Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

Werner Herzog, who has made over fifty narrative and documentary films, has said that his narrative work informs his documentaries more than the other way around. But his technique in Bad Lieutenant is efficient in ways found only in the best documentary work; he weaves his lean story-telling style into a noir tale that gives a nod to the classics but creates its own contribution to the evolution of the genre.

Nicolas Cage plays Terence McDonagh, a tough cop whose descent begins with an attempt to help a convict. From the beginning, McDonagh has a cruel take on life. Standing on a metal railing, he and his partner (played with full cowboy intensity by Val Kilmer) negotiate a bet with cynical detachment as a man nearly drowns. Moments later, in a strange and telling character twist that confounds even his partner, he takes off his jacket and plunges into the murky water to help. The injury from this uncharacteristic act will lead straight to a world of painkiller addiction, cocaine and heroin abuse, predatory robbery and sex, addiction to sports gambling, and a duel with old-school gangsters.

Propelling the intense performance of Cage’s downward spiral is the masterful way that Herzog and his veteran cinematographer Peter Zeitlinger (Rescue Dawn, Grizzly Man, Little Dieter Needs to Fly, Wheel of Time, Invincible) shoot and construct the most important sequences of the film. Many key scenes are shot in very long takes, the camera repositioning as the action plays itself out, following Cage’s movements through space and time, making us forget that we haven’t seen an edit in many minutes. It’s an exhilarating technique that fits well with Herzog’s statement that he often prefers to rely on inspiration, not storyboards or previsualization.

There are fine and gritty performances in this film. Jennifer Coolidge is perfect as Cage’s alcoholic and disappointed stepmother; Brad Dourif brings just the right note of weariness to his take on the bookie; Kilmer is energetic as the combative sidekick; and Eva Mendes makes us believe that Cage would fall for her. Cage himself creates a descent into mental illness that is also physical and external. Stress emanates from his contorted back, recalling Klaus Kinski’s demented cripple Aguirre. And he pulls every bit of anguish possible from the tortured grimace that anticipates the pain of simply sitting in a chair.

Werner Herzog makes the most of whatever material he takes on, whether he is exploring the rare and remote areas of the planet (The White Diamond, Encounters at the End of the World), exploring faith and loss of it (Wheel of Time, Aguirre, Wrath of God ), turning reality into the surreal (Lessons of Darkness), or digging deeply into damaged souls (Fitzcarraldo, The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser). Bad Lieutenant is a fine addition to the dark and strangely humorous world he has documented and manufactured for almost fifty years.

                                    Thomas W. Campbell