Debuts Blogathon: Steven Soderbergh – Sex, Lies And Videotape (1989)

Debuts Blogathon

It’s the final day of the Debuts Blogathon; and what a great Blogathon it’s been. When we first proposed the idea; Chris and I never guessed we’d get such a brilliant response. The diversity and quality of the entries we’ve received has been what’s made this such a fun feature to put together. I’ve learned a lot and look forward to revisiting some old classics and adding others to my watch list. I hope you have to. Thanks so much to Chris at Terry Malloy’s Pigeon Coop for being my partner on this venture; I couldn’t have put this together without him. Thanks also to all the brilliant contributors whose insightful and passionate entries have made this Blogathon so great. Finally, thanks to everyone who’s taken the time to follow the Blogathon; I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have. Here we go, the last entry and it’s my take on Steven Soderbergh’s debut Sex, Lies And Videotape.

Steven Soderbergh

Sex, Lies And Videotape (1989)

Stepping up to accept the Palme d’Or at the 1989 Cannes Film Festival for his debut feature Sex, Lies And Videotape – at 26, the youngest director ever to do so – a bewildered Steven Soderbergh was heard to say: “Well, I guess it’s all downhill from here.”

Sex, Lies and Videotape PosterThe weight of such an achievement could easily ruin a career, but not Soderbergh. Since that heady day on the French Riviera, he’s made some clangers, but some inspired, important works of cinema too and, as he (supposedly) folds up his director’s chair for good he can reflect on a filmography many others would give their right arm for.

Written in eight days and filmed for a budget of $1.2m, Sex, Lies And Videotape has been credited with helping to usher in the explosion of the new American independent film movement of the 1990s. The film was distributed by Miramax and made almost $25m at the box office. Suddenly, indies were no longer the preserve of the arthouse crowd; they were for everyone.

Sex, Lies and VideotapeThe title of the film helped to turn heads, of course. One might almost think it was a working title as it’s so self-explanatory. The plot is equally straightforward – unhappy, sexually uptight housewife Ann (Andie MacDowell) is married to conceited lawyer John (Peter Gallagher), who’s having an affair with Ann’s extroverted sister Cynthia (Laura San Giacomo). The cat is thrown among the pigeons with the arrival of John’s old school friend, the shy, eccentric Graham (James Spader), whose only cure for impotence is to watch back videotaped interviews he’s carried out with women talking about their sexual experiences.

Sex, Lies and VideotapeIn lesser hands such a premise could be a recipe for exploitative disaster, but what lifts Sex, Lies And Videotape into the realms of great cinema are two things – the script and performances.

Soderbergh lives up to the frankness of the title with raw, unflinching dialogue that fizzes and crackles when spoken by the superb cast. MacDowell was never better as the prissy Ann, who talks about First World problems to her shrink and is seemingly destined to allow John to walk over her until she’s woken out of her stupor by Graham. Gallagher and Giancomo (an actress who’s deserved a brighter career) are both great, but it’s Spader who really stands out. His big breakthrough, Spader took Best Actor at Cannes alongside Soderbergh’s triumph and it’s easy to see why; the emotional honesty and depth he brings to the repressed Graham is startling.

Sex, Lies and VideotapeAs the title implies, at its dark, chastened heart this is a film about deception. In one nicely observed moment, as John is rearranging a business meeting to be with Cynthia, the camera slowly moves pulls a 180° until it comes to rest on a picture sitting on his desk of a smiling Ann. Soderbergh makes the point more cleverly by running one scene into the next while still having the end of a conversation play out over the new scene. These conversations invariably undercut what we’re watching and underline the lies these characters trade in without fear of being exposed.

Sex, Lies and VideotapeDeception (and self-deception) is a theme Soderbergh has returned to time and again throughout his oeuvre. His Ocean’s trilogy features characters who deceive for a living; the eponymous Erin Brockovich tries to expose corporate secrets that have led to the residents of a small town suffering chronic medical problems; the lies spoken by those in and around the drug trade are explored in Traffic; George Clooney’s psychologist/astronaut chooses to believe in a lie in Solaris; Matt Damon’s whistleblower employee gets a taste of his own medicine in The Informant! and Liberace (Michael Douglas) keeps his homosexuality under wraps in Behind The Candelabra.

