastic here, as well.  There are a lot of good uses of music and lighting and there are ongoing themes and symbols (I can't be the only one who keeps noticing red, white and blue all over the place in this film) and there are clear parallels between Clarice's journey to meet Hannibal and when she chases Buffalo Bill.  As someone who notices (or, at least, tries to notice) the subtle things that directors do, I cannot express how much of a treat it is to see so much done so well here.  That is enough to deserve acclaim, but that doesn't even cover his work with the actors.  Do you know how easily the first Hannibal scene could have been overacted?  Yes, the actor is ultimately the one doing the heavy lifting with the part, but the director decides what a good idea is and what makes the final cut.  Sometimes that means just getting out of the actors' way.  Whatever the case in this movie, Demme did a great job of getting the best work from his cast and using it well.

The supporting cast is good here, despite most of the roles being cameos.  Scott Glenn is decent in his role as Clarice's superior; he comes off as condescending and confident, which are probably the right traits for his character to exude.  Ted Levine is frightening and a little funny as Buffalo Bill.  Levine has a deep voice, but it seems to croak out of him here, making his disturbing acts seem all the more unnatural.  I have always believed that Levine gets short changed when people discuss this film because the focus is (justifiably) on Anthony Hopkins' performance, but the movie would have felt uneven if Levine was not able to construct a movie monster of his own.  Anthony Heald has a knack for playing pompous jerks, and this is one of his best roles.  His petty antics amidst a serious criminal investigation ring true, and the closing scene with him always makes me smile, despite the serious context.  The rest of the cast is made up of primarily television actors, but they don't distract from the more important roles at all, which is a feat unto itself.

And then there is Anthony Hopkins' performance.  One of the big reasons this film works is because Hopkins was able to live up to the film building up to his character.  The elaborate check in process in his Baltimore prison, the enormous cage when he is in Washington, DC, the face mask --- all of these make Lecter seem terrifying before you even get a chance for Hopkins to act.  Now, picture Gene Hackman (who nearly played the part) saying "Good evening, Clarice."  It just doesn't feel right.  Almost any other take on the character would have been a let down, given the reactions that the other characters have to Lecter.  It's not difficult to believe that Anthony Hopkins can convincingly play an intelligent character (he's got a British accent --- the work is half done for him already), but the type of intelligence he displays here is ingenious.  Instead of playing Lecter as a psychopath, or even as a less funny version of the Joker, Hopkins plays the character so cold and calculating that he seems almost mechanical (Perhaps even War Games-ish?) at times.  The unblinking stare he gives Clarice only reinforces his lack of humanity and his analytical prowess.  And then, out of nowhere, he'll make a wry comment about Senator Martin's shoes.  Lecter's coldness is what makes him frightening, but his ability to charm (even when he's insulting someone) is what makes him dangerous.  Hopkins did a fantastic job balancing the two tendencies, which lends a plausibility to the relationship he and Jodie Foster build together.

It's rare to find a film that can balance directorial voice, high quality acting, and a story that the masses readily embrace.  Any one of those qualities is enough to make a movie recommendable.  This film goes above and beyond.  It is disturbing, yet artfully done.  The acting is honest and empowering, but also frightening.  The story is familiar, and yet distinct.  Yes, the one thing you remember about the movie is undoubtedly Hopkins being creepy, but this movie is so much deeper than that, and so much more rewarding.