Overnight

I saw this film at the San Diego Film Festival and consider myself extremely lucky to have seen it. The film chronicles the rise and crumble of Troy Duffy, temporary wunderkind. The film managed to capture the process of instant success and provide such a thorough window into one man's descent into his own ego. Duffy manages to ruin every single wonderful opportunity he is blessed with. He becomes a pariah in the film industry, a dirty word that even the munificent Harvey Weinstein won't touch. It is an incredibly intense, cringe-inducing film as you see Duffy unravel in front of the directors ever-present camera. Duffy uses the camera as confessional and it in turn captures his self-inflicted demise. It is a testament to the filmmakers ability that they managed to infuse the film with a palpable sense of pity for their subject. This film must be compulsory viewing for any filmmaker as a cautionary tale into the heart of hype, ego, and the fleeting love affair Hollywood has with the next big thing. Bravo gentlemen, you've made a great film.

If Bernardo Bertolucci, the director of TRAGEDY OF A RIDICULOUS MAN, had directed OVERNIGHT, he might have titled it COMEUPPANCE OF AN EGOTISTICAL MAN. That egotistical man is Troy Duffy, a bartender and aspiring screenwriter/director/musician from New England who became the star of his own real-life Cinderella story. THE BOONDOCK SAINTS, Duffy's original Boston-set script about two Irish brothers-turned-vigilantes, was bought by Miramax's Harvey Weinstein, who sweetened the deal by letting Duffy direct and score the film as well as buying Duffy's tavern. Alas, Duffy's cockiness proved to be outright arrogance as he began making demands before production began on either the film or the album, and this Cinderella Man's coach turned back into a pumpkin. Even Duffy's brother Taylor and his longtime friends come in for harsh treatment from the not-so-wunderkind, as he keeps expecting them to work their butts off despite their funds dwindling to the point that some of them are on the verge of being evicted. By the end of the film, almost all of The Brood Syndicate, as they call themselves, have gone back to the kind of manual labor jobs they thought they'd left behind once Miramax came calling, and Duffy is a Hollywood pariah. In addition to Duffy's egotism, his naïveté contributed to his downward spiral. Surely he'd spent enough time in L.A. at that point to have heard about Weinstein's tendency to snap up movie properties and then either put them in turnaround or leave them gathering dust on the shelf (didn't he ever pick up issues of VARIETY, THE Hollywood REPORTER, etc.?). Moreover, Mr. I Know More Than the Guys Who've Been in the Film Business for Years neglected to include broadcast and home video rights in his William Morris contract, so despite THE BOONDOCK SAINTS eventually overcoming its pitiful 5-theater release to become a cult favorite on home video, Duffy doesn't make a penny off it. Don't miss the Albert Goldman quote at the end about how fame doesn't change a person, but instead acts as a "truth drug" that reveals the person's true character. Granted, the directors of OVERNIGHT are two of Duffy's former friends from The Brood Syndicate, but they swear they actually left out footage that would have made Duffy look even worse. I suppose Duffy is lucky there isn't a Director's Cut of OVERNIGHT -- angry mobs would be chasing him down with flaming torches! :-)

Troy Duffy is an idiot. Just watch Overnight. In it he bullies film executives, record producers, band members and friends. But even worse than this, he thinks he's some sort of genius. He thinks he's a great musician and filmmaker.

Validating Duffy's delusion is the fact that Miramax buys his script for The Boondock Saints. Thinking he's the next Tarantino, they give him $300,000 for the script, they hand him the reigns to direct the movie (with a $15m budget), they allow him to produce the soundtrack with his band, he gets to approve casting and is allowed final cut, and the final part of the deal is that Miramax will buy his bar (prior to getting into film, he's a bartender and bouncer). It's a great deal. It's an amazing deal. It's a deal that's out of this world. Only a moron could screw it up.

Well, Troy Duffy is that moron. Given this great deal, he proceeds to abuse and alienate everyone around him. So much so that a film that initially starts out as a loving document to his talents ends up being a character assassination.

