Barfly

Barfly is a rarity in American cinema: a character study that doesn't worry about telling a story with a beginning, middle, and explosive end. Mickey Rourke is excellent as Henry Chinaski, a writer and habitue of skid row who isn't so much slumming as soaking in it. The real surprise here is Faye Dunaway as his love interest: it's easily her best performance since Chinatown and proves she still has it. Also of note is Frank Stallone as Eddie, the barman who keeps getting into one sided fist fights with Henry. A triumph and one of the best American films of the eighties.

I came across this movie on HBO one night and like any great movie I was immediately hooked by it. I could tell right away that this movie had a strange artistic appeal to it. The movie is strange, funny, and weird. In one scene Henry (Mickey Rourke) collects 500$ from a rich woman he meets. He then takes it immediately to his flea bag appartment along with a bottle of liquor. He wakes up his girlfriend (Faye Dunnaway)and from out of her slumber they begin to drink. Henry manages to stab a man, get a girlfriend, have a wealthy mistress, be a bar room fighter, and o yeah, a poet. Overall this is a gritty movie about the ups and downs of a poet who insists to live in squalor and would'nt have it any other way.

I've seen too many movies where one shocked character asks a character who's done something dangerous, "Are you crazy?", but I don't think I've ever heard a character just flatly say "yes," and as casually as Mickey Rourke says it. It's a small moment in a film that has many good small details, but it stuck out.

Barfly hasn't much of a story, instead following one drunken man as he walks and drinks, staggering through life. He's not partying, like in comedies that involve characters abusing alcohol, but neither does he seem to be drinking himself to death, like Nicolas Cage's character in Leaving Las Vegas. It's an interesting and less expected look at alcohol dependency, and the way drinking a lot seemingly every day ultimately changes one's life, usually for the worse, and occasionally for the better (only really in brief spurts for the latter).

But Rourke's character continues to fight through life. He's not likable, but he's interesting. He's a victim to a compulsion for continual drinking, but he doesn't act like a victim, and sometimes it feels like he wants to do what he does. How much agency he has and how much he's subserviant to liquor is interesting to think about.

Mickey Rourke can act. Easy pick, but I remember The Wrestler impressing me the most. Barfly is another performance of his where his physicality is fascinating and admirably committed. I think it's the second-best performance I've seen of his. I've known some kinda drunks in my time and I don't think the mannerisms and the way he moves around a room are too far off the truth. This is not a fun drunk, but neither is it a Leaving Las Vegas "I want death now" drunk. It's something new, and I liked that.

Faye Dunaway is good, I think, but I'll be honest... I'm not sure how credible she is, because I just haven't seen women of that age in that state. She might look a bit too pretty, too, contrasting against Mickey Rourke who looks consistently rough and schlubby throughout in a way I quite respected.

What we have is a sluggish character study of a film, but that central character is good, and Rourke's performance is excellent. Those qualities make Barfly more than worth devoting 100 minutes.

Faye Dunaway's best work since Network! She really nailed this role. Mickey Rourke was superb, so sleazy you could almost smell him through the screen. His character's way of speaking and walking were such affectations that I would normally consider overacting, but here they were just right.

Despite Bukowski's condemnation of Mickey Rourke's portrayal of him/Chinaski in the film (claiming Rourke was too cocky with the role, and didn't stick to the character of Chinaski as Bukowski intended) states Bukowski in the documentary "Bukowski: Born Into This", I still view it as one of the highlights of Rourke's career.

Whether the depiction of a character is exact in the fashion of perfect mimicry is often irrelevant to me in relation to biopics. As a matter of a fact, I often find it the downfall of some biopics, where the physicality may be captured, but the meat and potatoes of the character's are often left by the wayside. Not so in the instance of "Barfly." Rourke nailed Bukowski/Chinaski's crazy, alcoholic, free spiritedness brilliantly, I felt. There was a humor, a tenderness, a coldness, a twisted romanticism, and a bleakness, all wrapped into a greasy, overweight (Rourke pulled a "De Niro", gaining weight and not bathing months before the film's shooting) package you could almost smell from the theater seats.

Faye Dunaway as the aging, sad, beautiful barfly Wanda, gives a performance that yet again reminds us why she is a cinematic legend in her own time! She plays the subtleties and intricacies of Wanda with such aplomb, offering even this - the most pathetic of her roles - a dignity and a sad beauty that not many actresses can pull off.

The casting of this film deserves a round of applause! I've tended bar and worked in the sorts of joints where these all too real people can be found, and I felt as if I was right there again, pouring shots of bourbon, polishing glasses, and making certain that the brawls boiling in the bar get taken to the streets. Frank Stallone's swaggering, bully-of-a-bar tender, macho-man Eddie is hilarious! Gloria LeRoy as "Grandma Moses" the ancient prostitute infamous for her ability to "swallow paste" is priceless. I could go on and on, but I won't! Bukowski's male character counterpart is a macho, beer swilling, bare knuckle fighting, farting kind of man who some may not appreciate, considering that outside of the seedier bars in North America, these types of fellas are a dying breed. With males being force-fed the over-sensitive, turn the other cheek, annoyingly "metro sexual" kinds of roles models and ideals these days, it must be a strange look back over the evolutionary shoulder for some men to see the realities of people like Bukowski! Don't get me wrong - I'm not applauding all of the Chinaski character's behaviors, but I think that some guys could learn a thing or two about themselves from the worst example of the diametric opposite of what they've been told they should be. Sometimes a fight has to be - sometimes it's just plain pathetic, and both examples can be found in Barfly.

Bukowski has always dared to put to page whatever entered his head, and did so with a twisted lovely flourish.

Barbet Schroeder, the man behind such brilliant and critically acclaimed films such as "More" (1969), his work with director as Jean-Luc Godard, his contribution to French "Nouvelle Vague" or New Wave cinema, and his more mainstream flicks such as "Single White Female", places him in a category above many directors working in North America today.

With Barfly, Schroeder captures the gritty realities of lives given over to the excesses of substances and circumstances in a true-to-life way, as he did with his first film "More", a flick about heroin addiction done at a time when the subject was still considered very taboo. The musical score for Barfly supports this film perfectly, too, with the Hammond organ whirling out Booker T. Jones' "Hip Hug Her" as we P.O.V. our way through the film's first scene, past the bar sign, to the bar's door, and into the world of Henry Chinaski. This is all counter-pointed wonderfully by the use of Mozart and Beethoven under Rourke's voice-overs of Chinaski's writing.

To sum it all up - as much as I dig and respect Bukowski, I have to say that even though he wasn't a fan of the flick (long after its release I may add, and he was on set as an adviser and unaccredited cast member - why didn't he say something at the time?), I look at this movie as a wee gem and as a masterpiece daring enough to capture life's underbelly with an acuteness and accuracy many wouldn't dare to put to screen.

~T.Paul

www.t-paul.com