09.21.07 5:00 AM CDT
• Movies
• Josh Robertson
In Cruising, Al Pacino plays an undercover cop who must delve into New York’s gay leather bar subculture to solve a case of serial killings. Directed by William Friedkin, the film sparked protest and all that when it was released in 1980. For details, here’s a piece from Slate.Warner Home Video has just released Cruising on DVD, we gave it a watch—and we must admit, we can’t see what the fuss was all about. The film does not strike us as remotely anti-gay, nor does it judge harshly the specific subculture it depicts. Not long ago, we lived on Christopher Street in the West Village, and saw a thing or two that suggests, 20 years and an AIDS epidemic later, that scene hasn’t left us. But anecdotal evidence aside, our grasp of gay culture and subcultures is far from authoritative, so we’ll just say that the film’s settings and characterizations seemed plausible to us.
Debating political correctness, pondering whether a group is being defamed and should take offense at a piece of art, is boring anyway. The First Amendment is our Lord’s Prayer, and we don’t have a lot of time for people who’d suppress art simply because they don’t like it. What about the art? Is Cruising a good movie? Is it worth seeing? As gritty cop dramas go, it’s middle-of-the-road. From the writing to the acting, Cruising certainly can’t hold a candle to Pacino’s other undercover movie, Serpico. Detective Frank Serpico was hypnotic presence, a maverick; Detective Steve Burns is more of a blank slate, simply a good cop asked to take a strange assignment. We never learn a lot about Burns, all we know is that he is Not Gay and he’s pretending to be Gay, and that’s, you know, weird. The plot and detective work are by-the-book as well, and at times it feels like an episode of Columbo wearing assless chaps. But there’s the rub—those assless chaps. Cruising is fine spectacle and entertainment despite its dramatic shortcomings. For Christ’s sake, it’s Michael Corleone dancing with men, tied up naked, menaced by a giant black dude wearing a jockstrap and a cowboy hat—how could we not watch?
The images are what makes the film, not the dialogue. It might be a testament to Friedkin’s discretion that we never see Burns’s fellow officers ribbing him for “getting to the bottom of the case,” no “Hey boys, here comes Burns, watch your nightsticks” frat-guy talk. After taking part in an overly rough interrogation, Burns tries to tell his boss (Paul Sorvino) he wants out. For a tough city cop, Captain Edelson’s take on the nature of homosexuality is so paternal and sensitive (and sanitized—more Columbo than assless chaps) that we couldn’t help but crack a grin:
DET. STEVE BURNS (Pacino): I didn’t come on this job to shitcan some guy just because he’s gay.
CAPT. EDELSON (Sorvino): You’re gonna come into days where you have to collar a dozen guys like that. Scared, weird little guys who don’t know why they have to do what they do. It isn’t their fault, it isn’t your fault, it’s the job.
BURNS: I can’t do the job. I don’t think I can do the job, captain. I don’t think I can handle it. That’s all. I don’t know, it’s just … things happenin’ to me, you know? I don’t know that I can handle it. I want you to know that it’s not because I’m afraid or anything. There’s just stuff going down and I don’t think I can deal with it.
EDELSON: I need you. You’re my partner and you can’t let me down. We’re up to our ass in this, and I’m counting on you.
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