Testigo en la mira

A very strange film with a sterling cast.

Anne Benton (Jodie Foster) was in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed a murder. Now, the mob and the police are after her as she flees rather than enter witness protection.

On the police side, we get Fred Ward (Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins). On the mob side, we have the boss, Vincent Price; John Turturro (Barton Fink, "Monk"); Tony Sirico ("The Sopranos"); and Joe Pesci (Goodfellas, Raging Bull).

Cameos by Bob Dylan, Charlie Sheen, and Catherine Keener added up to a great cast. Too bad the movie wasn't as good as the people in it.

Dennis Hopper (Hoosiers, Easy Rider), who also produced and directed the movie, played Milo, a hit man hired by the mob to catch the girl. Unfortunately, they didn't figure him to become obsessed with her, and what's more we didn't figure that she would develop Stockholm Syndrome.

This film came in between Foster's two Oscar winning performances in The Accused and Silence of the Lambs. We get a good look at Jodie's Fosters not once, but twice in the most skintastic performance of her career. She is one good looking woman.

Dennis Hopper's go-for-broke-on-a-slim-budget black comedy about a hit-man falling for his target, a strange but alluring young woman who makes pop art out of neon signs. I enjoyed bits of "Backtrack" (see that, not the butchered European print entitled "Catchfire") such as the gorgeous theater in New Mexico where Jodie Foster hides out or the funny scene where she's pacing around in the bathroom, trying to decide how far she should go with her pervy kidnapper. Unfortunately, the knockabout editing leaves the film feeling somewhat disjointed and the actors are occasionally encouraged to just wing it, but without funny results. I didn't mind the ending--I was hoping for an upbeat one--but these characters don't turn out to be particularly smart people. They're dizzy, lustful little cyphers, and they might've been more engaging if they'd been written with brains.

This film mixes some features rarely found together: mob violence, guns, murder, chases and crashes, a woman in jeopardy... AND some understated humor, would-ya-believe romance and kindness to animals, and a happy ending of sorts.

Dennis Hopper took his name off the cut version, which apparently omits, among others, parts of scenes featuring Jodie Foster's nudity. This is the version I saw, and even thus cut I give the film a 7.

The plot is straightforward: a hitman (Dennis Hopper) hired to kill a woman (Jodie Foster) who witnessed a mob murder gives her the option of staying alive and being "his." Then, since he defaulted on his assignment, they must flee mob reprisal.

My relatively high rating is based on Hopper's direction and on the acting, principally of the two main stars. (Joe Pesci and Dean Stockwell contribute wryly amusing mafioso figures.)

This is certainly not a comedy or romance film, nor is it intended to be. Nor is it "warm human drama." It's not at all slapstick or maudlin.

What impressed me most were Hopper's characterization and the scenes of their developing relationship. Hopper's Milo is a professional killer, a man of little polish (contrasting the wheelchair-ridden Vincent Price as the mob boss).

But a man's a man, for all that. Especially good is a scene early in their relationship, in which the hitman expresses his awed smittenness for his then-captive. His plain-spoken awkwardness shows, low-key, the loneliness and vulnerability of a man who has not experienced much love in his life.

And if you think a woman in such a situation could never respond favorably (albeit gradually), you don't know much about women -- and I don't mean the Stockholm Syndrome(?), that phenomenon of hostages warming up to their captors. The dynamics of their relationship -- the gradual, subtle shifting of their feelings and reactions -- are masterfully but quietly, almost incidentally, portrayed by Foster and especially Hopper. This film is certainly in the European style.

Still, you action fans shouldn't stay away; though not much gore, there is a sufficiency of sinister dread, gratuitous violence, and crashings and burnings.

