Talk Radio

Probably one of his lesser known films, it suffers from the same lack of exposure as Salvador in that its actually one of his best.

Written by and starring Eric Bogosian, Talk Radio tells the story of an opinionated radio phone-in host who upsets the wrong kind of listener. The film is important, and has much to say on the issues of free speech and just how free it should be, and you can easily tell that it started life as a stage play. Know what you're getting into before you sit down to watch it and you'll be fine.

There isn't much to the acting really as Bogosian pretty much steals the film, he wrote and is given licence to rant, I couldn't take my eyes off him and that was part of the fascination many of the listeners had; the people who hated him wouldn't turn off in-case they missed something.

Not for everyone, but a very good drama and overall a very good film.

In one of the more under-seen films of the late 1980's, at a time when Oliver Stone was riding high with Platoon and Wall Street (and before his opus Born on the Fourth of July), he co-scripted and directed this look at the world of radio, specifically one radio host in the middle of Texas. This man is Barry Champlain, in a once-in-a-career turn from Eric Bogosian, who wrote the original play and also co-wrote the script. Barry is like a mix of Howard Stern and one of those pundits you hear on the radio stations many of us might turn off. He's got ideas on his mind, opinions, and he's not only un-afraid to speak them, but also to stand up against the phone callers. The callers, indeed, are the driving force in the film, as Barry has to combat against the mindless, the obscene, the racist, and the purely absent-minded. As this goes on, he also has to contend with his boss (Alec Baldwin) and a hit or miss deal to go nationwide, outside the confines of the Southern way station he's in.

While after seeing the film I felt curious as to see how it would've been done on stage (I'd imagine it was a one-man show, as Bogosian has had several on the side), the direction of the film is phenomenal. Stone has been known, almost typecast, as a director who loves quick cuts, the limitless effects of montage, and effects with the styles of camera-work and other little tricks, that give his films in the 90's a distinctive, almost auteur look. But in the 80's he had this energy and feverish quality to the look of the film, and wasn't as frenzied as the other films. In order to add the proper intensity that is within the studio and head-space of Barry Champlain, he and DP Robert Richardson make the space seem claustrophobic at times, gritty, un-sure, and definitely on edge. The scenes in the middle of the film, when Barry isn't in the studio, are fairly standard, but the style along with the substance in the radio scenes is among the best I've seen from the Stone/Richardson combination.

And one cannot miscalculate the performance of Bogosian, who can be obnoxious, offensive, angered, passive, and everything that we love and hate in radio show hosts. There is also a funny, near distracting supporting role for Michael Wincott as Kent/Michael/Joe, who prank calls him one night, and the next gets invited to the studio. These scenes are a little uncomfortable for a viewer, but it does get very much into the subculture head-space of the 80's that Barry is as intrigued as he is critical of. The stoner may not 'get it', but as he says to him "it's your show". Indeed, it's hard to cover everything that goes on within the talk, and there is a lot of it. But it's never boring, and like Champlain himself, it's not easy to ignore. And when Bogosian goes into his climactic tirade on air, with the background panning around in a continuous 360 spin, it becomes intoxicating, and a reason why freedom of speech is so powerful.

Stone has been synonymous as a filmmaker of hot-button issues, who takes on subjects that were or still are controversial, and gives them a life-force that isn't always great, but is all his own. Here his skills and ambitions don't get in the way of Bogosian's- it's boosted, if anything, making an extremely skilled vision of what is essentially a near one-man show, which in and of itself is already well-written.

Eric Bogosian is electrifying as Barry Champlain, loud mouth and controversial host of a talk radio show. The opening 20 minutes or so is mesmerising, with its claustrophobic atmosphere and deep sense of impending menace. With the scenes involving Champlain's ex-wife, the temperature drops noticeably. The writers here take the easy option of making her too virtuous and Barry as gratuitously nasty and selfish, thus reducing any sympathy towards him. Back in the studio, the threatening atmosphere returns, but this time we have heard it before. Too many of the same callers saying much the same thing begins to pall. In particular the continual comments of an anti-Semitic nature simply wear thin. The writers once again make it easy for themselves in making all the bad callers white redneck neo-Nazis while the only obviously black caller was shown as almost Pollyannaishly happy. With a bit more variety and more honest writing (ie a wider cross-section of callers, not just endless white bigots) this could have been outstanding. As it is it is worth watching for Bogosian's wonderful performance.