One of the first things we hear from Duffy's lips is that friendship is the most important thing in the world to him. Therefore one could assume that, despite the rough edges, he's an honourable guy. Nothing could be further from the truth. In one ball-shriving scene he refuses to pay his friends who had operated for a long time as the managers of his band. He says they don't deserve any money. His friends then point out all the time they spent managing the band – all the effort they put into it. Duffy then changes his mind and says that they do deserve the money. But at the same time he says he's still not going to give it to them. This he says to people who are in financial problems because of him. People who have broken their back for him.

But this actually isn't the first record deal that the band receives. Earlier on Maverick Records sign them up sight unseen. But just when you're slapping your head at the stupidity of Madonna's label, Duffy messes up and annoys them. He then rants and raves and says the label is scared. He says they're scared of how good the brood are. What the hell? If Duffy is right then he's saying that the label are scared of making lots of money? Yeah, makes perfect sense.

But eventually the band get signed to Atlantic Records, which leads to the argument over money with the former band managers (who, incidentally, are the makers of this documentary). The moment when the band is signing their contract and receiving their money in cash is pathetic. They're like dogs begging for scraps.

But thankfully the album has a happy ending. They only sell 690 copies…after being in stores for six months.

And yet earlier in the film, when they're recording, Duffy wonders why his fellow band members haven't been coming up to him and shaking his hand for securing the deal. He even says that the album isn't a group effort. He says it's all down to him – without him, there's nothing. So surely that means that the album's failure is his and his alone? Maybe his fellow band members should line up and take turns punching him in the face.

But Duffy's film fares just as well as his album. It's dumped in five theatres for one week and makes $25,000. It's pathetic even for him.

However, I'm sure Duffy would have lots of explanations for this. You see, after getting a great deal with Miramax, he proceeds to alienate them to such an extent with his bitching and moaning that they pull out. Therefore the film is financed independently. Of course this doesn't concern Duffy, who says that when the film is made and Miramax want back in, they can pay their way back in. But when it comes to selling the film, nobody wants a part of it. Most of the time I'd be appalled that a filmmaker could be blacklisted and that the industry would conspire against him, but here it makes me happy. Duffy is man who was given a great chance to prove himself. All he had to do was shut his mouth and get on with things. Instead he acted like a child and tried to throw his weight around. Hell, at one point, before he's even shot a foot of film or recorded one note of his album, he says that he's gone straight from a bartender and surpassed everyone – he's already right at the top. Only an idiot could think that way – don't you have to have produced something first to be at the top? Therefore the film's awful distribution deal had me grinning like a loon.

I'm also kind of amused by the way the makers of the documentary try and screw Duffy over. In one scene we see Duffy bemoan his ability to find a decent girl – he just wants to find a nice girl he can settle down with. We then cut to some sleazy footage of a drunk Duffy getting girls to show him their breasts. The film never tries to be objective and is all the more entertaining for it.

Unfortunately, though, there is a black cloud that hangs over me. The Boondock Saints became a cult hit. There are many people who love it. But just when I feel low I remember that Duffy isn't a profit participant in the cable and DVD sales – he just got a lump sum of money. Therefore Duffy doesn't make a cent out of the film's success in the home market. How brilliant is that?

There is nothing more enjoyable than watching a very mean and terrible person getting what he deserves. It helps me get up in the morning that complete jerks like Troy Duffy get what they deserve. He is an egotistical under talented sexist intolerant moronic alcoholic piece of trash that I have no sympathy for. He clearly did it to himself. Although I have to say this film was not well put together and carried on on some subjects too long it was very entertaining. It is amazing to see how much Troy Duffy thinks of himself. He is a jerk to his whole family especially his brother. I really cannot believe he is trying to get back into the industry with Boondock Saints 2. Poof!

This is a doc that makes you squirm in pain at what you see happening on the screen-- no matter how you feel about the "Harvey" referenced repeatedly in the film, Troy Duffy manages to make you take Harvey's side. That, in itself, is a major accomplishment. There is no sugarcoating what you see on the screen, no Moore-ish distortions, just Duffy managing to show the viewers exactly what he is made of, and how he feels about himself, and everyone else to boot.

A great documentary, well worth watching-- and when available, buying on DVD to keep on your shelf in case you need to remind yourself about "staying humble."

An interesting take on pain-- emotional pain-- on giving it, receiving it, and living through it. .