BOOGIE NIGHTS (New Line) Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Julianne Moore, Burt Reynolds, Heather Graham, Don Cheadle. Screenplay: Paul Thomas Anderson. Producers: Lloyd Levinn, John Lyons, Paul Thomas Anderson, Joanne Sellar. Director: Paul Thomas Anderson. MPAA Rating: R (sexual situations, nudity, profanity, adult themes, drug use, violence). Running Time: 150 minutes. Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.
Potential viewers who may be scared away from BOOGIE NIGHTS by its subject matter, take note: you're not likely to find a more potent morality tale anywhere this year. The milieu may be the pornography industry of the late 1970s and early 1980s, but those with prurient interest need not apply. BOOGIE NIGHTS is that rare example of riveting film-making which also instructs, so unobtrusively you almost can't tell you're being instructed. Never has the self-delusional narcissism of the "Me Decade" been portrayed with such an eye to the repercussions. This is the story not just of an endless party, but of the harrowing morning after the party finally does end.
Writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson opens his narrative in 1977, swooping through a San Fernando Valley disco as he introduces his principle characters: adult film director Jack Horner (Burt Reynolds); his leading lady Amber Waves (Julianne Moore); perpetually skating ingenue Rollergirl (Heather Graham); black leading man Buck Swope (Don Cheadle) and a 17-year-old busboy named Eddie Adams (Mark Wahlberg). Horner sees something in the young man -- not the least of which is his spectacular male endowment -- which encourages him to bring Eddie into his film-making family. Re-christened Dirk Diggler, the new stud on the block becomes an instant sensation in the industry headlining the erotic adventures of private eye Brock Landers.
And just as instantly, he gets caught up in the glitter and glory of the 70s in Southern California. BOOGIE NIGHTS does a spectacular job of re-creating its era, with its Pee-Chee folders, 8-track tapes and Fresca, but its greater triumph is making the tunnel vision of its characters both hilarious and pathetic. When Jack's sincere pronouncement that he longs to make story-centered sex films clashes with our glimpses of the mechanical, blank-faced films he is creating, it's enough to make you laugh out loud; when Dirk proudly shows off his "imported Italian nylon" print shirts, it's like watching a smug dinosaur blissfully unaware of his own impending extinction. The characters in BOOGIE NIGHTS have no sense that everything they do and everything they enjoy will soon be considered utterly ridiculous -- or worse, that they will cast a shadow over the rest of their lives.
That is exactly what happens as BOOGIE NIGHTS blasts into the 80s with a literal bang. Anderson takes the story on a darker turn, watching the characters discover consequences for their actions they never anticipated. The pace flags somewhat in the second half hour, but in a way it had to -- after the coke-fuelled pool parties, all that remains to show us is the inevitable, painful hangover. It is here that the exceptional cast truly begins to shine: the always dazzling Julianne Moore as a mother in search of children; a surprisingly dignified Burt Reynolds becoming a disgusted auteur of the amateur video era; Don Cheadle as an aspiring entrepreneur who finds his past thwarting his attempt to go legit; and Mark Wahlberg as a cocaine addict who discovers his one true talent vanishing with the drug's effect on his ability to "perform." Appropriately, there isn't much about the final 45 minutes of BOOGIE NIGHTS which could be considered "fun." Cautionary story-telling rarely gets this grim, electrifying and compelling.
The most talked-about moment in BOOGIE NIGHTS will probably be the final shot, in which Wahlberg finally displays the equipment (prosthetically-enhanced, if you must know) which has been the subject of so much discussion through the rest of the film. It would be easy to consider that moment gratuitious, but it would be just as inappropriate as thinking of BOOGIE NIGHTS just as a movie about the porno business. In effect, the whole film is about the ultimate "dick thing," a group of people who simply can't see the world beyond what's going on between their legs. Dirk's pep talk to his own genitalia undercuts the seemingly idyllic conclusion which precedes it -- it turns out he hasn't really learned much of anything. Viewers, on the other hand, have a chance to learn more than they might expect from BOOGIE NIGHTS...for instance, that sometimes a sex film isn't just a sex film.
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 boogie fevers: 9.
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