King of New York (Abel Ferrara Commentary Highlights)
Abel Ferrara, 1990
Despite all the films watched, I've barely made a dent in checking out any of the audio commentaries available. Mostly given up on them on account of them being nowhere near as entertaining as the ones John Carpenter has done with his cast in the past.
Took a gamble with Abel Ferrara as I was itching to revisit his classic gangster thriller King of New York. Other than him recollecting how some of the scenes were shot and lit (for all you budding film makers lurking out there, Congo Blue was what used for those night shots), along with his suprisingly pervy comments regarding some of the female cast members, here are some of the new things I learned about the film:
The $5,000 Ferrara charged for the audio commentary.
Ferrara's commenting on the film's fashion aesthethic consisting of everyone being dressed in black and likened to "They dropped the neutron bomb and all the colour of New York (was) gone", and "How can you be cool if you don't have shades on?"
Ferrara in hysterics everytime Steve Buscemi showed up on screen.
The memorable hotel dance scene being summed up by Ferrara as "This is as phoney as you can get".
James Russo turned down the role of Jimmy Jump. It's impossible even trying to imagine any other actor playing what's possibly Larry Fishburne's most iconic role.
Did not realise that Jennifer, Frank White's lawyer girlfriend, was the female lead in Paul Lynch's sophomore slasher, the criminally underrated Humongous (1982). It also didn't click for me until now that the newly wed cop was played by the same actor who was Jeffrey Franken in Frankehooker (1990).
The night of the film's premiere at the New York Film Festival, it was given a very positive reception. The very next morning with Larry Fishburne in attendance, it was booed. Talk about a totally different crowd!
Michael Mann telling Ferrara to end the film with Frank ascending the subway steps to suggest a possible sequel
Ferrara playing his acoustic guitar and singing a multitute of "N" bombs during the end credits while ruining my enjoyment of Schoolly D's Saturday Night:
One of life's little mysteries (to me at least), is how some film makers are pushed to the forefront by various critics and media alike, while the rest of their peers are like crabs in the barrel. Talent, would undoubtedly be the answer one might say, but in the case of New York directors, the answer appears to be a little more complicated. I would go as far to say that some of them are placed on a considerably higher pedestal when compared to their contemporaries outside of the state. Take Abel Ferrara, a N.Y. film maker who started out via the exploitation film route: from notorious video nasty, Driller Killer(1979); to rape-revenge vigilante thriller Ms .45(1981); and then to Fear City (1984), one of the zaniest entries in the cop sleaze trend of that era. Ferrara gets a free pass by critics with these scuzzier entries from the earliest period in his work. His transition from that phase to the next is perhaps where his most interesting body of work lies. One particular film I really want to discuss is his 1995 philosophical vampire tale, The Addiction.
On one level, I find The Addiction borderline inaccessible, largely because a film that heavily references lauded philosophers like Jean-Paul Sartre, Søren Kierkegaard and Friedrich Nietzsche is way beyond my personal comprehension; on another, I'm drawn to the film, because I find it an immensely stylish take on vampirism in cinema. The film also exemplifies an era in horror movies which I largely considered was either dead, or at the very least, had gone underground. It's this sort of dichotomy that further extends to Ferrara's body of work. He's an artist that flirts between the blurred lines of genre movie and highbrow film. If anything, I would cheekily label him the Michael Crawford of New York filmakers - started out as popular slapstick entertainment like Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em, and then went on to critical acclaim with a poncey Andrew Lloyd Webber musical. The Addiction is hardly a unique film, since film makers like Jean Rollin and Jesus Franco had been doing existential horror for a couple of decades before The Addiction. Themes like love, death and immortality aren't exactly anything new in horror movies either, but I do find it interesting that this and both Shooter McCrae's Shatter Dead and Michele Soavi's Dellamorte Dellamore (AKA, Cemetery Man), all contain similar themes and were released between the years '94 and '95. The subject of philosophy isn't the only theme running in this film either. Drug addiction is obviously apparent, with some scenes of vampirism resembling a shooting-up session - syringes et all. Strangely enjoyed those scenes the most, probably because it was less of a headache to process than the psycho-babble.
Beautifully shot in high contrasting black and white, I find it reflects the juxtaposition of different cultures and classes in New York City's social melting pot. An observation not uncommon in Ferrara's earlier films, either. It's especially evident when he has our film's protagonist, Kathleen Conklin, a philosophy student, played by Lili Taylor, who mixes it up between her scholary bourgeois social circle and with common street corner urchins like Fredro Starr, or homeless junkies. The two worlds aesthetic is developed even further when Kathleen gets bitten by a vampire and she transitions into the undead - rockin' shades like Eazy E. Speaking of which, I usually don't like contemporary music in serious horror films, but given the context and location of this film, it genuinely works here.
Supporting cast is provided by a recognisable bunch of actors from The Sopranos,
along with a scene stealing performance by Christopher Walken, as a
sagely vampire. As mentioned earlier, Fredro Starr is also in this. The
scene where he holds hands in the street with Kathleen is
particularly hilarious to me; simply because he looks like a little kid
in his oversized clothes and the scene resembles a child and its mother walking to school, rather than him being a blac vagina finda. With the
very short hair, Annabella Sciorra looks way less attractive as the
vampire Casanova compared to anything before and after this film. I suppose it works within the context of the film, considering she's no longer supposed to be human, but it's always bothered me when a beautiful woman intentionally opts for the emaciated look.
Perhaps it was because of pre-millennium jitters, but The Addiction came out at an interesting time in creative media; distortion and decay were prevailing themes. From music, film, art and graphic design, Ferrara's The Addiction follows this trend remarkably well, as mid-nineties New York City looks positively dickensian compared to shots of it today. This is largely why I selected this movie out for a revisit above any of his other works. It was also a way to cleanse my palate after Ferrara's horrificly bad Zeros And Ones topped my list of Worst Films I Watched in 2021.
The Addiction (Peina scene)
(Abel Ferrara, 1995)
Perhaps I'm commiting a cardinal sin for liking this film for all the wrong reasons. Reading and watching more credular reviews of The Addiction has me feeling like Kaspar Hauser for not accepting it the correct way. Still, it doesn't dissuade my appreciation of it, if anything I think it's one of Ferrara's better films (but no my favourite, though), from the ones I have seen at least. It's the comprimise that caters to both a trash movie aficionado like myself and the snooty Criterion crowd. Shame he catered to the latter category later on.
