September 17 2002 - - TORONTO--If you were judging him on his current reputation,
Brian De Palma would barely get a passing grade, especially for most of his
1990s movies, which include such underwhelming fare as "The Bonfire of the
Vanities," "Mission: Impossible," "Snake Eyes" and "Mission to Mars."
Something of a critic's darling early in his career, when he made funky comedies
and clever horror films, De Palma has become the personification of a Hollywood
hack. As film historian David Thomson put it: "He's the epitome of mindless
style and excitement--he has contempt for his characters and audiences alike."
But if you were grading the veteran film director on his ardor for film
festivals, he gets an honor roll A. At a cinema bazaar like the Toronto
International Film Festival, which concluded its 10-day run Saturday with
the North American debut of De Palma's new film, "Femme Fatale," even the
most lunatic movie buff would be lucky to see 20 movies in a week, especially
if you leave time for eating, sleeping and celebrating the pleasures of the
new Chen Kaige or Pedro Almodovar film. But by the time I caught up with
De Palma, he was already on pace to reach 30 films before festival's end.
Yes, De Palma has a film to promote, an erotic thriller starring Rebecca
Romijn-Stamos and Antonio Banderas that has a vitality and verve that hasn't
been seen in his films since the days of "Dressed to Kill" and "Body Double."
But the 62-year-old director would be in Toronto anyway--he's the ultimate
festival junkie. His new film even has a prolonged heist sequence set at
Cannes. De Palma is a regular here and at Cannes, as well as at festivals
in Rotterdam, Holland; Montreal; Venice, Italy; and Berlin.
While other directors here were ferried around in limos, accompanied by a
phalanx of publicists, De Palma was largely anonymous, attending screenings
by himself. When critic Roger Ebert couldn't get into a screening here one
night, he threw what one local paper called "a hissy fit," nearly causing
an international incident. When De Palma couldn't get into a screening of
"Russian Ark," a Russian-German film shot in one 96-minute take, he simply
found something else to see.
When I beseeched him to see "City of God," a Miramax film from Brazil that
was my favorite festival entry, he brushed it off, saying he doesn't bother
with films that he can eventually see at the theater around the corner from
where he lives in Greenwich Village. Instead, he sought out obscure work
from Iran, Israel and Korea. "I can't get enough of Korean movies," he said,
chastely sipping bottled water at the bar of the posh King Edward Hotel here.
"There's lots of things happening in these Korean films. I want more--South
Korea, here I come."
Once he did play his director's card. Having already missed Mike Figgis'
film "Hotel" when it played here last September, De Palma went to a midnight
showing in Rotterdam earlier this year. Stuck near the end of a long line,
he began to worry that he'd get shut out again. Flagging down a young festival
staffer, he said, "Could you give me a break? I'm Brian De Palma." The staffer
gave him a skeptical glance and said, "You're not Brian De Palma."
"They never believe it's me. What would Brian De Palma be doing standing
in line for a midnight showing of a Mike Figgis movie?" He frowned. "Why
is it that I've never seen another director at these festivals? All I see
is people like you."
By "you," De Palma, of course, means his critical detractors. It's one of
the great ironies of his career. His old friend Martin Scorsese may have
seen more movies, but no American director has a better intellectual grasp
of film history than De Palma. Underneath those khaki bush jackets he's worn
for years beats the heart of a true cinephile. Despite having made a host
of enduring films in his five-decade career, from "Carrie" to "Dressed to
Kill" to "The Untouchables," De Palma has gotten the kind of critical reception
that a wildcat oil driller gets at a Sierra Club convention.
Even movies that are now considered classics, like "Scarface," which is easily
the most influential movie among hip-hop fans everywhere, were trashed when
they first appeared. "The reaction to 'Scarface' was horrid--everyone said
it was bloody and despicable," De Palma recalled. " 'Carrie' was dismissed
as a ridiculous B-movie by everyone, except for Pauline Kael, and even she
didn't like 'Scarface.' "
De Palma bristled when it became apparent that I shared his detractors' disdain
for his recent work. "I think you missed a lot in 'Mission to Mars,' " he
said brusquely. "It's a beautiful-looking film. All the critics ever talked
about was the banality of the story."
But wasn't it incredibly banal? "Give me a break," De Palma snapped. "I just
watched the DVD of 'Snake Eyes' from beginning to end and really liked it--it
captured the inner reality of the casino world. And whatever you say about
'Mission: Impossible,' it has three or four sequences that will be around
for a long time. When it comes to doing a big action movie, I'm as good as
anybody."
OK, so artists are touchy and rarely the best judges of their own work. In
fact, distributors often bring films here to gauge critical reaction to them.
Most of the time distributors don't know what critics think about a movie
until their reviews run. But at a festival, you can bump into someone who
just had dinner with Newsweek's David Ansen or Entertainment Weekly's Lisa
Schwartzbaum and hear them raving or dissing a new film. A movie that gets
good buzz here could be positioned as an Oscar contender, whereas a movie
that doesn't play well could get bumped to a later release date--or not get
one at all. Festivals are one place where critics still matter.
De Palma's "Femme Fatale" also got some positive reactions, providing hope
that critics might view it as a comeback for the director. In fact, the film
grew out of De Palma's realization that he needed fresh inspiration. He moved
to Paris 2 1/2 years ago, inspired in part by how one of his favorite writers,
Somerset Maugham, in his later years began cruising around the world in search
of new story ideas.
"You have to get out into the world," he said. "You can't hide in your big
mansion or ride in a limo to fancy restaurants. You have to want to experience
new things."
De Palma had always wanted to make a movie about a film noir-style woman,
like Rita Hayworth in "Gilda" or Jane Greer in "Out of the Past," who's involved
in a heist gone bad. When De Palma's femme fatale meets a woman who's practically
her look-alike--and suicidal over the loss of her husband and child--she
realizes she could steal more than diamonds. She could steal somebody else's
life. De Palma initially wrote two versions of the story, one set in America,
the other set largely in Paris. "When I got financing for the French version,
I thought, 'Great, now I can stay in Paris even longer.' "
Like most of De Palma's films, "Femme Fatale" is full of Hitchcockian hommages,
especially to "Vertigo," De Palma's favorite Hitchcock film. De Palma is
keenly aware that the old master made his best films as a younger man. "You
have to think very carefully about what movies you make at my age," De Palma
admits. "But I have nothing left to prove. I'm not going to redeem myself
in anyone's eyes by what I do now. I can almost write the reviews for 'Femme
Fatale' myself. I can hear the critics saying, 'Is De Palma lost in all his
old obsessions again?' But if you didn't like 'Mission: Impossible' or 'Snake
Eyes,' then all I can say is, c'est la vie."
De Palma's time in Paris has paid off: He may not have learned to love his
critics, but at least he can write them off in French.
"The Big Picture" runs every Tuesday in Calendar. If you have questions,
ideas or criticism, e-mail them to patrick.goldstein@latimes .com.
Defensive? Him?
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