A top notch drama enhanced by Stone's camera work. The story involves the meteoric rise and fall of a popular shock-jock. The main character's ego and opinions drip out of his pores like sweat on a hot afternoon. Stone's camera sweeps and glides around the radio studio like a hungry panther. His use of reflections turns up the heat until the whole world starts to warp and melt around the main character as his world starts to crumble. Bogosian's dialogue is sharp but sometimes preachy. The voices over the telephone seem brainwashed and generic but I think that was done with purpose to enhance the DJ's view of his audience as being mindless followers. The technical work on this film is what does it for me. It adds up to a fine film.

Talk Radio sees a man somewhat accidentally stumble through life, indeed the American Dream, from whatever bog-standard and everyday job he has in a store; to presenter of a local radio show before going right the way through to the same job only later syndicated nationwide. It's a role he adopts out of his own aggression and natural mannerisms, a frothing mad approach to freedom of speech as he attacks just about everyone and everything, even those that often call up to agree with him or compliment him. His role as a man that rants on all things good, evil, right, wrong, political, religious, moral and immoral is something that people seem to take to in one form; that of 'it's entertaining and worth tuning in for', but additionally on a plane of rejection and antagonism – two things born out of the very things seemingly encouraged in professional working life in the Western World. This, towards a man as he gets to the very top of his game by way of the American Dream and dealing in freedom of speech as people take to a man but do anything but take to what it is he says.

Talk Radio begins with a montage of tall, towering buildings in a business based area of Dallas, Texas. The skyscrapers are shot from a ,ow angle and tower over the viewer plus everything else in the general vicinity as this voice of one man tears through the images, belting out statements and information on items as these monolithic buildings dominate out screen. They are the very physical representation of capitalism, while the voice of what we learn to be a radio DJ is the oral representation of the free west; personal speech and opinions on anything and everything. Stone will finish his film in the exact same manner in which he started it, although the film is anything but a circular journey of any sort as the characters undergo monumental changes in both what they witness and their general livelihood. Rather, the shots of the buildings act as an anchor around which the study is observed. The ideologies and ideas of a way of life exist; people subscribe to them, but it does them more harm than good; before the re-establishment that this proud way of life still exists and will continue to exist in churning out the sorts of people on display in the film until someone or something drastically changes things.

The DJ is Barry Champlain, a man with a radio show on a local Texan station dealing with just about anything. Champlain's somewhat carefree attitude to some pretty explosive content is established when he flies from one call with a bigoted man whom recently visited a Holocaust museum to a young drug addict whose girlfriend has supposedly overdosed and onto both the berating and mocking of a pizza shop. To us, the content comes across as quite shocking; to these people, everything seems to be business as usual which plants some serious seeds of both doubt and horror within the minds of us, the newcomers to all of this.

What Barry's show is about, nobody ever seems to really establish: everything and nothing. Indeed, time is taken in the form of either jingles or dialogue that the shows immediately pre and post Champlain's show are on specific subjects; gardening, for instance, and are hosted by calm speaking and methodical people whom, I'm sure, do not flit from one random or extreme to another all the time raising the stakes. One wonders what Barry's jingle is, the kind that plays around about lunch time during someone else's' show: "Coming up later, the Barry Champlain show! Featuring the village idiot and psychotic drug abusers!" Indeed, his show's introductory piece carries a matter-of-fact tone, a shouting at the audience, as a loud rock track accompanies it.

Barry's success arrives in the national syndication proposal. It's born out of confrontation and a relationship built on the contempt he has for his listeners and that they have for him. The furthering of the material and the upping of the stakes ought to call into question just how far they think they can take this, and whether this progressing down a track for sake of entertainment is really worth it. It is when the show reaches this level of broadcast that Barry seems to come unstuck for the first time in his broadcasting life, when a supposed serial rapist calls in and leaves mostly everyone slightly stunned. It's at this point the camera pauses on Barry, and by way of depth of focus, encompasses those same looming, towering buildings the film began with which stand outside of the window, directly behind Barry. They remain tall and proud. Specifically, of the ideologies they've been built on and this furtherance of freedom of speech in broadening Barry's show nationwide as one man climbs his profession's ladder suddenly clashes with the sort of content that's being offered. Everything reaches a point too far, and that with freedom, ought to at least come a sense of clarity rather than a mere revelling.

Oliver Stone made Talk Radio right in the middle of both a fascinating and explosive period of film-making he had in the late 1980s. In this time, he produced a series of really well received films in a pretty short space of time; beginning with one of my favourite war films in Platoon before continuing with the quite brilliant Wall Street and eventually finishing with 1991's JFK. One might even say that this run continued on into the mid-nineties with Natural Born Killers. Talk Radio is like its lead character in the sense it's loud, booming, stark and confrontational. It isn't anti-capitalism, as much as it is focused on drawing a line between what is perceived as entertainment and what is just going too far for sake of popularity and riches. Talk Radio is certainly a film that sticks in the memory.