8MM (EIGHT MILLIMETER) Reviewed by Jamie Peck
Like a recipe assembled from scraps of other dishes, "8mm" is less than the sum of its parts, delicious to fans of the dark and brooding though they may be. But, oh, does this two-hour-plus ode to unpleasantness make good on its engaging creative pairing, while a further boost is given by the casting of Nicolas Cage in the lead, one of those progressively unhinged roles the Oscar-winner excels at playing. The hot-button subject matter - pornography - should determine whether uncertain potential viewers will love it or leave it early, though you can probably already tell from this description alone if this is your kind of movie.
That Cage stars as a private dick in a film that heavily incorporates the adult entertainment industry is worth a small chuckle, but this possible in-joke is close to the extent of "8mm"'s humor quotient. Like "Seven," the story is played with almost no comic relief, yet another cause of probable diminishing audience appreciation. (Then again, that didn't stop "Seven" from being a $100 million hit, but that movie only fleetingly relied on sexual violence.) Those seeking cheap, explicit thrills are better off visiting a seedy video store somewhere, however, because Schumacher knows that the unseen is far more terrifying than what's in plain view.
Cage's professional sleuth goes by the name Tom Welles and has just accepted a case from the widow (Myra Carter) of a recently deceased and immensely wealthy steel tycoon. While going through his private things, she located a reel of eight millimeter stock on which a young girl is raped and murdered by a creep wearing a leather mask. Yowza. But is it an actual snuff film or something feigned to give perverts their jollies? And how did it come to be in this rich guy's belongings? Those are the questions Welles gets bankrolled to answer, and he starts by identifying the alleged victim and tracing her back to her hometown.
There, he meets her mother (Amy Morton) but not her, and these scenes, perfectly handled by Schumacher, are a powerful reminder that every missing child is more than just a statistic. This'll have to do - and it does - for "8mm"'s emotional content, because Welles' relationship with his wife (nice work from Catherine Keener) and his new baby are somewhat ill-defined. That flaw hardly matters, though, because "8mm" devotes much of its attention on Welles' unfolding, engrossing search for the truth, and if you can make it through some of the early scenes without the need to exit the theatre, you'll be OK for the long run.
Without giving away too much, Welles' trail leads him into the seamy world of underground sleaze, and needless to say, it isn't a pretty place. The seedy ground he covers with a porn clerk (game Joaquin Phoenix), his only ally, begins to transform him, though it's no fair to say in what ways. Plot twists are guaranteed; some are predictable, some are not, and an example of the latter is a disturbing climax (one of several) that takes place in a rain-soaked graveyard, complete with vivid flashes of lightning. Perhaps Schumacher's gorgeously gaudy "Batman" takes prove he isn't one for restraint, but the stylish overkill of "8mm" works more often than it doesn't.
He does, however, treat the whole porn/snuff area with moderation - and thankfully so. We're treated only to fleeting glimpses (the worst depicts a "nurse" preparing to do something to a "patient" that probably isn't covered on his HMO), but we get a strong enough reading of their explicit content from Cage's bountiful terrified - but eventually desensitized - reaction shots. Those who appreciate this dissection of humanity's dark side can wonder what sort of dreams Andrew Kevin Walker has while they wait for his next screenplay. This much appears to be a given: It'll be solemn, it'll be somber, and it'll have some form of the number nine in its title.
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