Sex, Lies and VideotapeIn an interview, Soderbergh spoke of his fascination with deception: “I’m fascinated by lying, If you walk around all day every day, telling the truth about every situation you encountered, to everyone you encountered, someone will eventually kill you. It’s just a matter of where the line is for you in lying.”

If Soderbergh is anything he’s reliably unreliable when it comes to his output. After Sex, Lies And Videotape, he suffered a fallow period commercially, making curios like the noirish The Underneath (1995) and Schizopolis (1996), which made peanuts. It wasn’t until 1998’s Out Of Sight that he got noticed by the wider world again, a film that paved the way for his style-over-substance Ocean’s trilogy. In between he veered between the brilliant (Traffic (2000), which deservedly bagged him a Best Director Oscar; the hugely underrated Solaris (2002); his two-part 2008 biopic of Che) and the not-so-good (2006’s The Good German; The Girlfriend Experience (2009), which starred porn actress Sasha Grey). For every glossy studio picture there’s been a low-budget project, broadly described as a ‘one for them, one for me’ approach.

Sex, Lies and VideotapeMuch like Tarantino, music is extremely important in Soderbergh’s films. While QT prefers the jukebox approach of adopting pre-recorded music, Soderbergh uses musical score, supplied in many of his films by composer par excellence Cliff Martinez. Martinez’s score for Sex, Lies And Videotape (his debut score) is one of the film’s great strengths; it’s experimental, ‘indie’ aesthetic fits the film like a glove and created a trend that many scores aped over the following decade.

In a lot of ways, Graham is Soderbergh, a man with a movie camera looking for some kind of truth. Graham eventually destroys his camera, which Soderbergh has done (metaphorically speaking at least) by turning his back on filmmaking out of disillusionment with a Hollywood system that could fire him from the Brad Pitt-starring Moneyball a week before the cameras started to roll.

Any time away from the camera for this most gifted and adventurous of filmmakers is our loss. The promise he showed with Sex, Lies And Videotape almost 25 years ago has been realised enough times to make us wish for it once more.

Over at Terry Malloy’s Pigeon Coop, Chris delivers his brilliant assessment of Stanley Kubrick’s 1953 debut Fear And Desire. To read the other entries in the Blogathon, click here.

Review – Behind The Candelabra

It’s an unfortunate twist of fate that a film featuring an outrageously flamboyant central figure who was one of the world’s biggest stars ended up being relegated to the small screen in the United States.

Behind The Candelabra may be a relatively low key film for Soderbergh to bow out on, but it is consumate filmmaking nonetheless and fully advocates Liberace's motto that "too much of a good thing is wonderful".

Behind The Candelabra may be a relatively low key film for Soderbergh to bow out on, but it is consumate filmmaking nonetheless and fully advocates Liberace’s motto that “too much of a good thing is wonderful”.

Despite starring Michael Douglas and Matt Damon and featuring Steven Soderbergh behind he camera for what is supposedly his final film, the Hollywood studio system shamed itself by refusing to back Behind The Candelabra for being ‘too gay’.

In the end, it took HBO to fund the picture and remind those who had forgotten that we’re living in the 21st century. This meant the movie only saw the light of day in America via the cable TV giant, a bittersweet irony considering it played in competition at this year’s Cannes Film Festival and made it into cinemas outside of the States.

'Mr Showmanship' Liberace (Michael Douglas) in action in Behind the Candelabra

‘Mr Showmanship’ Liberace (Michael Douglas) in action in Behind the Candelabra

Best known for overtly masculine roles in the likes of Basic Instinct, Wall Street and Fatal Attraction, Douglas plays seriously against type as Walter ‘Lee’ Liberace, the world-famous pianist extraordinaire who became the highest-paid entertainer on the planet and the epitome of Las Vegas excess.

