After True Love was a big winner at Sundance Nancy Savoca was given a shot at making a move for Warner Bros., a pretty big deal for a novice director. That doesn't mean that the studio really gave her a shot, though - her second movie, Dogfight, was only released in two theaters (!) in the US and went direct to video in the UK, part of a long tradition of studios bungling a slightly off-centered movie's distribution and then calling the movie a failure as if they had nothing to do with it. It's pretty unfortunate, as Dogfight is one of the best movie romances of the 90's and among the best performances for Lily Taylor and River Phoenix, the latter more precious due to his untimely death.
Set in San Francisco in the early 60's, Dogfight stars Phoenix as Eddie Birdlace, a listless young Marine about to be sent to Vietnam whose friends like to partake in "dogfights", group dates where each boy finds the ugliest girl they can ask out and take them to a dance club so they can vote on who's the biggest "dog". The "winner" gets a pot of money and usually the girl gets a cut, so there are a few regulars to the "fight". Eddie isn't one to back down from a challenge, so after running around for a while he comes across Rose (Taylor), a lonely, pacifistic coffee shop clerk, and sweet-talks her into going with her, though she has no idea about the fight. She finds out about it from another "contestant" in the bathroom and is understandably angry. However, during the course of the night Eddie has actually taken a liking to her. After some awkward flirting they go on a long, winding date through San Francisco that same night, and as they grow closer their bond becomes deeper and stranger, revealing aspects of their personalities and stations in life that are both impossible to ignore and heavy with symbolic weight.
Whereas True Love was brash and bawdy, Dogfight is enormously tender. Written by the unprolific Bob Comfort, the film uses the backdrop of Haight Ashbury at the cusp of Vietnam to explode a microcosmic romantic encounter to a hugely enveloping experience. The conceit of Eddie having to leave the next day allows for events to play out almost in real time, and each new locale they visit is more wonderful than the last but another inch closer to a devastating departure. The period reconstruction is unbelievable, as SF landmarks like City Lights Books rub shoulders with magical nooks and crannies, such as a basement filled with antique mechanical toys. The performances by Phoenix and Taylor are stunning, arguably the best of their careers (but with Phoenix that's a hard claim to make, as there's about four or five "best" performances to choose from), each actor totally inhabiting their roles and creating fascinating opposites. Savoca's direction lovingly draws out every detail from the sets, lighting and action without being overbearing, allowing the setting and story to take on a magic realist quality where anything can happen, and the magnified timeframe only helps that cause. The mood has shifted from True Love to be both funny and quite sad, as the story is driven not only by circumstance but by its characters' deep-set insecurities and star-crossed worldviews, and it isn't afraid to follow the pair towards a quietly surprising, poignant conclusion, and leave it open-ended, to boot. It's a brave and creative sophomore effort from an artist growing more and more into what could have been a modest icon in American cinema on par with what Alexander Payne would become later in the decade.
And the worst part of it is that nobody saw the thing. Two theaters? That's not enough to recoup expenses for a modern TV pilot, especially with an off-centered, small-scale movie like this. But at least Dogfight got multiple DVD rereleases, which can't be said for Savoca's most daring and thought provoking film, Household Saints. Stay tuned, Women's History Month.
Whereas True Love was brash and bawdy, Dogfight is enormously tender. Written by the unprolific Bob Comfort, the film uses the backdrop of Haight Ashbury at the cusp of Vietnam to explode a microcosmic romantic encounter to a hugely enveloping experience. The conceit of Eddie having to leave the next day allows for events to play out almost in real time, and each new locale they visit is more wonderful than the last but another inch closer to a devastating departure. The period reconstruction is unbelievable, as SF landmarks like City Lights Books rub shoulders with magical nooks and crannies, such as a basement filled with antique mechanical toys. The performances by Phoenix and Taylor are stunning, arguably the best of their careers (but with Phoenix that's a hard claim to make, as there's about four or five "best" performances to choose from), each actor totally inhabiting their roles and creating fascinating opposites. Savoca's direction lovingly draws out every detail from the sets, lighting and action without being overbearing, allowing the setting and story to take on a magic realist quality where anything can happen, and the magnified timeframe only helps that cause. The mood has shifted from True Love to be both funny and quite sad, as the story is driven not only by circumstance but by its characters' deep-set insecurities and star-crossed worldviews, and it isn't afraid to follow the pair towards a quietly surprising, poignant conclusion, and leave it open-ended, to boot. It's a brave and creative sophomore effort from an artist growing more and more into what could have been a modest icon in American cinema on par with what Alexander Payne would become later in the decade.
And the worst part of it is that nobody saw the thing. Two theaters? That's not enough to recoup expenses for a modern TV pilot, especially with an off-centered, small-scale movie like this. But at least Dogfight got multiple DVD rereleases, which can't be said for Savoca's most daring and thought provoking film, Household Saints. Stay tuned, Women's History Month.
~PNK