Throughout this movie, I found myself shaking my head, awed that a movie could be so horribly bad. All Dennis Hopper did was create his fantasy, then film it. "Dull, unintelligent man gains complexity by sparing the life of a beautiful artist, forcing her to have sex with him and then winning her heart". I don't have a problem with that in itself, but he attempted to justify it by throwing in some "artistic expression" which was laughably misplaced. Jodie Foster's character had potential which was left largely untouched, many times she edged on being complex, but unfortunately most avenues went unexplored. Dennis Hopper's character was, well, flat. Never before have I winced while watching a film, but did repeatedly during this one. The kicker was when "The End" flashed up on the electronic message board. Ouch. What a mistake for all involved.

Backtrack, aka Catchfire, is one of those classic "Alan Smithee" cases, but unlike say David Lynch's Dune it's hard to feel too sorry for the filmmaker in the case of producers fiddling with the "original" vision. Dennis Hopper's original cut of the film was three hours, which is more akin to a move out of Erich von Stroheim; maybe it is genius in its full form, but perhaps Hopper would have been better just taking what is a half-bitter, half-sweet neo-noir with pitch black comedy and crazy romance as a shorter feature. Is the question more that a 3 hour cut may *still* be a mess rather than it's a lost masterpiece? (Originally Easy Rider had a fate like this with Hopper's original cut something like 4 hours, then trimmed to 95 minutes it was great). A Magnificent Ambersons butchering it also is definitely not. No tears are shed over Backtrack/Catchfire's status.

Matter of fact there is a 2 hour director's cut, which somewhat sadly is hard to track down. So, taking into account this 98 minute "studio" cut (studio in a loose term since Vestron is no longer even around), it's bound to have flaws. To give Hopper his credit a lot of this is due to a choppy rhythm; sometimes there's a spectacular cut (i.e. when he jumps from a rooftop it cuts right away to him opening a drawer in a room), and sometimes it really does feel like a little extra detail or moment is excised in favor of keeping the plot going.

It's not a bad plot either, if somewhat typical in the film noir tradition: a woman has one of those freak chance of occurrences on a road as her tires go flat on a highway, and walking along the side of the road she sees in a wasteland a mob hit. The mobsters see her, she escapes in time, goes to the cops, and then when the mob comes by and kills her boyfriend she goes on the run - not taking into account a strange, soulful hit-man is on her trail, more as a stalker than a killer, leading to a very challenging moment halfway where the gears shift in tone.

The first half is fairly fun as a chase movie and has some surprises, mostly in cameos that had me smile (Vincent Price) and shaking my head and laughing like I was having a hallucination (Bob Dylan), with Hopper creating what looks to be another in a line of classic psychos (he has the skill of a puzzle-solver following Foster's trail, and sometimes plays the saxophone to relax). The mood also reflects wonderfully a sense of the noir with Foster changing her look (blonde wig and black jacket) with the conventional jazz music put behind her. When he finally tracks her down, however, there's a possibly great scene: Hopper, with a tie around her neck and handcuffs on her hands, gives Foster a choice, either die right now or be "mine" so that she would be under his total control. There's such tense acting here by the leads that it promises that this will lead to an electrifying second half.

This is not the case. Instead we get a fairly quickly unfolding of a romance, oddly enough, as Hopper's quasi-captive finally falls for her sort of sensitive and awkward hit-man, and there's even a weirdly "cute" scene where Hopper fulfills a secret that she has which is to have lots of pink Hostess cakes! There's a sort of absurdity here that maybe echoes Bunuel; it's kind of sadistically dangerous, and at the same time starts to make less sense even as it ratchets up some memorable, baroque images (the burning figure at night right before Hopper goes into Foster's room to take her sort of hostage). The acting isn't bad either, but again the sense of rhythm is off, and it's hard to look past that as the film is what it is and has to be seen like that.

As a curiosity it's surely a must-see - it's got a who's who of stars and character actors, from Charlie Sheen to Price to Joe Pesci to Catherine Keener to Jon Tuturro to Paulie from the Sopranos - though it's hard to exactly call it a very "good" movie. Too much of it ticks and tocks with a near originality to ignore it, but it's too flawed to see as some work of tortured genius either.