by Frank Calvillo
Some movie pitches were born winners, plain and simple. The idea of putting Channing Tatum on a stage and having him take off his clothes was always destined to be box office gold thanks to the actor’s legions of female fans.
From what I gather, in Magic Mike XXL, Tatum and some of the gang from the original 2012 film are travelling to prove they’re the best in the business. On the way, the guys encounter a variety of incorrigible females, including a stripper played by Amber Heard, whom Mike instantly falls for.
I’ve always been intrigued by Amber Heard and what she’s been able to bring to the roles she takes on. Though the quality of them might waver from film to film, there’s always a ferociousness Heard infuses in her characters, regardless of who they are or what film they’re in.
Though it doesn’t seem to be so upon first glance, the same can definitely be said regarding the actress’ role in 2008’s The Informers.
The dark indie drama began life as a book of short stories by novelist Bret Easton Ellis, as both a follow-up to the controversial American Psycho and, by his own admission, as a means of fulfilling a publishing contract. The stories within The Informers were each told from the point of view of various disillusioned citizens from Los Angeles and featured characters from all walks of life including a rock star, a studio mogul, a newscaster and even a vampire (brilliant story which sadly didn’t make it past the script stage). With slight links to other stories within the book, The Informers was an examination of the dark side of life in the city of angels as seen through they eyes of those who live there.
The journey to the screen for Ellis’ book was fraught with every kind of moviemaking road block there is. From the switching of directors, to rewrites and reshoots, arguments on the set and more than a few cuts of the film, The Informers went through numerous trials and transformations in an effort to tell the various stories of a group of L.A. denizens in the early 1980s.
There’s the studio mogul (Billy Bob Thornton) trying to reconcile with his estranged wife (Kim Basinger), while still carrying on with his mistress (Winona Ryder). Their drug dealer son (Jon Foster) enamoured with his beautiful girlfriend (Heard) even if she’s only enamoured with herself and a visiting rock star (Mel Raido). The doorman of an upscale condo (Brad Renfro — in his final role) deals with the arrival of his shady uncle (Mickey Rourke), in town for truly heinous reasons. Various other characters join these interlocking sets of stories which make up The Informers and a truly unforgettable view of a Los Angeles rarely seen on film is the result.
Though I may have said it in past entries of this column, I feel it must be stressed now more than ever that this film is NOT for everybody. The characters range from unlikable to monstrous, with the occasional side trip to pathetic. Likewise, many of their actions are despicable and immoral, to say the least, though greatly toned down from the book.
And yet there’s something about watching this group of people, most of whom want for nothing, on screen. These are characters who merely exist. They lunch at the upscale restaurants, sip cocktails by the pool, watch MTV in their penthouses, attend the parties and concerts, yet they get nothing back from the lives they lead.
It is indeed fascinating to watch these people on screen and in most ways, The Informers resembles a 1980s-set Greek tragedy with most of these characters belonging to at least one of three different kinds of hell. First, there are those who know they’re in hell and wish to escape, yet for whatever reason, can’t. Secondly, there are those who likewise know they’re in hell, yet don’t wish to escape it. Finally, there are those so deluded, they’ve got no idea they’re in hell at all.
All of this is helped tremendously by a collection of impressive performances. Thornton, Ryder and Rourke collectively deliver, while Foster, ostensibly the film’s lead, admirably steps up to the plate. The highlights, though, are Basinger (her confrontation with Thornton is some of the best latter-day work of her career) and Heard who, though penciled in as the bimbo type early on, closes the film in a tragic, yet strangely touching scene signifying so much about that time and place.
It also helps that The Informers is a gorgeous film to look at. The film’s budget was clearly on the higher end of the indie movie scale and it more than shows in ways beyond its name cast. There’s almost a glossy finish over the film, which makes it appear as both an artifact and a live entity. Everything from the costumes to the cinematography gives The Informers a sheen which helps to look at the characters’ Los Angeles as a truly alien world. Ellis’ work has always focused on the surface of things which appear beautiful, yet are anything but on the inside, and while the film differs greatly from its source material, visually, The Informers nails the look and feel of the world Ellis crafted better than any other film adaptation to date.
To say that The Informers wasn’t well-received would be making the situation sound better than it was. In truth, the film was slaughtered upon its Sundance premiere, trashed by critics, ignored by audiences upon its limited release and caused the bankruptcy of the production company which had produced it. None of this came as much of a surprise since Ellis has made a career out of writing anti-heroes, which simultaneously fascinate and repulse the public.
The author shares writing credit on the film version of The Informers (the first time he’s participated in one of his adaptations), yet his sprawling original script, which was praised for its mixture of humor and drama, was sadly whittled down to the 98 minute version released (though a reportedly 2-hour version exists, which supposedly ties up loose ends). Ellis doesn’t have much praise for the film and what became of his stories, and I must say, I agree with many of his criticisms. Yet the original intent of The Informers, the portrait of a group of eternally tragic figures trapped in an inferno-like Los Angeles of the 1980s, remains as frightening and telling as ever.
