The Screen Addict | Out of Sight
Out of Sight (1998) is a somewhat atypical film to write about in relation to the No. Bad. Films. philosophy, because I can’t claim it was ever maligned by the Guardians of Good Taste. Most “critics” were actually quite positive about the film upon its release. However, I do feel that this gorgeous amalgamation of Heist, Romance, Comedy and Crime was always overshadowed by that other Soderbergh-Clooney collaboration about robbing Casinos. I secretly prefer OoS over all three Ocean’s flicks, though.
Which is not to say that I wasn’t a fan of Danny Ocean and his many henchmen, quite the contrary. I adore the first film in the trilogy and have affection for large parts of the second and third installments – I mean, how can you go wrong with Bruce Willis playing Bruce Willis and Al Pacino out-villaining Andy Garcia?
But there is something very special about OoS. This is a film that came up in the decade wherein Quentin Tarantino schooled us on what was actually cool, so after Reservoir Dogs (1992), Pulp Fiction (1994) and Jackie Brown (1997), other filmmakers followed suit with similar-themed stories like Get Shorty (1995) and Payback (1999).
Like the QT-directed JB, OoS is based on a novel by Elmore Leonard and has the same unique storyline and dialogue. The plot of a U.S. Marshall (Jennifer Lopez) chasing – and falling for – an escaped bank robber (George Clooney) appears relatively straightforward, but it’s just impossible not to be sucked in by the plethora of wonderful characters doing stuff that is undeniably questionable and at the same time so very, very captivating. In OoS, it feels like everyone is a permanent resident of the shadowlands between good and bad, right and wrong.
Part of the reason that OoS has largely stayed under the radar of the mainstream audience, is that it did not exactly set the box office on fire. With a budget close to $50 million, it was a relatively expensive film considering the genre. More so when you consider the worldwide take was “only” $75 million. The general rule of thumb to calculate the total costs of releasing a film – that is, including prints and advertising – is to multiply the budget by 1½. This brings us at a grand total of $75 million spent, and after subtracting the exhibitors’ share – about 50% – we can safely assume OoS lost about $37.5 million in its theatrical run.
However, during The Nineties the video and home-entertainment industry was still booming. Films like The Shawshank Redemption (1994), Fight Club (1999) and The Big Lebowski (1998) – which are universally loved but were not at all hits in theatres – enjoyed a fantastic afterlife through VCRs around the world. As would be the destiny of OoS and how I was introduced to it.
During the second half of The Nineties, I went from being a solitary film consumer to binging several flicks a night with friends while drinking beer and shooting the shit. Four of my buddies owned an apartment in Amsterdam where we would all hang out during the weekends and blow off steam. In fact, we loved that place so much that we once actually prematurely broke off a trip abroad so we could just go back to our man cave.
It was on one of these epic binges that we saw OoS. I remember it vividly, because after the film I got into a heated argument with one of my friends about whether or not that was actually Samuel L. Jackson appearing in the final scene. I tried to explain to my buddy that it was really him making an uncredited cameo appearance, but he would have none of it. I was right, of course, but Jackson’s cameo is just one of numerous wonderful parts played by a whole bunch of Hollywood’s finest players.
The second of two lovely cameos in OoS, is Michael Keaton reprising his role as detective Ray Nicolette from JB. The connection here is Elmore Leonard obviously, but it’s still such a nice touch because the films otherwise have nothing to do with each other. In fact, they were released by rivaling studios who usually don’t like to loan out characters free of charge. Miramax “owned” the Nicolette character and it took the mediation of Tarantino to let Universal use him for OoS. Curiously, in JB his name is spelled “Nicolet”, while in OoS we know him as “Nicolette”. Maybe Tarantino’s famed dyslexia caused this discrepancy?
The awesome cast list just goes on and on. OoS is filled to the brim with small but significant parts for character actors to chew on. Ving Rhames, Albert Brooks and Soderbergh-regular Don Cheadle fill out the supporting cast, and in their periphery we can feast our eyes on the likes of Dennis Farina, Steve Zahn and Luis Guzmán, to name but a few. Just a fantastic ensemble.
Top-lining are, of course, the aforementioned Lopez and Clooney. When I wrote about the excellent serial-killer Thriller The Cell (2000) a couple of weeks ago, I stated that I fell in love with Lopez as an actress when I first saw OoS – specifically because of the electrifying sequence in which she and Clooney meet in a top-floor hotel bar and eventually end up in a room. Mind you, this is not a cheap, shallow booty-call. The way the sequence is set up, lit, written, acted, directed and edited is just so utterly tasteful and elegant. The music, the subtle use of freeze frame, the view of light snow over a city at night… it is truly one the most – if not the most – genuinely sexy moments of intimacy in film I have ever seen. On an even more personal note – the sequence will always remind me of a lady I once shared a wonderful time with and if she ever reads this, she will know that I am writing about her.
OoS is an undeniably sexy and steamy film, but it features a couple of deviously funny scenes, too. While locked up, Clooney’s Jack Foley and Cheadle’s Maurice Miller run into each other in the prison library and get into an argument over shakedown practices. The altercation turns physical, but when a fellow inmate alerts them to an approaching guard, Foley and Miller immediately switch gears and pretend to be reading a book together to avoid penalty. Both men are prison-savvy enough to understand that the enemy of your enemy is your friend. Now this description of the scene might already make you chuckle, but like the hotel-bar sequence I mentioned before, the combination of supreme writing, acting, editing and directing just elevates the gag to a singular level.
And then there is the staggering jump-scare of Keith Loneker’s White Boy Bob running up the stairs while holding his gun, tripping, landing on his hand and accidentally shooting himself in the face… Kids, this is why mom tells you not to run with scissors.
I could go on for pages, but my advice to all you No. Bad. Films. enthusiasts out there is to just (re)watch OoS tonight. While writing this piece, I ran a couple of scenes to jog my memory and was instantly drawn into the film again.
OoS deserves more eyeballs than just White Boy Bob’s.
#thescreenaddict
#film
#movies
#contentrecommendation
#celebrateart
#nobodyknowsanything
Twitter (X): Robin Logjes | The Screen Addict