PHILADELPHIA

A Good Start

“This is the essence of discrimination: Formulating opinions about others not based on their individual merits, but rather on their membership in a group with assumed characteristics.” (School Board of Nassau County v. Arline, 480 U.S. 273 (1987) (Brennan, J.), on remand, 692 F. Supp. 1286 (M.D. Fla. 1988)).

This rule, reaffirmed by the landmark Supreme Court decision which, over the dissent of Chief Justice Rehnquist and Justice Scalia, first recognized the infection with a contagious disease (tuberculosis) as an actionable handicap under federal law, forms the initial bond between star litigator Andrew Beckett (Tom Hanks) and ambulance chaser Joe Miller (Denzel Washington), the unlikely team at the center of this movie. Because through these words, black attorney Miller begins to realize that his colleague Beckett faces a handicap which, in essence, is not so different from that confronted by many of his fellow African Americans. And because this is an incredibly effectively scripted Hollywood movie, we, the audience, easily get the point as well; even if we’re white, and even if we’re not gay and/or suffering from AIDS like Beckett.

Of course, the insidiousness of the AIDS virus places those afflicted with it in a class of their own, and while the movie spares its viewers the pictures of some of the virus’s most graphic effects, it does go to considerable length to show the physical decline associated with it – not only in the person of Beckett himself, for whose role Hanks literally almost starved himself. Some of the patients surrounding him in the movie’s earlier emergency room scenes really were AIDS patients, whom Hanks had approached when preparing for the movie, and who had subsequently agreed to participate; and as Hanks emphasized during an appearance in Bravo TV’s Inside the Actors’ Studio, not all of them are still alive. – Denzel Washington’s appropriately named Joe Miller, middle class everyman in everything but the color of his skin (one of the movie’s obvious bows to political correctness), displays an attitude uncomfortably familiar to many of us; shunning gays in general and the HIV-infected Beckett in particular, out of a mixture of ignorance about AIDS, prejudice against those suffering from it, and prejudice against gays. Both Hanks and Washington give strikingly emotional, profound performances that rank among the best in their respective careers – Hanks deservedly won both the Oscar and the Golden Globe for his portrayal of Beckett, but Washington unfairly wasn’t even nominated for either. Yet, neither of them would have been able to shine as much as they do without their exceptional supporting cast; to name just two, Jason Robards, commanding as ever as Beckett’s homophobic former boss (and role model!), and Antonio Banderas as his devoted lover.

By the time of Philadelphia‘s release, some of the early myths about AIDS had begun to disappear, and the yearly growing numbers of newly infected patients had brought it out of its erstwhile obscurity as “the gay plague.” But indepth knowledge was still far from widespread, and therefore the movie – which was inspired in part by the real-life case of New York attorney Geoffrey Bowers – not only brought awareness to the disease in general, but also made a couple of important points, from educating the public about the disease’s method of transmission to emphasizing that it is by no means limited to gays and can even be contracted in something as life-affirming as a blood transfusion. (Indeed, several European countries were rocked by transfusion-related AIDS scandals right around the time of the movie’s release). One of Philadelphia‘s most quietly powerful scenes is the testimony of a female witness who was infected by just such a transfusion, and who emphasizes that having AIDS is not a matter of sin or morality: “I don’t consider myself any different from anyone else with this disease. I’m not guilty, I’m not innocent, I’m just trying to survive,” she responds when asked to confirm that in her case “there was no behavior on [her] part” involved and contracting AIDS was something she was “unable to avoid.” – Moreover, four years before Ellen DeGeneres rocked the showboat with a kiss during an episode of her sitcom, and Kevin Kline and Magnum macho Tom Selleck locked lips in In and Out (the screenplay of which was inspired by Hanks’s Oscar acceptance speech for Philadelphia), it was by no means a given that a movie would get away with letting Hanks and Banderas exchange acts of tenderness from caresses and kisses on the hand to a slow dance at a gay party.

Given Philadelphia‘s fundamental message and the memorable performances of its protagonists, it is a pity that the movie doesn’t entirely avoid Hollywood pitfalls, such as its soggy ending with grease literally dripping off the screen and the undeniable taste of a sugar-coated afterthought, transmitting the message that even dying of AIDS is really not so terrible, at least for the surviving family who can still unite around the television set and wallow in their memories of their lost loved one. And while I do buy Joe Miller’s transformation from a (somewhat stereotypical) homophobic male to a reluctant supporter of gay rights, I don’t really see why Beckett suddenly assumes a cliché gay look the second he has been fired; not to mention that I suspect not everybody in his situation would have enjoyed such overwhelming support from his family.