Behind The Candelabra chronicles the last 10 years of Liberace’s life, focussing in particular on the covert affair he had with the much younger Scott Thorson (Damon), on whose eponymous memoir the film is based. An animal trainer for movies, Scott is introduced to Liberace through Bob Black (Scott Bakula), a Hollywood producer who he meets in a gay bar. Scott is dazzled by Liberace’s piano skills, while Lee is instantly taken with the handsome younger man.

Liberace (Michael Douglas) tells Scott (Matt Damon) how he feels in Behind the Candelabra

Liberace (Michael Douglas) tells Scott (Matt Damon) how he feels in Behind the Candelabra

While’s Liberace’s carefully managed public persona portrays him as being straight, in real life he and Scott become lovers and behind the candelabra embark on a passionate relationship that takes a turn for the surreal before finally ending up in acrimony.

The slightly fuzzy lens reflects the affection Soderbergh clearly has with his subject matter. There are similarities to Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights, both in the late 70s and early 80s setting and Damon’s beautifully observed portrayal of Thorson, whose journey from eager-to-please greenhorn to a hurt and embittered shadow of his former self calls to mind Mark Wahlberg’s Dirk Diggler.

Scott Thorson (Matt Damon) all dolled-up in Behind the Candelabra

Scott Thorson (Matt Damon) all dolled-up in Behind the Candelabra

When the story takes a painful turn, Soderbergh is careful not to trade in black and whites and place the blame on any one person’s doorstep. Liberace and Scott are essentially two sides of the same coin, both lonely and desperate to be loved. In Scott’s case this stems from his time as a foster child, in Lee’s it’s from his mother Frances (played by Debbie Reynolds), whom he feels stiffled by. In a telling scene, Frances wins the jackpot on a slot machine she’s playing in Lee’s home, but no money comes out. Lee offers her whatever money he can find, but she refuses and demands a cheque instead.

Being two such lonely souls looking for companionship, it’s of little surprise their relationship is so intense, although things start to get very odd when Lee brings in plastic surgeon Dr Jack Startz (Rob Lowe) to perform some off-kilter work on Scott.

Scott (Matt Damon) and half-baked plastic surgeon Dr Jack Startz (Rob Lowe) in Behind the Candelabra

Scott (Matt Damon) and half-baked plastic surgeon Dr Jack Startz (Rob Lowe) in Behind the Candelabra

Watching Behind The Candelabra, it’s remarkable to think no-one publicly questioned Liberace’s sexuality when he minced about on stage in all manner of camp and ostentatious costumes because it naturally formed part of his self-styled ‘Mr Showmanship’ image. Even Scott looks taken aback when, after watching Liberace on stage for the first time and suggesting to Bob “it’s funny the crowd would like something this gay”, Bob tells him: “They have no idea he’s gay.”

A scene that's probably 'too gay' for the studios in Behind the Candelabra

A scene that’s probably ‘too gay’ for the studios in Behind the Candelabra

Although ironically one of Soderbergh’s least flashy films considerig the subject matter, he still includes a number of clever touches, not least of which when a surly Scott is eating a meal while Lee is flirting with a group of younger men which subtly parallels a scene earlier in the film when Lee’s piano protegé Billy (Cheyenne Jackson) is sat in the same seat dourly eating food while Lee is first chatting to Scott. It’s a nicely observed moment of how disposable things are in Liberace’s world.

While Damon is superb, Douglas is just as good, showing a pain behind the eyes and the showman’s smile that looks decades old. He tells Scott he wants to be his “father, brother, lover and best friend”, but doesn’t know how to be any of them. Lowe, meanwhile, is hilarious as the half-baked nip/tuck doc who’s hardly the greatest advert for plastic surgery.

Behind The Candelabra may be a relatively low key film for Soderbergh to bow out on, but it is consumate filmmaking nonetheless and fully advocates Liberace’s motto that “too much of a good thing is wonderful”.