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Saint Jack (1979)
An essay on the virtues of Saint Jack
Peter Bogdanovich's "Saint Jack" is a lost gem from the '70s Golden Era of the director. Relatively obscure due to poor distribution (its million dollar budget was the most producer Roger Corman ever spent on a film, goodbye marketing), this is a forgotten classic. Bogdanovich worships at the altar of '40s cinema and although this film has plenty of classic Hollywood style (i.e. Hitchcock-like POV sequences) the overall tone feels closer to a Cassavetes indie film, which would make sense since you have freakin' Ben Gazzara in the lead role. The naturalistic feel and gritty style sucks you in and transports you right onto the hot streets of Singapore.
The film airdrops us into the life of Jack Flowers, an American ex-pat in Vietnam War era Singapore who's in the cat-house business. Gazzara inhabits the role of big pimp daddy, sleazy yet gregarious, always making moves, friend to all creatures of the night. He's got some hard-boiled noir detective in him as well, an old school man's man (the dialogue is often a His Girl Friday style patter that's somehow entirely charming in this setting). He OWNS this part, so natural in it, brimming with life, big and bold, full of dirty jokes and barroom anecdotes. Jack Flowers is the man to see if you're looking for a good time.
"Saint Jack" is invaluable as a historical document of a sleazy grimy Singapore that isn't there anymore. Greasy, dirty and beautiful, you can smell the seamy hot night air. We get a wonderful feel for the city as Jack hustles around town to maintain his stable of gals, including a photo album full of "billy-boys" (beautiful Asian trannies; we get to see a couple of 'em get down to the theme from Goldfinger, which will never sound the same). There are plenty of female hookers as well like the lovable and sexy Judy, a straight talking no-nonsense breath of fresh air; she knows exactly what to say to cut a tall drunken obnoxious snob down to size. The chemistry between Jack and his girls is wonderful; always a kind word for the ladies, he knows exactly what to say to a woman to put a bounce in her step. Jack's pimp hand is strong but it's not malicious or violent; he rules with love. This may be a movie fantasy pimp but I'm on board with him being the Oskar Schindler of pimps, which would be one reason for the film's title.
The film's three acts are framed by three annual visits from William Leigh, a British auditor from Hong Kong, played touchingly by Denholm Elliot. He's kind of a nerd, a bit of an outsider, insecure and frail, but there's something genuinely nice about him, something that makes him an easy target for the loud drunken British louts at the bar. He doesn't connect with his fellow countrymen but rather forms an unlikely yet strong friendship with Jack. I suppose the pimp & the accountant bond over their common disaffection for conventional society. Jack is all for debunking sexual taboos, making him even more of an outsider in a land full of prejudiced Chinese. William seems numbed by a life of crunching figures, finding the insatiable desires of capitalism distasteful. He resists temptation but not in a self-righteous manner (just obliviously dorky, but sweet).
A simple dissolve airdrops us into the second act and Jack's new venture, a gorgeous bordello mansion. The place is hopping and Jack's dreams seem close to fruition, but his new success has drawn the ire of local Triad thugs. Jack's been dodging a Triad beating for a while but his new sex palace has seriously messed with their money. Gangsters don't play nice and Jack struggles to keep his typical cool under such extreme duress. (His threat to dropkick a pervy little Triad dude is priceless.) Things don't turn out so well for Jack but he rolls with the punches, his skills always in demand, and gets involved providing a little R&R for the boys. We learn that the army's had a long history in the cat-house business dating back to the Civil War when a General Hooker made the suggestion, as told by the CIA heavy played by Bogdanovich himself. He's described this as his Vietnam film and though the story's pretty removed from the war, we get an impression of the zeitgeist that results from Western powers sticking their noses in where it doesn't belong. We witness signs of the spread of consumer culture like wildfire as it seduces and devours everything in its path.
The final act concerns Jack's role in a gov't plot to sandbag a senator who's a little too big for his britches (and happens to have a weakness for young Chinese boys). Jack faces a moral dilemma when he's offered the job to take down the senator. Can he live with destroying a man over his liberal opinions, exposing his kinky sexual desires? If authority asks you to hurt someone, should that authority then be questioned? Can a pimp possibly have a higher moral standard than a gov't official? If morality were his only concern, there's not much of a dilemma but Jack needs a job and there's a lot of cash on the table, enough to send him home to America which he misses dearly. (An especially reflective moment has Jack stare longingly at a world map that displays the time in his hometown of Buffalo, NY.) His inner conflict is expressed during a beautiful near-silent cinematic sequence (like a Melville heist) as he stalks the senator, creeping through the darkness. It feels so wrong, too sleazy even for a pimp. The choice he makes may have consequences, or maybe he'll just keep on hustling. Perhaps someone who can't be bought is a saint, or maybe the price just wasn't high enough. Morality don't come cheap.
