132. Purple Rain

Song - Purple Rain (Prince)

Movie: Purple Rain (Albert Magnoli, 1984)

YouTube personalities are not necessarily obnoxious! For proof, see the twins filming themselves listening to classic songs they hear for the first time. They went viral a couple of weeks ago, after Phil Collins' unexpected drum solo in In the Air Tonight blew their mind. Since, they've come under the attention of the artists they respond to. Annie Lennox, for example, was overjoyed after seeing their delighted reaction to Sweet Dreams. They deserve their 15 minutes of fame. Unlike many other 'internet stars' they seem genuine in their enthusiasm and they have a genuine ear for music, allowing them to explain in not entirely amateurish ways why the song works for them the way it does. I would not be surprised if for some impressionable teen they turn out to be a gateway drug to music criticism. I, who most decidedly do not have a good ear for music, have always liked In the Air Tonight, but only after watching their viral video did I realise why the drum solo in that song is so special, beyond just being awesome. Similarly, I only realised after Prince' death that he was a truly towering figure in music. And while I was familiar with songs like Darling Nikki, Purple Rain and When Doves Cry, hearing them in this film, I felt like the two viral brothers did when Phil Collins did his thing.  

I used to see Prince as a bit of an attention-seeking clown who tried and failed to upstage Michael Jackson. And Purple Rain, I thought, was a fun song that was also heavily overblown kitsch. What this film makes clear is that I was not really wrong about the second part. Purple Rain is overblown kitsch, but it is overblown kitsch at its absolute best, created by a ridiculously talented and charismatic rock artist with an utterly unique sensibility, one who finds real emotion in overblown kitsch. You also gotta admire Prince' (and the film's) confidence in the power of Purple Rain. Throughout the film we are teased with the first couple of (instrumental) notes of the song. it's not only set up to be the absolute highlight of the film, it's what the entire film builds up to, the reason for its existence. It must deliver and does. The Purple Rain performance is one of the best music sequences I've seen in film, in part because Magnoli mostly stays on Prince. He just lets him perform, only occasionally cutting away to the utterly enthralled audience. The sequence works as a standalone rock performance (it is the song's official videoclip), as an expression of The Kid's (Prince' character) emotions and as a satisfying ending to the film's story and The Kid's character arc. (Not that there is much of a story or a character arc. Those things are just an excuse to string the spectacularly filmed performances together.)

And yet, as great as Purple Rain is, it may be upstaged here by Darling Nikki. It's the kind of unabashed celebration of casual meaningless sex, and of lust, that is rare in American media/art. American movies and music know that sex sells, but they also know that "Republicans buy sneakers too." And so they try to contrive situations that can justify showing sex, while also contriving that the sex they show fits within acceptable parameters. Darling Nikki, the song, doesn't care about that at all. Darling Nikki, the sequence in this film, cares even less. It's about sex for the sake of sex, simply because it's fun and enjoyable (equally so, for both men and women). And its sole intent is to get you in the mood for it, because that too is fun and enjoyable. That makes it subversive in itself, but what makes it even more so, is that the film doesn't make a big fuss about the scene. It's not given any special treatment, it's not being foreshadowed, or lingered on for much more than necessary. Nor is it (explicitly) used to pander to a progressive political sensibility, or to dunk on conservatives. It's just a scene that happens to be part of the film and helps drive the narrative and the characterisations forward, as normal as a scene in a horror film intended to scare you or a scene in a comedy intended to make you laugh.  

131. Philadelphia

Song - Streets of Philadelphia (Bruce Springsteen)

Movie: Philadelphia (Jonathan Demme, 1993)

I had not seen this film since high school. Back then I was an idiot who was on the side of Charles Wheeler. I thought Andrew was rightly fired as he didn't perform well and felt like the film's argument, that he was being fired for the wrong reason, namely him being a gay man with HIV, amounted to being a strawman. The end result was right after all. As I grew older and got to know more about gay and labor rights, I occasionally remembered with embarrassment how I felt about this film. Luckily I also got to know more about narrative and film grammar, and after seeing Philadelphia now, I can very well see where my initial reaction came from. Tom Hanks' entire character arc here basically consists of getting AIDS and dying.

Andrew is diagnosed with AIDS after about three scenes. At that point, we've hardly seen anything of his professional life, we haven't gotten to know him as a character, and know barely anything of his social or inner life. We won't get to know him much better throughout the rest of the film. It is especially odd to show Andrew at the hospital surrounded by doctors preparing to test him for HIV, and to then cut to one month later when he asks Joe Miller (Denzel Washington) to represent him in court, because he is being fired for having HIV. For some reason we are not shown Andrew's immediate reaction to his diagnosis. Nor do we see the reactions of his partner, friends and family. These should have been the key scenes in the film.

Furthermore, while the film unambiguously argues that Andrew is right and should win his case, weirdly a lot of it is presented from the point of view of Wheeler and his associates. Andrew claims to be an excellent lawyer, but we never see him do excellent law work. Andrew claims his illness didn't stop him from being a well-functioning lawyer, the Wheelers say it did and the film only shows how the illness hinders Andrew's work. Similarly, Charles says that Andrew made a mistake and we do see him make a mistake. And the early scene in which Andrew is made a senior associate, communicates exactly what Wheeler argues at the witness stand, namely that Andrew should be incredibly grateful for this promotion at this particular law firm. It is presented as a major, almost too good to be true, opportunity for him that he shouldn't squander, which is also how Hanks portrays it. Aside from all this, during its early scenes the film is almost hilariously didactic. Whole scenes play out with such unnatural dialogue, contrived to give the audience a lesson about AIDS. Finally, if you are feeling uncharitable you wouldn't be entirely wrong to argue that this is a film in which a white American teaches a black man (Denzel Washington has much more explicitly homophobic dialogue than any of the associates at the law firm being sued) about tolerance and a Latino man about dying gracefully. It is no surprise Antonio Banderas is terrible here. His only function is to be afraid and be comforted by Hanks. 

And yet, despite all this, I actually quite liked the film. This may be partly influenced by discovering Stop Making Sense during quarantine, but I'll probably never watch a Jonathan Demme film anymore without being biased in his favor. Nonetheless, his humanism, even if sometimes clumsily depicted, really does shine through. The film feels delighted and overjoyed by its own existence. You get the sense that everyone working on it felt to be in the middle of a great historical moment. The hope that things are about to get better shines through in every shot. And importantly, the film sees itself as a symbol of that hope, not as a cause of it. This is not a self-important film that believes it will make the world a better place, but one that believes its existence is possible, because the world is becoming a better place. And its opening credits are brilliant; set against Bruce Springsteen's great song, they show various neighborhoods of the city and the people working and living there. In doing so, they universalize Andrew's plight, making clear that this is not a story about some special 'gay' person, but about an ordinary Philadelphian with hopes and dreams like every other Philadelphian. They reminded me of Dog Day Afternoon's credits, set to Elton John's Amoreena. It would make sense if that was the intent. 

It is also worth noting how glorious it is to see Denzel Washington and Tom Hanks in these early roles. Though they are still great actors, they have become such household figures you sometimes forget how surprising  and charismatic they can be, and with how much ease they can play challenging parts. Hanks portrays a man dying of AIDS with more life and energy than most actors playing men at the height of their vitality. And Washington is so natural playing both the humanist and the homophobic aspects of his showoff lawyer, you realise how much of a loss it is that he is more an more being typecast in mediocre action movies, only elevated by his presence. Finally, through Washington's character the film also illuminates its most relevant insight; that racism and homophobia should not be seen separate from each other, but are intertwined.