Boogie Nights (1997)

Writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson takes parts of the strange, sad stories of several iconic porno stars and mixes ’em all up into a powerful movie cocktail. This is a grand epic set across a landscape of changing times. It covers the porn chic peak of the 1970s to the lowdown days of the 80s when old stars were fading and when filmmakers who might have once seen themselves as auteurs—their films showing as much personality as pussy—were reduced to mere money shot merchants on videotape. To his credit, Anderson doesn’t make this a soggy morality tale nor is it an examination of dated sexual mores. No, he goes bigger and better with a classic “rise and fall” story, as set against a fleshy, colorful backdrop. Tales of downward spirals never get old and never become irrelevant. The reason why is simple: We never stop seeing them happen in real life. Every young celebrity sensation carries the mark of doom. Then there are those poor idiots who hit it big in the lottery, blow all of the money on fleeting excess and end up homeless crack addicts. Seen it before, gonna see it again. See it here through a fierce directorial eye that’s open to both the bleakness and the humor of it all. Along the way, we get a stack of memorable performances. Anderson never wastes a great actor and this film offers almost ten distinctly drawn major characters, each of whom gets a moment to shine. Burt Reynolds is particularly good as the sturdy old porn director and he reminds us all of the potent skill, with screen presence to burn, that sits underneath that toupee and behind all of those tabloid articles.