Review of Opening Night (1977) by Jonathan H — 12 Jan 2013

It was once suggested by Pauline Kael, never a fan, that Cassavetes thought not like a director, but like an actor. What Kael meant was that he lacked sophistication as a filmmaker; to take that comparison further, to me, it never feels like Cassavetes is directing himself in a film, it feels like Cassavetes implanting himself inside his own creation, like Orson Welles. Opening Night is about the mystery of becoming, performing, and acting. Like a haunted Skip James record, it's got the echoes of ghosts all around. Gena Rowlands' breakdowns, which are stupefying and almost operatic, surprising coming from Cassavetes, are accompanied by a jumpy, unsettling piano. It's also refreshing to see some plot points -- Who is this dead girl? The metaphysical possibilities are endless, and it's amazing to find this kind of thing in a Cassavetes film. This is not Adaptation; here, the blending of reality and fiction and drama is not to show cleverness but to show the inner turmoil and confusion it creates.

There's so much going on here. The pure, joyous love when Rowlands greets her doorman; the horror when she beats herself up... The scene where the girl talks about how she devoted her life to art and to music is one of the most effective demonstrations of understanding what it means to be a fan of someone. You can see some roots of this in A Star Is Born, and Almodovar borrowed from it for All About My Mother. I think the ending is a little bit of a disappointment in its ambiguity because of the laughing fits, but the preparation leading up to it is almost sickening. (Also, I think it's worth mentioning that I don't think this film is about alcoholism -- despite its urgency in many of the scenes, it's a relatively small point about the film.).

It's a living, breathing thing, and it feels like a process: it could go any direction at any time. Like Taste of Cherry, we are reminded that "you must never forget this is only a play." Yet it is dangerous: when Rowlands says that line, is it great drama? How will the audience take it? Is she being reflexive or does she just not care? Her (character's) breakdowns are incorporated into the performances, and ultimately the film, in such a way that it's like witnessing a female James Dean. Yet another stellar collaboration between Rowlands and Cassavetes.