More Money More Problems: Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights as a Cultural Critique of a Romanticized Decade
“Maurice!” Jack exclaims as he exits his car with Amber, the camera following right along. “Jackie Jack!” Maurice yells, greeting the two with open arms while hurrying them through the 70s style nightclub, guiding them to their table. The Emotion’s hit “Best Of My Love” plays as Maurice shouts over the music, calling staff to wait on the couple as he struts through the lively crowd of customers. Tracking him, the camera’s wide-angle brings us deeper into the club, the fluorescent lights beaming at all angles. “Hey hey!” He shouts as he gets to the dancefloor, meeting a group with enthusiastic high fives. The camera circulates on them dancing and chatting, leaving the friends and panning to a waiter who carries us to Amber and Jack’s table. As the waiter walks out of frame, Rollergirl takes his place, skating over to the couple to briefly talk, then continues on her way. As she skates out of frame through the lights of the dance floor, the camera’s focus shifts to a closer shot of the young busboy Eddie Adams as he comes into the light. We zoom in close on his face, then cutting to Jack noticing him from his table. Cutting between the two close-ups of the men, their line of vision is emphasized through a continuous zoom in. The music begins to shift as Eddie looks away, breaking the gaze and returning to work as the gears in Jack’s head as he sits in the club begin to turn.
Paul Thomas Anderson’s 1997 film Boogie Nights chronicles the rise and decline of the adult film industry throughout the late seventies and early eighties by focusing on an interconnected cast of characters, centering around the transformation of the young Eddie Adams into successful film star Dirk Diggler through his roles in Jack Horner’s “exotic pictures.” Dirk rises to stardom in the 70s, finding a surrogate family in Jack and fellow actresses Amber Waves and Rollergirl until his introduction to cocaine in the early 80s causes his subsequent fall from grace. Anderson chronicles the evolution of the pornography industry throughout the late seventies and early eighties, using the shift from film to video and Dirk’s journey from the top to the bottom as a cultural critique of the larger shift towards consumerism and extreme excess which emerged as a result of the end of the economic recession of the seventies, thus emphasizing the dangers of materialism and greed which defined the financial mentality of the eighties. Anderson’s characterization of Dirk as an embodiment of generational fantasies of wealth and success throughout the film solidifies this claim, as his journey to the top during the Me generation and fall to the bottom in the decade of excess serves as a warning to idealistic viewers that the cultural myth of success equating to fulfillment and happiness is not always the case. Anderson is able to communicate all this through his masterful directing and writing of scenes, all of which draw in his audience both visually and emotionally, connecting them to the film and placing them within the cinematic world he creates.
The opening scene of Boogie Nights, set to the hit Best of My Love by The Emotions, immediately demands the attention of the viewer, transporting the audience to 1977 as the camera tracks through California’s San Fernando Valley where disco is king, business is booming, and nobody's want to become somebody's. Through the use of a four-minute steadicam long take, Anderson establishes the 70s as carefree, exciting, and liberated; while perhaps a bit simplistic of a depiction of the decade, Anderson calls upon the 90s nostalgia for the time of sexual revolution in a world where characters “trade sexual partners with easy frequency, free from guilt of fear of AIDS'' (Sickels). His representation of the “Me generation” through the immersion of the viewer through his use of a wide-angle emphasizes the explosion of new music and trends, as well as a new generation of people who began trying to perfect themselves instead of the world around them, as had been seen in the 1960’s. The scene directly introduces the characters and their interconnectedness, their personalities reflecting the success of the industry and the ideals of the decade. This establishment of the decade through the mise-en-scene of the Hot Traxx night club illustrates to the audience that this is not a critique of the 70s or the pornography industry, but rather an exploration into what this age of freedom would lead to in the following decades; “There had to be punishment for all that pursuit of pleasure” (Anderson).
