the Directors: William Friedkin

There’s an unevenness to William Friedkin’s career that I find fascinating. By his own admission, the man has made some pretty bad films. But he’s also responsible for some of the most noted classics in film history. It’s such a bold dichotomy of great vs. crap that I can’t help but be intrigued.

As of late, Friedkin has gone through a kind of impromptu transformation, redefining his career with daring pictures that stay ingrained in your mind, for better or worse.

In addition to his work on screen, Friedkin has always been frank about discussing his own career. He’s quick to point out his failures, his successes, and his lasting frustrations. I respect the hell out of his frankness, which, thankfully, is a trait that manages to bleed into much of his work.

Good Times (1967)

I feel it’s appropriate to begin my analysis of Friedkin’s first film with a disclaimer. For better or worse, William Friedkin is a man who tells the truth. He’s honest about his successes, and candid about his filmic misfires. For example, he openly discloses that the only reason he made his first few films was to get familiar with the filmmaking process. He didn’t choose to make Good Times, he says, certain people who liked his early documentaries did.

My point is, while Good Times is a forgettable Sonny and Cher-starring romp that you’re likely to forget the second it’s over, that’s mainly because the people behind it weren’t, well, fully behind it. (For the record, the movie is about the famed couple trying to find the proper material that will allow them to break into the film business.) I’m not making excuses for Good Times, but it’s an experiment by a guy who wanted to try something new. I appreciate the effort, but, sadly, not much else. D

The Birthday Party (1968)

Moving swiftly into the world of heavy drama, Friedkin’s next film was an adaptation of a Harold Pinter play about a man who is literally haunted by his past. In the film, boarding house resident, Stanley (Robert Shaw) is visited by two guys who, for reasons unknown, fuck with Stanley endlessly. The two men tell Stanley’s landlord that they would like to help plan Stanley’s birthday party, even though it isn’t his birthday. The modest party, which takes up much of the film’s running time, is a perpetual spiral into one man’s inner madness. We have no idea why these two men are so hell bent on ruining Stanley’s life, but ruin it do they ever.

Robert Shaw, delivering a bravado performance of sheer torment, carries the film singlehandedly. Sure, there are parts of the movie that lag, but the mystery surrounding its central storyline is compelling. Think of The Birthday Party as a sort of lesser-accomplished Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf. B-

The Night They Raided Minsky’s (1968)

The Night They Raided Minsky’s is the type of film that is simply too dull to provoke anything other than indifference. It tells the story of an innocent Amish girl who moves to New York City right as burlesque dancing is taking off. Despite her admitted lack of talent, the girl gets a job at Minsky’s Burlesque club, and a love triangle soon emerges between her and two men from the show (including a monotonous Jason Robards).

Let me put it this way, after Friedkin was shown a rough cut of the film, he famously said it was “the biggest piece of crap I’d ever worked on.” Hard to disagree. D

The Boys in the Band (1970)

The Boys in the Band is a great example of a film I don’t necessarily like, but respect the hell out of. The film was based on an off-Broadway play about a group of gay men who assemble in a New York loft to celebrate one of their birthdays. As the night progresses and the alcohol consumption increases, tempers flare and friendships are tested. Guilt, resentment and judgment own the night.

Now, at nearly two hours, The Boys in the Band feels long. It’s slow, nearly methodical pace takes its time getting to the point, which is a serious test on our attention span. However, it is important to note that this film did what very few others had the audacity to do at the time, it openly discussed homosexuality in America. In fact, if nothing else, The Boys in the Band is still remembered as a pioneer of the gay cinema movement, which I respect dearly. It provoked controversy, ignored taboos and asked tough questions. I’ll let you be the judge as it if the film is worthy or not, but its cause is definitely essential. B-

The French Connection (1971)

Two main questions surround William Friedkin’s career, the first being: where the hell did The French Connection come from? How did the guy who made four seemingly forgotten films manage to create a Best Picture-winning crime masterpiece? The answer? Passion and determination.

The film tells the mostly true story of two New York Narcotics Detectives and their obsession at solving a case involving a huge import of heroin. At the center of the film is Gene Hackman, who plays the vengeful Popeye Doyle with enough fury to last an entire career. Rewatching this film, it’s obvious that Hackman was going for broke. He was on the cusp of breaking it big as an actor, and damn if The French Connection wasn’t a huge risk that paid off.