But ultimately, it is the movie’s overarching message that counts. “Ain’t no angel gonna greet me; it’s just you and I my friend … and my clothes don’t fit me no more: I walked a thousand miles just to slip this skin,” sings Bruce Springsteen, the movie’s other Oscar winner, in “Philadelphia”‘s title song. And Justice Brennan wrote in the Supreme Court’s Arline decision that in amending federal law, Congress was motivated by “discrimination stemming not only from simple prejudice, but also from archaic attitudes and laws.” This movie goes a long way in dispelling such attitudes. It alone isn’t enough – but it is, as Andrew Beckett jokes about the 1000 lawyers chained together at the bottom of the ocean, at least a good start.

 

 

Production Credits /
Cast and Crew

Production Credits
  • Studio: Columbia TriStar (1993)
  • Director: Jonathan Demme
  • Executive Producers: Ron Bozman / Gary Goetzman / Kenneth Utt
  • Producers: Jonathan Demme & Edward Saxon
  • Screenplay: Ron Nyswaner
  • Music: Howard Shore
  • Cinematography / Director of Photography: Tak Fujimoto
Cast
  • Tom Hanks: Andrew Beckett
  • Denzel Washington: Joe Miller
  • Jason Robards: Charles Wheeler
  • Antonio Banderas: Miguel Alvarez
  • Lisa Summerour: Lisa Miller
  • Karen Finley: Dr. Gillman
  • Joanne Woodward: Sarah Beckett
  • Anna Deavere Smith: Anthea Burton
  • Mary Steenburgen: Belinda Conine
  • Robert Ridgely: Walter Kenton
  • Charles Napier: Judge Garnett

 

Major Awards and Honors

Academy Awards (1994)
  • Best Actor in a Leading Role: Tom Hanks
  • Best Music, Song: Bruce Springsteen, for the song “Streets of Philadelphia”.
American Film Institute (AFI)
  • Top 50 Heroes – No. 49 (Andrew Beckett)
  • Top 100 Movie Songs – No. 68 (“Streets of Philadelphia”)
Golden Globes (1994)
  • Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama: Tom Hanks
  • Best Original Song – Motion Picture: Bruce Springsteen, for the song “Streets of Philadelphia”
MTV Movie Awards (USA) (1994)
  • Best Male Performance: Tom Hanks
ASCAP Awards (USA) (1995)
  • Top Box Office Films: Howard Shore
  • Most Performed Songs from Motion Pictures: Bruce Springsteen, for the song “Streets of Philadelphia”
Grammy Awards (USA) (1995)
  • Best Song Written Specifically for a Motion Picture or for Television: Bruce Springsteen, for the song “Streets of Philadelphia”
GLAAD Media Awards (USA) (1994)
  • Outstanding Film – Wide Release: Jonathan Demme, Edward Saxon
Goldene Leinwand (Golden Screen) (Germany) (1994)
  • Winner of the Golden Screen
Berlin International Film Festival (1994)
  • Silver Berlin Bear – Best Actor: Tom Hanks

 

Links

 

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

Dies Irae, Dies Doloris …

“Libera me, Domine, de vitae aeterna” – “Free me, Lord, from eternal life”: If a movie begins with a choir and a boy soprano singing these words, in a requiem’s style and overlaying the camera’s sweeping move over nightly San Francisco bay, zooming in on a Victorian building’s top-floor window after having followed the life on the street below like a hunter follows its prey – if a movie begins like this, you know you’re not looking at your average flick, whatever its subject. (And if the first thing you catch is the Latin phrase’s grammatical mistake, this is probably not your kind of movie to begin with).

Much-discussed even before its release, due not least to Anne Rice’s temporary withdrawal of support and her no less sensational subsequent 180-degree turn, Neil Jordan’s adaptation of the Vampire Chronicles‘ first part, based on Rice’s own screenplay, is a sumptuous production awash in luminous colors, magnificent period décor and costumes, rich fabrics, heavy crystal, elegant silverware and gallons of deeply scarlet blood, supremely photographed by Phillippe Rousselot, with a constant undercurrent of sensuality and seduction; an audiovisual orgy substantiated by one of recent film history’s most ingenious scores (by Elliot Goldenthal). Although the book only gained notoriety after the publication of its sequel The Vampire Lestat – followed in short order by the Chronicles‘ third installment, The Queen of the Damned –, by the time this movie was produced, Rice had acquired a large and loyal fan base, who would have been ready to tear it to shreds had it failed to meet their expectations. That this was not unanimously the case is in and of itself testimony to Neil Jordan’s considerable achievement (only underscored by the botched 2002 realization of Queen of the Damned). Sure, some decry the plot changes vis-à-vis the novel and the fact that some of the protagonists (particularly Louis and Armand) look different from Rice’s description. But others have embraced the movie wholeheartedly; praising it for remaining faithful to the fundamentalities of Rice’s story and for its production values as such. I find myself firmly in the latter corner; indeed, in some respects I consider this one of the rare movies that are superior to their literary originals – primarily because the story’s two main characters, Louis and Lestat, gain considerably in stature and complexity as compared to Rice’s book.

