OBSESSION (Brian De Palma, 1976)

Naturally, I'll begin this blog with a film I dislike.

Brian De Palma generates divisiveness on a number of levels. There is debate over preference for his Hitchcockian thrillers vs. his crime films vs. his divergent efforts (most of which seem to be commercial failures). There is probably just as much debate about whether his films are trash or goofy referentialism/overblown satire or something more (intellectually demanding I guess).

I tend to approach De Palma films within that second category. For certain cinephiles, this might create the tendency to project some postmodern game onto these movies, where the goal is to catch the reference and evaluate based on how well that reference is complicated or played with. I don't consider myself a cinephile, but I've felt this impulse to varying degrees.

But is there any play in Obsession? On first viewing, I would answer no. At least it is not play on the level of Blow Out, Body Double, Sisters, or Hi, Mom! In other words, if there is play in Obsession, it's not fun or enjoyable. All of these other films are vastly superior in this regard. You do have a little humor in waiting for LaSalle's (Lithgow) unscrupulous nature to reveal itself. I also found the film lighthearted in its sudden reveal that Courtland's (Robertson) obsession is actually ruining them financially. But is there any exploration of the self-reflexiveness of the film beyond what can be summarized by its premise? Not really.

I should give the ending credit for being ambiguous and inviting some different readings. Not until the very end does Courtland realize this is not a typical happy ending, but an incestuous one. He learns Sandra is his daughter Amy (Bujold) and cheerfully goes along with their embrace, whatever that might imply. Is Courtland just a daydreaming cinephile who is at last awoken from the movie playing in his own head, with its insular language of cinematic reference? Is this revelation the final act of De Palma's hand unraveling the cloak of Hitchockian signifiers to remind the viewers that this is in fact, his own original invention (as well as Schrader's (and Herrmann's) who I should have mentioned probably)? Maybe if you found yourself caught up in the drama of the film it worked like this. But I was just happy for it to be over.

Is a sense of play necessary to make a referential film worthwhile? Can the absurdity of it all be excised? As far as Vertigo tributes (See how I'm just bringing this up now?) go, I much prefer André Téchiné's Barocco, which lacks the flair of American postmodernism. Amazingly, it and Obsession never get brought up together despite the fact that they were both released in 1976.

To Hitchcock's credit, the two are incredibly different films that both seem to capture some essence of their point(s) of reference. While De Palma weaves in pieces from multiple Hitchcock films, Téchiné (originally a critic) draws from French film and even includes word-for-word dialogue from Johnny Guitar for good measure. I faintly remember reading a quote from Téchiné that said his early films were so referential because they were all inspired by the cinema. In other words, he needed to work through his cinematic language to find an original voice (something that seems fairly common among auteurs). But that statement undersells the originality and beauty of a film like Barocco. It's obviously fair to say that De Palma is more interested in humorously underscoring the fucked-upness of Hitchcock characters than revealing some underlying beauty. But Obsession, in some ways, represents the worst case scenario of where cinematic language limits rather than expands the possibilities of expression through reference.