When contextualizing Boogie Nights, it is important to understand why Anderson uses the porn industry to communicate his critique. In the context of the film's release in the late 90s, the romanticization of the 70s had reappeared, along with a new “popular fascination with porn” as a result of the growing internet culture (Sickels). In his essay “1970s Disco Daze: Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights and the Last Golden Age of Irresponsibility” Robert Sickel writes, “What for a decade and a half was viewed as ineffably sordid is now beginning to be seen as rather glamorous” (50). The industry encapsulated how someone could attain fame, as well as the decades obsession with “making it” (Sickels). This is emphasized by Jack’s scouting of Eddie while he was working at a nightclub, in which he had been charging customers to take a look at his “Mr. Torpedo Area,'' as Jack humorously refers to it. Porn offered success and notability to those who perhaps had no other way of attaining it; “Everybodys got one special thing,” Eddie remarks early in the film, despite his parents' lack of faith given his inability to finish school. And perhaps most literally, porn is the ultimate form of commodification, as human bodies become the commodity. As Stephan Wilkinson explains in his book Objectification, Exploitation, & Commodification, “To commodify is to treat as a commodity which is not a (proper) commodity” (Wilkinson). The bodies of the characters are treated as objects in this way, as their identities rest in turn with their physicality through their work. It is in this cultural context that Anderson can use the industry's shift from film to video to mirror the cultural shift from the moral laxity of the 70s to the intense financial mentality that appeared in the 80s, and the destruction that came with it.
In comparison to film, video was introduced in 1980 as a result of its monetary capability, immediately marked as a representation of the new financial mentality that was to come. Early in the film, we are made aware of Jack’s desire to make films that are emotional and meaningful; while he may be directing adult pictures, he has deeper aspirations to create films that hold people's interest through their story, rather than simply serve one purpose. In contrast to this mindset, video allowed movies to be made whenever and wherever, decreasing the artistic credibility of the craft. This shift in ideals is made even more apparent through Anderson’s choice to depict Jack’s film investors as older, stuck up men in business suits as they excitedly communicate the coming shift in terms of how much money that would be making. Sickels quotes Anderson writing, “Film… translates into a more focused product. Video brought a new mentality … At a certain point there was nothing romantic going on, nothing remotely emotional….” The differentiation between film and video is indicative of the different consumer culture of the new decade, as people chose accessibility and financial capability over more meaningful, “artistic” film as Jack would attribute them. Where the carefree, liberated 70s are characterized by the artistic and emotional film, the cutthroat, superfluous financial mentality of the 80s is reflected by the equally impersonal and passionless video. The distinction created between these two materials in the film as well as the characters who are in favor of either (Jack being more laidback versus the Wall Street emulating investors) represents the difference between the culture of the 70s and the 80s, and an obsession with appearances and monetary gain over fulfillment.
When we are first introduced to Dirk, he is a busboy working in the club of the opening scene of the film. Jack approaches him about his industry, seeing potential in the young man. When Dirk joins Jack in his endeavors, he is a bright-eyed newcomer, eager to impress with his boyish charm and hopeful perspective. “I’m gonna be something, I am!” He exclaims to his mother early in the film as she screams about his stupidity before he runs away; his desperation to succeed results in his sweet disposition in the first part of the film. He finds success through films, his rise to the top illustrated through a brightly colored montage that showcases his new home and car which is, uncoincidentally, the same car that had appeared on a poster with the text “American Dream” in his bedroom. This first part of the film paints Dirk as an embodiment of the spirit of the 70s, and even further an embodiment of the American culture's definition of success with his cars, home, fame, and wealth. It is not until the ushering of the new decade, 1980, that we see Dirk’s fall from grace, characterized by his drug-fueled spiral into self-righteousness and obsession. The New Year's Eve party is perhaps one of the most important scenes of the film; with this shift in years comes a dramatic shift in the tone of the film. What had been a bright, aesthetically pleasing Act 1 turns to a dramatic, darker Act 2 with the introduction of cocaine to Dirk, the transition from film to video for Jack, and Little Bill’s murder-suicide foreshadowing the loss to come. With a (quite literal) boom, the 1980s are introduced.