At the time, Friedkin was a young filmmaker angry with the system. He’d produced a series of films to various (if not nonexistent) degrees of success, and with The French Connection, he let all of his frustrations boil over. The film is dark, gritty, and raw. Friedkin shot much of the movie on the fly, without permits or permission. He didn’t have much more than a camera, a vision, and a small group of dedicated believers. And, sometimes, I suppose that’s all you need. A+

The Exorcist (1973)

Following his Oscar-winning success of The French Connection, Friedkin found himself able to make any film he wanted. So, leave it to a guy as ballsy as Friedkin to attempt to tackle a genre that was completely new to him.

The result speaks for itself, as The Exorcist is one of the defining horror films of cinematic history. With am unwavering dedication to realism, Friedkin crafted a universally terrifying film that still works (in Every. Single. Way.) to this day. One of the best compliments I can pay an older movie is that it doesn’t feel dated all these years later. Don’t get me wrong, The Exorcist looks like it was made in the early ‘70s, but it certainly doesn’t feel that way. The film hasn’t dated one bit: it haunts and captivates just as much now as I’m sure it did then. It’s funny, the two films Friedkin is remembered for most were made back-to-back, which is significant because they are so incredibly different. It’s hard to pick a favorite, but for me, The Exorcist always ranks highest among Friedkin’s body of it. Simply put, it is his masterpiece. A+

Sorcerer (1977)

In keeping with his status as one of the most audacious filmmakers of the time, Friedkin followed up his two hits with a remake of a film that is widely considered one of the best ever made. Now, if I may be so bold, I actually prefer the episodic structure of Friedkin’s film to the more expansive narrative of The Wages of Fear. Make no mistake, Henri-Georges Clouzot made the better film, but Sorcerer definitely sits well against it.

Now, Friedkin’s film was criminally ignored upon its release, and remains an overlooked marvel to this day. What went wrong? It had the great misfortune of being released just one week before a little film called Star Wars. It’s a shame that Sorcerer fell so deeply in the George Lucas’ shadow, as it ranks among the finest tales of obsession Friedkin has ever crafted. A-

The Brink’s Job (1978)

If the first question surrounding Friedkin’s career ponders where The French Connection came from, the second would be – what the hell happened to William Friedkin’s career?

After creating three marvelous films (one of which, admittedly, nobody saw) Friedkin has since fallen into hit or miss obscurity. From here on out, some of his films work (and work damn well) while others are forgettable bores or laughable duds.

The Brink’s Job tells the true story of the men who successfully robbed the Brink’s Building in Boston in 1950. With a great cast including Peter Falk, Peter Boyle, Warren Oates and Paul Sorvino, The Brink’s Job manages to stand out slightly better than some of the Friedkin’s lesser films, but it’s certainly nothing to flip over. C

Cruising (1980)

One of the most obvious suggestions of Friedkin as a pioneering provocateur is the fact that he was able to get Cruising made in 1980. The film is about an undercover cop (Al Pacino, in one of his best, most overlooked performances) trying to find a serial murderer of gay men. Because the murderer tracks S&M, leather-clad gay bars for his victims, Pacino is forced to cruise the same establishments in hopes of finding him.

I watched Cruising for the first time last year, and kept asking Wait, they actually did that? In short, this is a risky movie that disregards social convention and pushes everything to the limit. Upon its release it was incorrectly labeled as homophobic, which is frankly nonsense. The movie is in no way a critique of homosexuality, but rather another ingenious depiction of obsession through Friedkin’s eyes. If anything, I respect it for depicting a world I knew nothing about, with such remorseless candor. A-

Deal of the Century (1983)

Sadly, this one is pretty much a convoluted mess from start to finish. Something about a new fighter warplane that can pilot itself, and how Chevy Chase’s arms dealer wins a contract to sell millions worth of the planes. Gregory Hines shows up as Chase’s friend who is also suffering a religious crisis. And then there’s Sigourney Weaver, as the widow of the man who originally owned the contract Chase won.

