Cruising

A cop (Al Pacino) agrees to go undercover in order to track down a killer targeting homosexuals in the S&M leather scene...

Based on a book by Gerald Walker, Cruising became an instant lightning rod for controversy when it went before the cameras. Shot just as the gay rights movement was really taking hold, the film was perceived as a step backwards for the homosexual community - its sordid tale of gays in the leather club scene projecting precisely the kind of perverse image that the community was looking to shed. Tried and executed, in effect, before the film was even in the can, writer/director William Friedkin - who had earlier done the film adaptation of The Boys in the Band - faced inevitable charges of homophobia and the film opened to blistering reviews, negative publicity and mediocre box office. In the ensuing years, however, a strong cult following has developed around the film, which is now often lumped in with The French Connection (1971), The Exorcist (1973) and Sorcerer (1977) as one of Friedkin's major movies.

The film deals with the theme of the ambiguity of identity that is common in Friedkin's oeuvre. Pacino's protagonist - a still wet-behind-the-ears recruit - starts off as confident and secure in his identity, but his assignment causes him to question aspects of himself, including his sexuality. The film is more about his journey, in fact, than it is about the mechanics of the murder mystery. This aspect has caused more than one reviewer to complain that the film is incoherent or muddy, but in truth this is another key trademark in Friedkin's filmography. From The Birthday Party (1968) to Bug (2007), Friedkin's films have shown a keen interest in raising provocative questions while refusing to directly answer them. This elliptical approach gives his films lasting power, but it can prove frustrating to viewers who prefer to have a more neat and linear approach to narrative. In this respect, the film's reckless approach to the mystery component is similar to the later, more unorthodox gialli of Mario Bava - in films like Five Dolls for an August Moon (1970) or Twitch of the Death Nerve (1971), the emphasis is less on "who done it?" than it is on the inevitability of violence in a corrupt society. Friedkin's film is part of a select group of movies - including the colorful thrillers of Brian DePalma - that play very much like an American giallo, and the debt is likely not accidental as the director is an avowed fan of Bava and Dario Argento. Even so, it would be a mistake to suggest that the film is imitative or overtly indebted to anything in particular - its melding of psychological drama, gritty police procedural and unsettling imagery is pure Friedkin through and through.

The director is well served by a top notch cast and crew. Though pushing 40 when he made the film, Pacino's youthful good looks are sufficient to convince the viewer that he's a young recruit. It has been said that Pacino did not enjoy making the film due to the negative publicity it attracted, but his discomfort plays into the character's neuroses very well. While the actor has tended to rely on over the top mannerisms in many recent films, here he is subtle and restrained, effectively hitting all the right notes while adding ambiguous touches of his own - his final close-up, for example, is as haunting an image as anything he's ever done. The supporting cast is an eclectic mix of favorite Friedkin bit players (including Joe Spinell and Randy Jurgensen) and young actors who'd later find greater fame (Karen Allen, Ed O'Neill, Powers Boothe), but the best impression is made by Paul Sorvino (Goodfellas) as Pacino's haunted superior officer. Sorvino effectively conveys the character's good intentions while ably suggesting his basic impotence in the situation. Sadly, much of Allen's role was reduced in the cutting, but she is a beautiful presence and lends pathos to a role that barely exists in the final cut. In addition to the terrific performances, the film gets a lot of steam from its soundtrack. Composer Jack Nitszche (who had done some work on The Exorcist) provides some haunting themes, but much of the soundtrack is dominated by punk songs associated with the leather scene of the period. The mixture of Nitszche's subtle themes and the driving tempo of the punk songs adds to the film's relentless pacing; regrettably, there does not seem to be a CD release of the soundtrack in print.

