We saw Strange Days for the first time last week at the historic Paramount. Interesting flick, especially with the introductory context provided by our curator: this was the director Kathryn Bigelow’s “statement” project (her reward for the commercial success of the Keanu Reeves vehicle “Point Break”) which she filmed from a script co-written by James Cameron in the aftermath of the tumultuous Rodney King riots. A moment not unlike the one we’re in today with Gestapo-style ICE raids and a totalitarian U.S. administration. Spoilers ahead… c’mon, this movie’s THREE decades old.
This movie was buoyed by strong lead performances, a whiff of that immersive near-future Blade Runner vibe, Fiennes’ convincing hangdog portrayal of a man who’s lost his greatest love, and some vivid, energetic cinematography, but burdened by (as happens more often than not with statement films, and Hollywood in general tbh) a script with some great ideas and headscratching decisions. Chief among them was the choice to bifurcate the movie’s villainy between Max, the hero’s sidekick and (bonus!) a sadistic snuff-filming serial killer, and two racist cops who get top-notch casting (William Fichtner and the inimitable Vincent D’Onofrio) but very little screen time. With a 2 hour 25 minute running time and some difficult scenes of abusive violence, this movie cries out for streamlining, plus our hero Nero struggles Hamlet-style with deciding what to do with his damning evidence (he’s an ex-cop, for God’s sake) and the whole Max sideline requires a lengthy “I’ve been the serial killer all along and I’ve been schtupping your ex” dialog. To add insult to injury, that dialog is followed by the puzzling choice to have Nero’s ex Faith (who’s been loyal to a third character for two hours) betray Max (surprise lover and serial killer) during his long-winded confession, all in order to save Nero, which is supported by very little before the event and absolutely nothing after – a character arc off the edge of the earth, or perhaps to the cutting room floor, and a waste of some good work by Juliette Lewis as Faith.
In my humble opinion, this should’ve simply pitted the heartsore hero and his friends against two serial killer cops (a two-headed serial killer partnership would be novel, and the sender-receiver setup of the movie’s telepresence tech would fit that nicely) and whatever corrupt accompanying police corruption they find in the LAPD. Props to Michael Wincott, who does a terrific job as the red herring, a slimy criminal music promoter who’s got claws into Nero’s confused ex Faith… a subplot that is interesting and features its own rich hierarchy of henchmen, all for naught.