Masterfully executed, a cinephile's delight, this film is precious buried treasure.
The Act of Killing (2012)
Masterpiece doc examining how mass murder is justified and the implications
The Act of Killing is an amazing film. I guess you could call it a documentary but it's so much more, packed with ideas, so revealing of human nature. Its subject is the Indonesian death squads of the mid- 60s, gangster paramilitary hired to exterminate all the Communists in the country. But how do you know someone's a Communist? I guess if someone looks like a Communist, then you grab them off the street, interrogate them, beat and torture them, then kill them and dump them in the river. Anyone suspected of being a Commie was systematically wiped out: union supporters, intellectuals, any ethnic Chinese, over a million in all.
Tragically, there's nothing new about mass killing and ethnic cleansing, just keeps happening over and over. What's amazing about the movie is that it reveals how HAPPY these murderers are. They're proud and boastful of their deeds, totally open about their actions as if they were great achievements of mankind. They've been rewarded and praised by the government, awarded medals and lionized as heroes of society. They won, the military dictatorship took over and their fascist regime has ruled there ever since. War crimes are defined by the winners and there has been no punishment for these men. In fact, they take it as a sign from God that what they're doing is right.
It's really disturbing stuff, shocking and surreal on a mind-blowing level. Outrageous. This is what life would've been like had the Nazis won. It's insanity. I can't believe what passes for normal in Indonesia. I'm scared of the place. A nerdy Chinese guy cannot be safe there. I've known one guy from Indonesia in my life and all he said about the place was, "Too many gangsters. Really f*cked up way of doing things." Couldn't really grasp what that meant at the time, what like a bunch of Al Capones running around? He wasn't real open about it and now I understand why. It's shameful what's going on there, fascists ruling by fear and force, oppression thick in the air.
The masterstroke of the film is asking the gangsters to re-enact their murders and make their own movie about it all, which they do gladly. Anwar Congo, the main subject, loves American movies, always wanted to be in movies and this is his chance. He brings along his favorite killing tool, a wire tied to a stick which he used to strangle people, something he picked up from gangster films. He's proud of his innovation, how this technique was a real time-saver in terms of blood cleanup. (He can put an "improved efficiency" line on his resume.) Anwar likes to dance and he does the cha-cha at the rooftop site where he killed hundreds of people, a bizarre moment. The film's method brilliantly plays on the vanity of the gangsters, manipulating their egos to reveal the depths of their delusions. We see how the ego is able to build a self-righteous illusion out of anything and even the most heinous actions imaginable can be justified. It's mob mentality where the mob is actually "The Mob".
The beautiful scenes of surreal majesty with pretty dancing girls by waterfalls and lakes are etched in my memory. They represent for me the fantasy world these murderers are living in where fascism is celebrated, a defense mechanism to cope with the horrors of their actions. It's the glossy illusion created to drown out any objections from their conscience. They do have morals; they're just buried under all that fascism.
Comic relief comes in the form of Herman, Anwar's sidekick punching bag. He's a pretty overweight fellow yet Anwar likes to dress him up in drag to represent the Goddess of Revenge, Anwar's vision of a victim's daughter that haunts his dreams. Herman in drag is a sight to behold, like an Asian Divine. We get to witness how he brushes his teeth: like a gross messy warthog. Herman also makes a bid for parliament and is endearingly open about how he's in it purely for the graft. There's a hilarious scene where he poses for publicity photos in a variety of ridiculous outfits and backgrounds, then cuts to him mimicking Barack Obama on TV, making all sorts of funny faces in the mirror. Werner Herzog, apparently a (reluctant) Herman fan, says he can't take his eyes off of him and doesn't understand why.
The film is brilliant and as thought-provoking as you can possibly get. Perhaps it'll get people wondering about what their own egos are up to and what's really going on with the local zeitgeist. It ain't all strawberry milkshakes. America may be half a world away from Indonesia but we're pretty involved in the whole thing. We trade with them; this military regime totally gets the U.S. stamp of approval. I've bought things made in Indonesia (pretty nice stuff, actually) and can only wonder what kind of sweatshop conditions are going on there and who's kicking up to the gangsters. It's just corporations passing on the cost to some place they'd like to take a dump on, we see it all the time, but shouldn't we be more aware? Should we have a conscience about this and boycott all goods made in Indonesia? The film states there was "direct aid from western governments" for the exterminations, and seeing as hunting Commies has been a favorite pastime of the U.S. gov't, I think they're just fine with the whole thing.
The exec-producers Werner Herzog and Errol Morris (documentary gods) have hyped up the ending as something amazing, never before seen. Yes that is true. I'll just say that I think it's real, that he's too vain to purposely have a camera capture him doing that and making that sound. Anwar may look like a happy dancing friendly guy, but he ain't alright. No, he's pretty f*cking far from alright.