| Collector's Corner November 2008
Risky Business
- Starring: Tom Cruise, Rebecca De Mornay,
Joe Pantoliano, Curtis Armstrong, Bronson Pinchot, Richard Masur
- Directed by: Paul Brickman
- Theatrical release: 1983
- Blu-ray and DVD release: 2008
- Video: 1.85:1 (widescreen)
- Sound: Dolby Digital 5.1
- Released by: Warner Home Video
 Joel and buddy . . .
"sometimes you gotta say, what the fuck, and make your move." Joel thinks his
friend is set, and is going to Harvard. Joel doesn’t want to make a mistake and
jeopardize his future. "What the fuck" gives you freedom, which brings you
opportunity, which makes your future. Miles says "so your folks are going out of town
. . ." tomorrow. Got the place to yourself . . . "What the fuck."
-- writer-director Paul Brickman, from his outline for Risky Business
Risky Business has been on the short list of films I
wanted to write about since I started this column in 2001. The new Blu-ray edition has
forced me to it, but not without some angst.
But it’s a comedy, right? A teenage "coming of
age" film, sweet and simple?
Well, no. There’s more to it than that.
Just in case anyone reading this hasn’t seen Risky
Business (is that possible?), it’s about a group of teenagers thrust together
over a wild weekend. Joel (Tom Cruise) is a fearful, guilt-ridden high school senior
trying to get some of the action he thinks all his friends are having without ruining his
future. Miles (Curtis Armstrong) is a brilliant friend who can goof off, drink lots of
beer, and goad Joel into taking chances, but who’s still going to Harvard. Barry
(Bronson Pinchot) is Joel’s sad-sack friend, easily embarrassed and mercilessly
abused by his friends, but loyal to Joel. Lana (Rebecca De Mornay), a hooker about
Joel’s age, is sadly wise to a world the boy will never know about. And Lana’s
pimp, Guido (Joe Pantoliano), is a dangerous sociopath.
Joel’s simple, suburban upbringing on Chicago’s
North Shore goes terribly wrong when he’s advised by Miles: "Joel, you wanna
know something? Every now and then say, ‘What the fuck.’ ‘What the
fuck’ gives you freedom. Freedom brings opportunity. Opportunity makes your
future." When his parents go away for a week, Joel decides to have his first sexual
experience and hires a hooker. But it costs a bit more than he’d expected, and Lana
and Guido, none too happy about waiting for their money, take Joel’s mother’s
favorite artwork as collateral. Joel has to hunt down Lana and Guido in downtown Chicago,
risking a good deal more than he ever expected. Suddenly, "What the fuck"
doesn’t sound like such a good philosophy.
Sounds pretty funny, right?
As everyone knows who’s seen it, Risky Business
really is hilarious. Like any great film, it’s an emotional roller coaster: sexy,
side-splittingly funny, suspenseful, and smart. But given the same script, Cameron Crowe
would have made a sad film, Abel Ferrara a dark, violent tragedy, Joel and Ethan Coen a
wacky rethinking of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
That’s part of what makes Risky Business a
classic. Paul Brickman’s writing and directing have the lightness and absurdity of
Howard Hawks and the blushing sexiness of Billy Wilder. Joel’s descent into trouble
is as tightly argued as the plot of Hitchcock’s North by Northwest. Just so I
don’t put too fine a point on it, in my opinion, Risky Business is one of the
most important films of the 1980s, right up there with Raging Bull, Blade Runner,
and Do the Right Thing.
Risky Business made Tom Cruise a star and a kind of
sad, multibillionaire buffoon. Since then, the only time he’s lived up to his acting
promise was in P.T. Anderson’s Magnolia, a film few saw and fewer understood.
Rebecca De Mornay pulls off the trick of being a phenomenal turn-on whose love is a
question mark: sleazy and sweet, powerful and vulnerable. As she makes you horny, she also
makes you feel sad. Find me a heterosexual male who didn’t want to make love with on
a real train and I’d say have his blood checked.
