With a blog titled Money Shots, I feel obligated to write about Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights (1997) for a few reasons. On one level, it’s a movie filled with shot after shot that could be considered worthy of monetary compensation. On another level – porn! The title of this blog…a movie about the porn industry – it just makes sense. So, with stars perfectly aligned, with penises perfectly erect, and with fake boobies purposely equally as erect (seriously, those things don’t move; it’s weird), here we go:
The clip associated with this entry that you (hopefully) just watched is the first 10 minutes of the film (duh). Those are 10 minutes of your life that you aren’t getting back. That’s not a pleasant thought, but don’t worry. You made a smart investment. What you’ve just watched is the best first 10 minutes of any movie ever made. Hyperbole? Certainly. Inaccurate? I honestly don’t think so.
A great opening should grab the attention of the audience and get them involved in the movie right away. At the 55 second mark the film begins by bursting onto the scene with bright colors, loud music, and incredible camerawork. For the next 2:52, we’re treated to one lengthy take that follows the inhabitants of a glamorous, glitzy night club. This is what’s called a master shot, which is usually a long take that follows the action of the characters in one specific location. It was initially used (think 30s, 40s, and 50s) to give the audience a sense of place so they could easily follow along once the film began to cut between characters within the same space. These days, while still serving the same purpose, the technique has become much more of a stylistic calling card because master shots have become more and more complex and can be extremely difficult to pull off. For instance, compare this shot from Boogie Nights to the one from my last entry on The Royal Tenenbaums. In Wes Anderson’s film, the camera just pans from left to right while showing the different characters. Compared to all of the different kinds of camera movements in the Boogie Nights master shot, that one looks almost amateur. That isn’t an insult to The Royal Tenenbaums; it’s just to show that the camerawork in Boogie Nights is tremendously accomplished. It’s exhilarating, dizzying filmmaking that is certainly attention grabbing.
The other intelligent thing this master shot does is introduce the audience to the movie’s characters. This serves a practical use for an audience, but the nature in which these characters are established in Boogie Nights is what truly makes this a great opening. The film intentionally opens with a display of breathtaking spectacle and shows its characters in this extravagant environment. Shown all in one take, and with multiple complex camera movements, the filmmaking mirrors the stylish, showy nature of the club and the character’s lives. In contrast with all of this showmanship is the final five and a half minutes shown in the clip. This last half of the clip shows the uglier side of this kind of life, one complete with prostitution, alcohol and drug use, a woman begging to see her child, and infidelity (this one actually happens a few seconds after this clip ends, but it’s what William H. Macy sees in the room he begins walking toward…you’ll just have to trust me on that). This mini montage serves the same purpose as the opening master shot – it introduces the film’s characters and begins to develop them. The shot selection here is much more conventional and workmanlike. There’s nothing showy about how any of these scenes are presented, nor should there be. The camerawork mirrors what is being displayed.
It’s probably important to take a second here and mention the structure of the movie. The film’s narrative is a classic American rise and fall story. This is far from an uncommon story arc in American films. From Citizen Kane to Goodfellas, it’s one of the most distinctly American stories told in all of cinema. In this particular incarnation of the story, the rise takes place in the 1970s during the Golden Age of Porn, and the fall takes place in the early-to-mid 80s, known for reveling in excess. The movie chronicles Eddie Adams/Dirk Diggler’s (Mark Wahlberg) rise to pornography prominence during the 70s and fall during the 80s. The first half of the film (the rise) is depicted similarly to the opening master shot – glitzy, glamorous, and carefree. The second half of the film is shown similarly to the second half of the clip that shows the depressing “real” lives of the characters – excess ridden, dim, and kind of sad. Those opening minutes, while introducing and developing characters efficiently, also serve as a microcosm of the structure of the overall film. This rise and fall is visually foreshadowed...
Boogie Nights is an ambitious, sprawling epic. It aims high and wears its influences proudly on its sleeve (films as diverse as Singin’ in the Rain, A Star is Born, a good chunk of Martin Scorsese’s filmography, and another good chunk of Robert Altman’s filmography). The movie is part Hollywood satire, part dissection of the American Dream, all tied together by a classic loss of innocence storyline. It’s a movie with big ideas, but what makes it truly special are the characters. Personally, the best kinds of movies (and books, plays, etc.) are those that can merge character with idea. Boogie Nights is a film that has almost as many ideas as it does characters, all well-grounded and realistic. There are no explicit references to anything the movie is about; it’s all implied through the characters and filmmaking. It’s important for an ensemble piece to be as efficient as possible with character development. Otherwise, you could easily end up with a four hour movie. In order to do that, you can’t always just use dialogue between characters to develop them. It’s something that should be done visually as often as possible, and it’s something that Boogie Nights does terrifically. As I’ve shown, that all begins with the opening of the movie, specifically with how these characters are introduced.
Boogie Nights is a film where style and substance mesh perfectly and with purpose. That’s a concept many filmmakers lose sight of, but Paul Thomas Anderson nailed it in 1997. This is never more present than it is in the opening minutes of the movie. Those opening minutes go a really long way in establishing character and theme within the film. Simply put, it’s how you’re supposed to open a picture.
No comments:
Post a Comment