So, yeah, Deal of the Century is a laughably over complicated film that aims for satire, but peaks (at best) at utter indifference. I watched it once on cable and haven’t the slightest desire to revisit it. D-

To Live and Die in L.A. (1985)

To Live and Die in L.A. might be the most polarizing film of Friedkin’s career. Seriously, the fan base for this crime saga is filled with crazily enthusiastic, die hard fans. The people who love this film, love this film. The people who don’t like it simply disregard it as a French Connection knock off.

Me? I dig it. I dig the synthesized music, the ridiculous outfits, the big hair (really, this is one of the most ‘80s-feeling movies ever made), and, moreover, I dig the unpredictability of William Friedkin at his best. The film tells the story of a rogue cop determined to find the money counterfeiter who killed his partner. And within any given scene, it’s nearly impossible to predict how it’s all going to end. A fascinating introductory sequence (in which Friedkin hired actual counterfeiters to consult on the process of creating fake money), a thrilling chase scene and one hell of a shocking conclusion all help make for one damn fine cop thriller. A-

Rampage (1987)

In Rampage, a lawyer (Michael Biehn) helps catch a serial killer who invades peoples’ homes and drinks the blood of his victims. Once the young killer is caught, Biehn is hell bent on getting the creep a death sentence. While it’s always a pleasure to watch Biehn flex his raging badassery, Rampage is nothing more than a generic courtroom thriller. Props, however, should be given to the film’s legal scenes, which are some of the most laughably hyperbolic (and, it must be said, purely entertaining) courtroom scenes in the history of cinema. They’re really out there. D+

The Guardian (1990)

Oh Jesus, let me see if I can get this one right. A kind, middle-aged babysitter is motivated to kidnap the infants she looks after, so that she can feed the babies to a… tree. A tree that follows the woman around wherever she goes, because she actually is the tree. Or… something. As I noted earlier, Friedkin is always quick to point out that he has made some very bad films. And although he rarely suggests which films specifically he dislikes, I’m fairly certain The Guardian is chief among them. It’s just awful. F

Blue Chips (1994)

After taking a short break from directing, Friedkin returned with a film unlike any he’s made before or since. In Blue Chips, a college basketball coach with a temper of fire (played brilliantly by Nick Nolte) is persuaded to recruit new players by paying them off with cash, homes, cars, and other various gifts. He gets the team he wants, and as he’s taking them far in a winning season, a few people close to the team get their wits about them, and start tracking the money.

In addition to Nolte, J.T. Walsh, Mary McDonnell, Shaquille O'Neal (yep), and Ed O’Neill, give excellent performances that make Blue Chips immensely enjoyable. It doesn’t necessarily feel like a Friedkin film, but it’s a fun one all the same. B

Jailbreakers (1994)

Jailbreakers is a B-movie Bonnie and Clyde in which the good girl falls for the bad guy, and the two embark on a crime spree en route to Mexico. It’s poorly acted, clumsily staged and holds the rare distinction of being the least convincing period piece I’ve ever seen. Granted, my only idea of what the ‘50s looked like are a composite of what I’ve seen on film and television, but Jailbreakers is just off. It feels and looks like 1994, not 1950. Sadly, that’s the least of its problems. F

Jade (1995)

Jade is an erotic thriller about a conniving woman (played by the impossibly sexy Linda Fiorentino) trying to prove to her ex lover (David Caruso) that she had nothing to do with a recent murder. It’s a healthy cross between To Live and Die in L.A. and Basic Instinct, one with genuine thrills, cheesy set pieces, and the ability to be in on its own joke. Better cops-vs.-femme fatale movies have been made, but Jade is a perfectly decent movie that fits snuggly in the middle of Friedkin’s body of work. B

12 Angry Men (1997)

I actually saw this made for TV remake before watching Sidney Lumet’s classic masterpiece. And although I was young when I saw it, boy was I blown away. Things are more or less the same as in Lumet’s film, save a color picture and a handful of colorful words. Jack Lemmon steps into the Henry Fonda role, and is backed by an amazing supporting cast including James Gandolfini, Armin Mueller-Stahl, Ossie Davis, and most notably, George C. Scott. This 12 Angry Men is a faithful adaptation, while still managing to stand on its own. In fact, Friedkin’s film does what any decent remake should: it motivates those unknown to seek out the original film. And for that, I am extremely grateful. A-

Rules of Engagement (2000)

I’ve listened to every DVD commentary William Friedkin has recorded. I’ve watched interviews, read his memoir, and from what I can gather, William Friedkin considers Rules of Engagement the best film of his career. Self praise like that will get me to watch anything from a filmmaker I respect so much. And thankfully, Rules of Engagement is a worthy testament to Friedkin’s personal affections.

