“I Have a Jest to Execute, that I Cannot Manage Alone”: Peter Bogdanovich’s Saint Jack and They All Laughed ~ What'cha Reading?

“I Have a Jest to Execute, that I Cannot Manage Alone”: Peter Bogdanovich’s Saint Jack and They All Laughed

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Peter BogdanovichWhat brought Hollywood traditionalist Peter Bogdanovich, low-budget drive-in messiah Roger Corman, experimental European cinematographer Robby Muller, method acting Cassavetes regular Ben Gazzara, classically trained British actor Denholm Elliot, acclaimed expatriate novelist Paul Theroux, and scoundrel Playboy publisher Hugh Hefner together? To make the film Saint Jack, no mere commercial enterprise; history has shown nothing else like the one-two punch of Bogdanovich and Mueller’s richly visual cinematic arabesques, the Singapore-based Saint Jack of 1979 and Manhattan-based They All Laughed of 1981.

It is only cosmic justice that the all-but-forgotten Saint Jack is finally out in a lovely blu-ray (dvd as well) release from Scorpion Releasing, stocked with extras and finally presenting this near-forgotten, major film in high-definition and its proper aspect ratio.  Bogdanovich shot the film entirely in Singapore in secret under the working title Jack of Hearts, as any adaptation of  Theroux’s novel Saint Jack, a story of pimps and prostitution, was sure to be banned (and Saint Jack ultimately was, for 30 years!)

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While Bogdanovich is an auteur in every sense of the word, the success of both these two masterpieces are largely in their pluralistic, communal nature; he was enthusiastic in this period to utilize local resources, taking suggestions from his adventurous Dutch cinematographer (who has worked with Wim Wenders and Jim Jarmusch), his actors, and the  populations of both Singapore and Manhattan, using many non-professionals in featured roles.

Saint Jack bears a resemblance to the classic Hollywood expatriate melodrama, such as Casablanca, with its noble loser protagonist and striking, exotic milieu.  But Jack is intensely complex and unique (while unflashy) in its staging and photography, and tackles complex themes of male friendship, regret and optimism, and  sexual honor, as brilliantly as I’ve ever seen. Yet the film, like its companion piece Laughed, is unscored (you can always tell on which films Bogdanovich had final cut  by their lack of a traditional music score) and unrushed, never telling you when or how to feel.  Bogdanovich the filmmaker is entirely and disarmingly relaxed here, and one can only wonder where he (and co-conspirator Muller) would have gone next if tragedy did not strike after the wrap of Laughed, when costar (and Bogdanovich’s love) Dororthy Stratten was murdered, sidelining Bogdanovich for several years.

Bogdanovich’s ceaseless strengths as a filmmaker (and they are mighty ones, if not attention-getting) are his empathy and interest in exploring community, his genuine respect and love for women (very much at odds with most of his 1970s men’s club filmmaking brethren), and his disinterest in violence, thundering hooves and gunplay.  While both films are now historic documents, detailing a Singapore and Manhattan that no longer exist, the fresh, uncooked photography utilized by Bogdanovich and Mueller makes both feel like everything is happening now, in the moment, and we are there.  In Jack and Laughed, for four hours of total cinema unlike any other, Bogdanovich proves a master of creating a unique, breathing environment filled with charismatic and memorable characters and settings.

Saint Jack and They All Laughed are simultaneously light and serious, with “plot” a secondary concern; the films are endlessly suggestive rather than explicit, and as voyeuristic as the best De Palma, but not stalkerish and nihilistic; Boganovich is in love with topography, women and slightly damaged guys who are loyal and honorable.  Filled with free-spirited characters, who are never far from personal disaster, both works play subtle games of lost and found, and can seem so gracefully impertinent (plot developments seem largely beside the point). As they are energetically unconcerned with traditional narrative they can play as aimless if you are feeling uncharitable. But, no, the films are poetry, and the characters no chess pieces — he cares about them, and they are real enough you would hope they exist in real life—they will stay with you long after the films end.  Both Jack and Laughed capture an “ephemeral reality” that is gone as soon as the credits roll and the filmmakers thank the people of the islands they filled on.

With Saint Jack and They All Laughed, Bogdanovich and Muller as a team were on their way to carving out an identity of the masters of naturalistic-genre filmmaking; there is a generosity in spirit and a sense of anarchy that never loses the thread because of Bogdanovich’s classic storytelling instincts, sharply tuned in his earlier Hollywood successes Last Picture Show Paper Moon and What’s Up, Doc?.  One wonders if his commercially unsuccessful but wildly underrated Nickelodeon, which details the first renegade silent filmmakers on the west coast plying their trade, inspired him, as it was his last studio film before these two independents; in Jack and Laughed Bogdanovich shows a fresh pirate anything-goes spirit that wasn’t evident in his earlier work, and which really has shown up since only in the free-spirited (but stagebound by design)  Noises Off — these films are about emotional ambiguities and a straightforward narrative line would not serve them well.  Bogdanovich and Muller shoot locations that have never been shot, whether the legendarily carnal Bugis Street in Singapore or Times Square in Manhattan, in such a free, open way, and it all cuts together wonderfully; Saint Jack is a film about brothels and  colonialism and the Vietnam war, but it is ultimately a work of genius about love, decency and regret.  They All Laughed is about private eyes employed by untrusting husbands, and is also ultimately a work of genius about love, decency, and regret.

In their discreet ways, these perfectly realized films are two of the most passionate films I’ve ever seen, witty arabesques about the joy and tragic fragility of life. They took nerve and talent, and took chances (that did not pay off in initial releases), and deserve every bit of late recognition they have been receiving. A great book detailing this oddball production was written about a decade ago by Ben Slater, a Singapore resident and film scholar who interviewed all the major players, local and international, involved in the Singapore shoot, a location where there was no local film industry; Jack still is the only U.S. film shot entirely in Singapore. Slater currently sells copies of the impressive book directly; if you’re interested, contact him at gonetopersia@gmail.com.  Just last year, Bill Teck did similar righteous work bringing the story of the making of They All Laughed to life in his intimate documentary One Day Since Yesterday, available from Warner Archives on DVD.  Scorpion Releasing has done right in its release of Jack; Laughed received a quality DVD release a decade ago, and is overdue for a Blu-Ray release of its own. To paraphrase the Bard again, “shaping fantasies” such as Jack and Laughed apprehend something more than “cool reason” could ever comprehend. Give them a chance.

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About Author

James Kenney reviews film for What’cha Reading? and is an editor and film reviewer at QueensFreePress. He writes fiction for Hooked, an iPad application featured on TechCrunch, Fast Company, Business Insider and CNNMoney, won a New York Foundation of the Arts fellowship for his screenplay Secret Vienna, and has a pilot, The Whip, in development at Spike TV. He is an English Lecturer at Queensborough Community College as well as Bronx Community College, and lives in Queens New York with his wife and two children. You can follow James on twitter @jfkenney and check out more of his reviews on http://www.queensfreepress.com/author/jkenney/

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