Body Double

Dennis Franz

Rubin

Body Double infiltrates the vehemence of adult entertainment through inspired Hitchcockian thrills. De Palma was at the height of his success during the eighties. Implementing his technical flourishes within sub-genres that we’re not necessarily accessible for the average audience member. Erotic thrillers, whilst some may describe as distasteful and misogynistic, accentuated sexualisation to further enhance the lust of man. Body Double is no different. Much like the pornographic industry that is portrayed, it certainly has a sub-par screenplay that persuades you to fast-forward to the “act” in question, yet manages to lure you into the sleazy allurement of De Palma’s technically adept direction. After waltzing in on his partner cheating on him, a novice actor is recruited by a friend to house-sit a luxury abode, conveniently positioned adjacently to another property hosting a sumptuous succubus of temptation. Naturally, downbeat and fuelled by anger, he resorts to peeping and spying as she provocatively dances in front of the window before proceeding to creepily follow her the next day. As the main man himself stated, this is inspired by Hitchcock’s two greatest thrillers: ‘Rear Window’ and ‘Vertigo’. The added eroticism granting De Palma’s feature a differing (if unpleasantly salty...) flavour that uniquely defines its narrative qualities. Initially, the first act kicked off with a mundane imitation of Hitchcock’s aforementioned ‘Rear Window’, opening itself up to comparative criticisms. The introductory setup, outlining Wasson’s Jake Scully as a claustrophobic unconfident mess, sent the plot down a one-way route that, upon first thought, had minimal opportunities for a U-turn. The convenience of the telescope as Scully unashamedly invades the privacy of his new temporary neighbour and his dreadful tailing techniques complementing his mediocre onscreen acting portrayals, sent my own thoughts down the predictable avenue. Was Scully a perverted mess, or was he being set up? I thought I knew. But then De Palma trapped me. Through ornate neo-noir aesthetics and a vapid insight into the world of adult entertainment, he precariously planted a sufficient amount of false breadcrumbs to force me to second guess myself. And that I did. The mystery slowly unraveling, accompanied by a smooth monosyllabic score and Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s legendary gay anthem “Relax”, unlocking the intentions of all characters involved. Heightening the glossy lifestyle of adult performers, De Palma‘s directorial flair, mostly consisting of extended takes and distant shots, invited audiences into a tainted environment plagued by primitive regression. Tantalising voyeurism and dangerous obsession. Even hints of Argento’s influence of the giallo sub-genre. Various techniques, especially the continuous panoramic 360 revolving as Wasson and Shelton questionably embraced each other, resembled dated homages that failed to match the noir aesthetics that De Palma meticulously crafted. The conclusive ten minutes unfortunately unwrapped certain revelations in an underwhelming manner, by having the story abruptly cut with no substantial resolution. This left myself viewing the proceeding credits montage with an overbearing feeling of unsatisfactory bewilderment. Undoubtedly, Body Double is rough around the edges. Occasionally bypassing substantial development for evocative voyeuristic tendencies. But that does not deter from De Palma’s intrinsic cinematic approach, where the night life of Hollywood truly becomes illuminated.