Powerful as the film is, it deserves to be noted that some of its impact was permanently diluted in the cutting. According to Friedkin, he took his cast and crew to the real leather bars and encouraged the patrons to go about their normal routine - some of the routine, during this pre-AIDS period, included all manner of sexual activities out in the open. Friedkin filmed as much of this material as he could, hoping to use it as a way of showing how repressed the Pacino character has been in the way he reacts to these situations, but the executives at Warner Brothers forced him to remove much of this material for fear of getting an X rating. A reluctant Friedkin ended up removing approximately 40 minutes of material from the film (some of this being graphic material, some of it character material) though he rebelled by employing a favored tactic: during the murder scenes, he spliced in subliminal glimpses of pornography as a means of making the audience feel off-kilter. The tactic worked, and the MPAA passed the film with these brief flashes intact. The end effect of the cutting, regrettably, was to dull some of the film's impact. The purpose of the graphic footage was not to indulge in mere exploitation but to really crank the film up to its maximum impact, while the loss of the character footage (presumably removed to get the film down to a more theatre-friendly running time) merely helped to obscure an already elusive narrative. The end result is inevitably less coherent than, say, The French Connection or The Exorcist, but Cruising has a life of its own and the film has lost none of its impact in nearly 30 years.

A long-awaited title on DVD, Cruising has finally received the SE treatment. In preparing this release, Friedkin was hoping to incorporate the cut footage back into the film so that he could present his long-suppressed director's cut, but found that the footage had been junked years ago. Frustrated by this development, the director's spirits were further lowered by the state of the original negative, which had deteriorated to an alarming degree. Fortunately, a proper restoration was funded and the director was able to supervise a newly re-mastered transfer that has nevertheless found some controversy in the on-line community. In doing the transfer, Friedkin opted for a heavy blue tint during the various club and nighttime exterior scenes - the effect is one that notches up the film's already somber tone, but purists used to the way the film used to look have been put off by this aesthetic decision. Contrary to some reports, the entire film does not have a blue tint - the day time exteriors and scenes outside of the clubs look as they did before, though the restored image quality adds some color and luster to the image. Friedkin also opted to make a couple of minor adjustments to the film, again to the consternation of the purists.

The changes are minor: a point of view shot of the second victim during his death scene has been treated to give it a weird negative quality similar to the blackout scene in Friedkin's film of The Birthday Party; a telescoping optical has been added to the fadeout on Pacino watching the killer's house - whereas before the entire image faded to black, here it stays in focus on Pacino, whose back is to the camera, while the rest of the image fades; and the scene of Pacino inhaling amyl nitrates and dancing at the club has been altered to reflect his reaction to the drug by brightening the image (effectively removing the somber blue sheen) and adding a "jittery" effect. Friedkin also has removed the opening disclaimer - necessary in 1980, but not so now - which assured the audience that the film's focus was only on a small sub-section of the gay community, and has added a brief opening title in its place. The cumulative effect of these alterations are negligible, but Friedkin wanted the changes enough to make them and they hardly detract from the film's impact. Beyond this, the film offers a terrific 1.85/16x9 transfer - the colors are vivid, the detail is sharp and one would be hard pressed to guess that the negative was in such bad condition at the beginning of the process.

In addition to a commentary by Friedkin, the disc includes the original trailer and two in-depth featurettes about the making, cutting and reception of the film. The featurettes are very well done - Pacino's participation is missed, but Friedkin and members of the cast and crew do a splendid job of detailing the film's trials and tribulations. Sadly, Friedkin's commentary isn't one of his better efforts in this area. Basically Friedkin's tracks range from the lucid and engaging (The Guardian, the 25th anniversary release of The Exorcist) to the turgid (none worse than his track for the "Version You've Never Seen" of The Exorcist); this track ranks somewhere in between. While Friedkin holds his own very well for the first hour or so, beyond that he resorts to narrating the onscreen action as it unfolds - a pointless and somewhat maddening approach that takes up the second half of the film. That said, between the featurettes and the first half of the commentary, Friedkin says volumes about the film and its refusal to answer the questions it raises.

One of Friedkin's signature works finally gets a DVD release; while a better commentary or the incorporation of the legendary lost material would have been nice, it's still a fine, long overdue release.

Video	3.5/5

Audio	3.5/5

Extras	4.5/5

Overall	4/5