While both film and novel are narrated by Louis (Brad Pitt), giving an interview to a reporter (Christian Slater) in the hope of achieving some minimal atonement for 200 years of sin and guilt, and while Lestat (Tom Cruise) appears on screen barely half the movie’s total running time, Lestat is much more of a central character than in Rice’s novel; and vastly more interesting. For Anne Rice’s Lestat only comes into his own in the Chronicles‘ second part, which is named for him and where we truly learn to appreciate him as the vampire world’s aristocratic, arrogant, wicked, intelligent and unscrupulous “brat prince,” who although completely lacking regret for any of his actions nevertheless shows occasional glimpses of caring, even if he would never admit thereto. This, however, is exactly the movie’s Lestat; not the comparatively uninformed and, all things considered, even somewhat brutish creature of Rice’s first novel. It is no small feat on Tom Cruise’s part to have accomplished this; and in my mind his portrayal has completely eclipsed the character’s original conception, which was reportedly based on Rutger Hauer’s Captain Navarre in Ladyhawke.

Similarly, while every bit as guilt-ridden as the character created by Anne Rice , Brad Pitt’s Louis regains more inner strength – and more quickly so – than the narrator of Rice’s book, rendering him more of an even foil for Lestat, and equally lending greater credibility to his initial selection as Lestat’s companion, as well as to his actions to ensure his and Claudia’s escape to Europe, and his later decision not to stay with Armand. (Indeed, Louis’s and Armand’s separation after the burning of the Theatre of the Vampires makes perfect sense in the movie’s context; it would have undercut both characters’, but especially Louis’s credibility had they gone on to share years of companionship, as they do in the book.)

Kirsten Dunst’s Claudia was not only this movie’s biggest discovery – not surprisingly, in an interview given a few years later and included on the movie’s DVD, Dunst called this “the most prominent role” of her career so far –: She, too, embodies the novel’s child vampire to absolute perfection; capturing her eternally childlike features as well as her Lolitaesque seductiveness and the ruthless killer hidden under her doll-like appearance. Doubtlessly furthest from the novel’s character is Antonio Banderas’s powerful and charismatic Armand: But while I do somewhat miss Rice’s auburn-haired “Botticelli angel,” I always had a problem imagining him as the leader of the Paris coven, in control even of the quicksilverish Santiago (marvelously portrayed by Stephen Rea in one of his most overtly theatrical performances). Here, too, the movie – if anything – gives the story greater credibility; although it’s admittedly hard to reconcile with parts of the Chronicles‘ later installments, particularly Armand’s own biography.

In interviews, Neil Jordan and Brad Pitt particularly have mentioned the emotional strain that this movie put on all its participants; due its almost exclusively nightly shooting schedule, and even more so because of its incessant exploration of guilt, damnation and, literally, hell on earth. Anne Rice’s vampires truly are the ultimate outsiders; no longer part of human society, they feed on it, can neither be harmed by sickness nor by methods the world has taken for granted ever since Bram Stoker’s Dracula (which are in fact merely “the vulgar fictions of a demented Irishman,” as Louis explains, simultaneously amused and contemptuous) and are thus, if not killed by fire and/or beheading, condemned to walk the earth forever, without any hope of redemption. It is primarily this element which has given Rice’s novels their lasting appeal, and which is perfectly rendered in Jordan’s adaptation. I’m still not sure I’d ever want to meet them in person, though …

 

Production Credits /
Cast and Crew

Production Credits
  • Studio: Geffen Pictures (1994)
  • Director: Neil Jordan
  • Producers: David Geffen & Stephen Woolley
  • Screenplay: Anne Rice
  • Based on a novel by: Anne Rice
  • Music: Elliot Goldenthal
  • Cinematography / Director of Photography: Philippe Rousselot
  • Production Design: Dante Ferretti
Cast

Brad Pitt: Louis
Tom Cruise: Lestat
Christian Slater: Malloy
Kirsten Dunst: Claudia
Antonio Banderas: Armand
Stephen Rea: Santiago
Thandie Newton: Yvette
Indra Ové: New Orleans Whore
Helen McCrory: 2nd Whore
Roger Lloyd Pack: Piano Teacher
George Kelly: Dollmaker
Sara Stockbridge: Estelle
Domiziana Giordano: Madeleine
Louis Lewis-Smith: Mortal Boy

Major Awards and Honors

ASCAP Awards (1995)
  • Top Box Office Films: Elliot Goldenthal
BAFTA Awards (1995)
  • Best Cinematography: Philippe Rousselot
  • Best Production Design: Dante Ferretti

 

Links