Risky Business has been good to all the cast and
crew. Cruise can still pack a theater. De Mornay, Pantoliano, Armstrong, Pinchot, and
Masur have all been able to make livings as film actors since appearing in Risky
Business, which is better than most actors. Paul Brickman, a legendary perfectionist,
has since focused on writing. His only other stint in the director’s chair was for Men
Don’t Leave (1990), a wonderful movie with a sterling cast and the finest
work Joan Cusack has ever committed to film. I wish he’d come back. We need directors
like him.
Warner Home Video has done a wonderful job on this 25th
Anniversary Edition. Of course, the Blu-ray picture is superb, especially the dreamy train
scene. For serious fans, it’s the extras that will seal this deal. Both the DVD and
Blu-ray feature a worthwhile "making of" feature, as well as screen tests and
Brickman’s preferred cut of the final scene. The DVD features a commentary track by
Brickman, Cruise, and producer Jon Avnet, while the Blu-ray has a video commentary
(BonusView or BD Live plus an Internet connection are required). In a move that Jack
Valenti’s pals never could conjure, a digital copy is included for your iPod or
PC-compatible device.
I also have more personal reasons for loving this film. The
angst I talked about at the beginning is triggered by that concept of "what the
fuck." I had a very close friend named John. In 1983, when Risky Business was
released, John and I were (we thought) big-shot entrepreneurs who ran psychiatric
hospitals: young and cocky, we were sure that we were the best. Risky Business lit
our rockets. As we traveled all over the US, dropping into hospitals to sprinkle a little
of our magic, we’d inevitably start quoting the film, then howl at people’s
blank stares. We called it the look a dog would give you as you’re trying to explain
parallel parking. The more they stared, the harder we laughed.
One day, a daughter of one of history’s most famous
psychologists lit into us, telling us that we were caught up in an adolescent male fantasy
in which nothing ever goes wrong. We laughed and said, "And? You have a point?"
And erupted again.
Things hit a peak when our company’s reputation began
to rise. Suddenly, investors were knocking on our door, offering us money for expansion.
John and I and our four partners decided to take them up on their offer.
There was a moment -- it happens any time a venture
capitalist is getting ready to give you hundreds of millions of dollars to start your
dream company -- when those big Wall Street execs fixed each of us with a fiery stare and
asked if we were ready for this. There was tension in the air. John and I looked at each
other and said, in unison, "What the fuck," and exploded into laughter. Our
partners were not amused, and neither were the investors. We didn’t care. We were
living the "what the fuck" life and everything was still going our way.
After a couple of successful years, John and I lost
everything we had in the company. For a while, we even lost our friendship. Suddenly,
"What the fuck" didn’t sound like such a cool philosophy.
John died of pancreatic cancer about six years ago. He was
broke, and being fed by a kindly church. Toward the end he would call me from Chicago,
sometimes in tears from the physical pain, and the tragedy of knowing he wouldn’t see
his daughters grow up. But after the tears passed, we would hoot at the mere thought of
that boardroom. Then we’d start trading quotes from the script of Risky Business:
[soto voce] "The dream is always the
same."
[sweet, girly voice] "Are you ready for me . . . Ralph?"
[pleading] "Joel, do what they say -- just get off the babysitter."
[professorial] "If there were any logic to our language, trust would be
a four-letter word."
[panicked] "My life is ruined."
[South Chicago accent] "So, who’s the U-boat commander?"
[pleading] "I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life in
analysis."
[furious] "You listen to me, buster, you, you a-hole."
[Brooklyn Italian] "Time of your life, huh, kid?"
John was dying in terrible pain -- the freedom of our
laughter was worth all the money we’d lost.
Risky Business creates a jumble of spellbinding
feelings: a mix of empowerment, chagrin, anxiety, and exuberant fun. Few films have had
such an effect on me, yet I keep watching, guffawing every time I see it. Seeing it today,
I drift back and forth between some of my own most cherished memories and a more direct
focus on the film itself. But whenever I return to the movie, I’m still amazed at how
many feelings and how much intelligence Brickman was able to pack into 99 minutes.
Some people have written Risky Business off as just
another teen film. It’s not, any more than J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the
Rye is just a teen book.
"Time of your life, huh, kid?"
Absolutely.
. . . Wes Marshall
wesm@hometheatersound.com |