Following his introduction to cocaine on New Years, Dirk begins to slowly dissolve from sweet boy to egotistical star. His change in character as a result is so apparent that it beings to be noticed by those around him, culminating in the firing of him by Jack in an intense scene where emotions run high as the cocaine-addicted Diggler can no longer deliver the way he used to, thus sending him into a spiral that is almost painful for the audience to be a witness to. In a drug-fueled rampage of desperation and anger, Dirk demands they start shooting the scene; “I’m ready now, it's gotta be now” he yells, exasperated. Jack shakes it off, telling him 20 minutes. Dirk again demands they start, his frustration growing as he begins to pick a fight with the cast. There is a sense of ironic humor as he shouts, “You're not even an actor man … I’m a real fucking actor!” as the audience sees his inflated (and coke-fueled) ego. The confrontation escalates when Jack comments on Dirk’s look, saying he doesn't look good. Unable to take criticism of his appearance, Dirk flys off the handle, exploding into an expletive-filled monologue, screaming with his entire body, “Everybody get ready fucking now!” Jack fires him, Dirk runs off, and the crew stands shocked at what they just witnessed.
It is in this scene that Dirk is seen as the embodiment of the “1980s greed and egotism” (Sickels). He no longer cares about anything besides himself, which is made even more apparent when he yells at Amber, “You're not my mom!” His need for success has overpowered his need for relationships, as his entire identity has become centered around what Katie Jane Parkes refers to in her essay “Falling Victim to Consumer Culture: The Commodification of Bodies in “Smart” Films” as his “commodified subjecthood”. She continues, explaining that as the individual falls victim to consumer culture, “their own distorted identities become commodified objects.” Dirk’s “subjecthood” rests in his identity as a pornstar and how this makes him appear to others; when he is unable to fulfill this role, we see his act crumble. Materialism consumes him, which is further emphasized by his addiction to cocaine, a drug that has been both “romanticized and demonized” by the media in the 80s (Sickels).
It is only after Dirk comes to the painful realization of his error during a tension-filled drug deal scene that he returns to Jack, begging for forgiveness. During a drug deal gone wrong, the camera shows Dirk’s realization that he has hit rock bottom, attempting to pass off baking soda for cocaine in an insane man's home. Film reviewer Naomi Fly writes, “During this audaciously long shot… his expression shifts from a slight smile to a barely perceptible frown… But part of the magic of Anderson’s movie is that its brutality is never presented without sympathy’s balm. Every time I watch Dirk’s face, I feel ... that I understand him completely.” In this instance, the audience's ability to empathize with Dirk is powerful and important for the development of the narrative. Seeing his regret and realization so fully expressed directly on camera makes it all the more real and painful; the audience has watched him evolve from a young boy with an unsupportive family to a successful actor surrounded by friends, making his plummet to the extreme bottom and loss of relations with Jack and Amber feel all the more profoundly sad. Despite his actions and screw ups, we empathize with Dirk, making this shot all the more impactful. This point serves as a moment of realization for Dirk, as he has let his relationships dissolve in favor of money and drugs. Anderson’s shot emphasizes this, and the destruction caused by his adoption of the 80s consumer mentality of excess in both his use of cocaine and need to be a star in all aspects of life.
The final steadicam shot of the film mirrors the opening one, acting as an ending to the narrative. The camera guides us through Jack’s home as we hear him interact with Maurice and Rollergirl, their dialogue mimicking that of a family as he asks her to clean her room and colloquially chats with Maurice about his cooking. Balance has been restored to the group, as they begin making films the way they want instead of in the sole interest of money. Dirk has returned to his “family”, reclaiming his commodified subjecthood with a new sense of confidence and drive as illustrated in the very last shot of the film. This resolution brings us back to the carefree attitude that had been established in the opening shot, creating a full circle moment of closure for both the audience and characters. It is in this scene we see the rejection of the 80s mentality, and a return to that of the 70s we were first introduced to in the opening of the film, resulting in the happiness and genuine fulfillment of the characters.
Through Anderson’s use of a narrative arc in the film, he is able to make a larger critique of the time in which his film is set. While the first section of his film is brightly colored and lively, the shift in the second half of the film emphasizes the change in tone and what is to come mimicking the larger shift in American consumerism and culture. This allows Anderson to comment on the negative aspects of the 80s through its comparison to the 70s, making it clear that he is not supporting the cultural myth of success and money equating to happiness, as it is only when the characters regain their relationships amongst each other that they regain their fulfillment and passion. While his film is set in the past decade, it communicates a warning to viewers of any time, showing the destruction disregarding those around you in favor of material and excess can cause.