After a rescue mission in Yemen forces commanding officer Terry Childers (Samuel L. Jackson) to order his troops to kill a large crowd of men, women and children, Childers is put on trial for murder. Childers says everyone in the crowd had guns, but the United States government disagrees. Coming to Childers’ judicial defense is his longtime friend/war buddy Hays Hodges (Tommy Lee Jones). The two battle the system while battling old war demons within themselves. The film is at times over the top in its patriotism (and courtroom fury), but I’ve always been drawn to it. Also, any film that makes such good use of Guy Pearce’s talents (who here plays the New York-born prosecuting attorney) is automatically lent a favorable eye. B+

The Hunted (2003)

I love The Hunted. I love watching a crazed Benicio Del Toro mask his sanity by killing hunters for sport. I love watching Tommy Lee Jones’ gruff countryman track his best pupil via footprints and broken branches. I love the absurdly long climatic fight (and the insanely badass weapon preparation that precedes it). I love how the film gets endlessly compared to First Blood, when Friedkin’s film is infinitely superior. But most of all, I love how fun The Hunted feels.

It’s short, to the point, and serious without really taking itself too seriously. Del Toro, riding high off the success of his Traffic Oscar win, is quietly brilliant as an ex soldier lost in his own PTSD. The Hunted is the kind of film I can put on aimlessly and watch with little consequence. It’s silly yet sincere, bizarre yet amusing. Also, Johnny Cash’s bookended contributions really help encapsulate the overall tone of the picture. B+

Bug (2006)

I credit Bug as William Friedkin’s personal reinvention of his career. It perfectly sets the tone for where the man wants to take the third act of his vocation. Set mostly in one shitty motel room, Bug chronicles one woman’s swift spiral into inner madness. After white trash bartender Agnes (Ashley Judd) meets loner Peter (Michael Shannon) the two form a tender relationship based on mutual loss. They have sex (or rather, mate) and soon after, Peter is convinced that microscopic bugs have entered his bloodstream.

The bugs (which are never seen outside of Peter’s mind) are merely a catalyst for Agnes’ dread. She’s a woman who needs something to latch onto, and Peter’s insanity was first in line. The film, which is based on Tracey Lett’s off-Broadway play, is a series of extended scenes of mania, which result in as mind-fucked a third act as anything Friedkin has put on screen. Once you’ve seen it, you’ll never forget it. A-

Killer Joe (2012)

If Bug contains one of Friedkin’s most infamous third acts, then Killer Joe certainly features the most notorious third act of his oeuvre. One of the best compliments I can pay Killer Joe is that it just feels so damn… nasty. Which was precisely Friedkin’s goal. It’s a cruel and authentic depiction of white trash, shitkicker America that is indulgent yet deliciously spot on. In no way is this film for everyone (its NC-17 rating is indicative of that), but for sick sons of bitches like me, it is a perfect slice of redneck macabre.

After a father and son hire a police officer to murder their ex wife/mother, things go very wrong very quickly. Unable to pay Killer Joe (a career-defining Matthew McConaughey) in full, young Dottie (Juno Temple) is offered as collateral. Joe and Dottie’s relationship is eventful to say the least, spawning widespread family panic fueled by jealousy, greed and blood lust.

For now until the end of time, Killer Joe will always be remembered for its inventive use of fast food in its final act. Again, once you’ve seen it, it’ll never leave you. Which is great if you enjoy the film, and dreadful if you do not. A

In Summation

Masterful

The French Connection

The Exorcist

Killer Joe

Great

Sorcerer

Cruising

To Live and Die in L.A.

12 Angry Men

Bug

Good

The Birthday Party

The Boys in the Band

Blue Chips

Jade

Rules of Engagement

The Hunted

Eh

The Brink’s Job

Rampage

Just Plain Bad

Good Times

The Night They Raided Minsky’s

Deal of the Century

The Guardian

Jailbreakers