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Body Double (Brian De Palma) 1984
* * 10-15-02 Jeremy Heilman
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By the time Brian De Palma made 1984’s Body Double, he seemed to have taken the Hitchcock homage about as
far as he could take it. This time out, he most explicitly references a trio of
Hitch’s films (Vertigo, Rear
Window, and Psycho) that he had previously paid extensive tribute to with better
end results (most notably in Obsession,
Sisters, Dressed to Kill). Double’s
references to Hitchcock often seem forced and obligatory (though there are
briefly sustained passages of brilliance), and it’s often tough to tell if the
excitement that arises during the movie is emanating from the predicament of the
protagonist or the anticipation created mostly by memories that are left over
from viewing the referenced Hitchcock movies. It doesn’t help much that the Double
centers on Jake (Craig Wasson), a struggling actor who utterly fails to compel
any sort of audience sympathy since he’s such a schmuck. Though one could
argue that Jimmy Stewart played a similar role in the Hitchcock films, his
repressed sexuality at least had an air of sophistication about it, mostly
because his impulses didn’t have any sort of socially acceptable outlet in the
time that he lived in. Since Jake takes place in Hollywood during the ‘80s and
he has seemingly unimpeded access to the seedy porn industry that thrives there,
his inability to express his sexual frustrations seems pathetic in comparison.
That might be precisely the point, however. Watching Body
Double, there’s more than a passing suspicion that to De Palma the entire
enterprise is a gag. Nothing seems to have much dramatic weight to it even
though it’s amped up beyond belief by the director, and though De Palma had
proven himself in the past capable of creating congenial lead roles and
maintaining suspense for inordinate periods of time, it seems that here he can
scarcely be bothered to do either. He underlines the bland characteristics of
his lead actor at every opportunity and he seems as interested in chastising him
for his voyeuristic tendencies (notice how Jake so quickly judges his fellow
voyeurs) as exploring them. Though De Palma has confounded audience expectation
in many of his other films, his directorial derring-do has rarely has felt as
spiteful as it does here (though Raising
Cain is similarly audience-hating at times). Worse still, instead of
delivering the epic set pieces found in such De Palma films as Sisters
and Blow Out, most of the director’s
suspense sequences are technically inferior and come off as rather pale
extensions of the Hitchcock originals. There’s a lovely circular kiss midway
through that becomes a process-shot blur and a ghastly murder a bit minutes
later that’s exciting because of its sheer phallic audaciousness, but
otherwise things seem tame. Even the extreme amount of sexual content seems
studied and fetishized instead of erotic or dangerous. Ultimately, Body
Double feels like a film that seems more interested in pleasing itself than
pleasing the audience.