Welcome My Son, To the Machine: “Boogie Nights” (1997) as Critique of the Modern Hollywood System

February 21, 2015
By: Curtis M. Parvin (check me out on IMDB!)
Image courtesy Wikipedia

Paul Thomas Anderson is a 1990’s savior of cinema! Let the Christians await the arrival of Jesus Christ; film fans have actually seen the second coming of Orson Welles.

You may be asking: “Does P.T. Anderson deserve this veneration?” I mean, he is rumored to have grown up watching pornographic videos at a young age and dropping out of film school in his first week. According to the rumor mill, Anderson passed off some sample script pages written by Pulitzer Prize-winner David Mamet and received an unsatisfactory grade. After that, he closed the books and “hit the bricks” — as Mamet would say.
No professor was going to tell him what he was worth by putting a letter or number on his project. P.T.A. was going to make films his way because of a gut feeling; isn’t that all an artist has, their own instinct about their creative endeavors? Lucky for us, Anderson not only has a rebel heart, but the soul of a profound storyteller.
Now, after that brief introduction — or digression if you feel that way — about the filmmaker, let me share with you the reason I felt compelled to write this review.
Other than this being the final installment in my “Burt Reynolds Trilogy”:
I returned to Boogie Nights because I saw Anderson’s new picture, Inherent Vice (2014), and was rendered speechless. Vice is a fascinating exercise in experimental filmmaking! What stunned me even more though, were murmurs of walkouts. Many casual moviegoers were saying it was “boring” and “had no plot” etc. These audience reactions caused me to examine, more closely, what the casual moviegoer wants at the multiplex nowadays.

The awful truth is that most people today are lining up around the block to see Michael Bay’s recycling center filmmaking. These movie theater Tweeters want loud noises, mangled robots or women bending over muscle cars. Or, they yearn to see on-screen adaptations of trashy books shooting up the bestseller list — I will never understand the 50 Shades of Grey craze. Fast action, quick cuts, and sex seems to be the formula for success in mainstream cinema.

You see, dear reader, it is possible to write/direct a film about a sexual topic, but there has to be a larger artistic statement being made. Paul Thomas Anderson’s 1997 film,  Boogie Nights is a remarkable achievement! A film school drop-out was able to satirize Hollywood from behind enemy lines. Mr. Anderson took money from the suits and showed them Hollywood is the real pornography, a heartless machine designed to exploit and cash-in on desire.
Mark Wahlberg plays a teenager named Eddie Adams who is seduced into the 1970’s X-rated movie business by director Jack Horner (Burt Reynolds). Adams is not getting much love from his family at home — mother is an abusive alcoholic — so he seeks acceptance from anyone who believes in him. With the support of this surrogate father and the encouragement of Amber Waves (Juilanne Moore), Eddie takes the name “Dirk Diggler” and begins down the road to fame. His star begins to rise, and then…
….1980s home video technology threatens to destroy everything. Jack’s movies get cheaper and edgier. Emotional storytelling is sacrificed for rougher and more exploitative subject matter. The content becomes more misogynistic. The revenue from video sales yields mounds and mounds of blow. Cocaine brings out the beast in everyone using the stuff…”Oh, hi, Hollywood, I didn’t see you there.”
Dirk Diggler becomes the personification of what excess and selling-out has done to the industry. When he falls, he fall hard. He hits rock bottom, shattering the ground that was holding everyone up. Some characters manage to break away from the chaos, like Buck Swope (Don Cheadle), who sets up his own stereo store; for the most part, however, everyone will come face to face with their demons before the credits roll. 

Amber’s choices prevent her from seeing her son. Her drug use and seedy profession have caused her ex-husband to take legal action. Julianne Moore’s performance as the mother looking for a lost child is heartbreaking. I really hope she wins the Oscar this year for Still Alice. She deserves it.
Speaking of the Academy Awards, Boogie Nights was Burt Reynolds’ only Oscar-nominated performance. I’ve always felt he was an underrated actor who could be funny as well as dramatic. He plays Jack Horner as a conflicted man. In order to continue making movies, you have to continue to make that bread. At one point in his life, he probably wanted to be a great artist, but you get more butts in the seats with money shots than crane shots.
For inexplicable reasons, Reynolds didn’t win the statue back in the late ’90s. If you want to know my own conspiracy theory, I’ll let you in on a little secret…
….the Oscars do not like movies that are subversive. Actually, I’m sure The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences didn’t appreciate Paul Thomas Anderson calling Hollywood a money machine that will “let you watch” for a price.
Pornography isn’t always as it appears.

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