Art Garfunkel | Through the Shattered Lens

First released in 1971, Carnal Knowledge is the story of two friends, Jonathan (Jack Nicholson) and Sandy (Art Garfunkel).

Jonathan and Sandy meet in the late 40s, when they’re both assigned to be roommates at Amherst College. They’re both smart, handsome, and obviously from well-off families. They both believe that they have a wonderful future ahead of them and why shouldn’t they? World War II is over. America is the leader of the world and Jonathan and Sandy both appear to be future leaders of America. Sandy is shy and sensitive. When he meets Susan (Candice Bergen), he struggles to talk to her and when they date, he doesn’t know how far he should go with her. (When he tells Jonathan about getting a hand job from her, it’s obvious that Sandy didn’t previously realize such a thing was possible.) Jonathan, on the other hand, is confident and aggressive. He can be a braggart and he can be insensitive but there’s something undeniably attractive about someone who knows what he wants and is determined to get it. Soon, Susan finds herself torn between the two roommates, though Sandy is clueless that Jonathan is even interested in her.

Carnal Knowledge is divided into three separate parts, each taking place in a different decade and each shot in its own individual style. (The film was written by playwright Jules Feiffer and the script does very much feel like a three-act play.) As a character, Susan disappears after the first act but her relationship with Jonathan and Sandy haunts every bit of the second and third acts. By the end of the film, Sandy is no longer sensitive and Jonathan is no longer virile and one can’t help but feel that Susan, wherever she may be, is definitely better off without either one of them.

The second act is dominated by Jonathan’s relationship with Bobbie, played by Ann-Margaret. Bobbie is beautiful and heart-breakingly insecure. Her relationship with Jonathan starts with a dash of romance and then quickly becomes a trap for both of them. Jonathan is not ready (or mature enough) to settle down. Bobbie is desperate for him to marry her and willing to go to extremes to make that happen. The scenes where Jonathan and Bobbie fight are some of the most powerful in the film, with both Nicholson and Ann-Margaret giving the viewer raw and honest portrayals of two insecure people who are totally wrong for each other but also incapable of getting away from each other.

By the time the third act comes around, Jonathan has been reduced to paranoid ruminations about “ball-breakers” and can only get it up when he’s feeling like he’s the one in power. (Rita Moreno has a cameo as a very patient prostitute.) Meanwhile, middle-aged Sandy is dating an 18 year-old (Carol Kane) and clearly trying to live the free-spirited youth that he never had. Who is more pathetic? Jonathan, who bitterly realizes he’s never going to be young again, or Sandy, who is trying to deny the fact that he’s getting older?

Carnal Knowledge is a dark film and indeed, it sometimes feels like it’s a bit too dark for its own good. Even the worst people occasionally have a laugh. The script is full of sharp lines and the characters are interesting, even if they are for the most part unlikable. Still, there’s a staginess to the film’s narrative and director Mike Nichols never quite breaks free from it. That said, I still highly recommend this film. Not only is it a portrait of a culture-in-transition but it also features some wonderful performances, especially from Ann-Margaret and Jack Nicholson. (In most ways, Jonathan is definitely worse than Sandy but we still have more sympathy for Jonathan because Jack Nicholson is a considerably better actor than Art Garfunkel.) Ann-Margaret honestly portrays the heart-breaking insecurity that comes from being repeatedly told that you have nothing but your looks to offer. Meanwhile, Nicholson throws himself into playing the charismatic but immature Jonathan. We may not like Jonathan but we do, in the end, understand why he’s become the person that he has. It takes a certain amount of courage to play a character like Jonathan and, in this film, Nicholson shows every bit of that courage.

“A guy named Steve Rubell had a dream: To throw the best damned party the world had ever seen and to make it last forever. He built a world where fantasy was put up as reality and where an 80-year-old disco queen could dance till dawn. Where models mingled with mechanics, plumbers danced with princes. It was a place where all labels were left behind. A place where there were no rules.”

— Shane O’Shea (Ryan Phillippe) in 54 (1998)

So, did you actually read that quote at the beginning of the review? I don’t blame if you didn’t because not only is it ludicrous overwritten but it just goes on and on. It’s one of those quotes that you read in a script and you think to yourself, “They better get absolutely the best actor in the world to deliver these lines,” and then you realize Ryan Phillippe has been cast in the role.

Except, of course, I doubt that any of those lines were found in the original script for 54. 54 is one of those films where, as you watch it, you can literally imagine the chaos that must have been going on during the editing process. Subplots are raised and then dropped and the mysteriously pop up again. Characters change both their personalities and their motives in between scenes. Huge dramatic moment happen almost at random but don’t seem to actually have anything to do with anything else happening in the film.

In short, 54 is a mess but it’s a mess that’s held together by incredibly clunky narration. Shane O’Shea, who spent the waning days of the 1970s working at Studio 54, narrates the film. And, despite the fact that Shane is presented as being kinda dumb (think of Saturday Night Fever‘s Tony Manero, without the sexy dance moves), his narration is extremely verbose and reflective. It’s almost as if the narration was written at the last-minute by someone desperately trying to save a collapsing film.

I watched 54 on cable because I saw that it was about the 70s and I figured it would feature a lot of outrageous costumes, danceable music, and cocaine-fueled melodrama. And it turns out that I was right about the cocaine-fueled melodrama but still, 54 is no Boogie Nights. It’s not even Bright Lights, Big City.

54 does have an interesting cast, which makes it all the more unfortunate that nobody really gets to do anything interesting. Poor Ryan Phillippe looks totally lost and, in the film’s worst scene, he actually has to stand in the middle of a dance floor and, after the death of elderly Disco Dottie (that’s the character’s name!), yell at all the decadent club goers. Breckin Meyer is cute as Phillippe’s co-worker and Salma Hayek gets to sing. Neve Campbell plays a soap opera actress who Phillippe has a crush on and…oh, who cares? Seriously, writing about this film is almost as annoying as watching it.

Mike Myers — yes, that Mike Myers — plays the owner of the club, Steve Rubell. The role means that Myers gets to snort cocaine, hit on Breckin Meyer, and vomit on the silk sheets of his bed. I think that Myers gives a good performance but I’m not really sure. It could have just been the shock of seeing Mike Myers snorting cocaine, hitting on Breckin Meyer, and vomiting on the silk sheets of his bed.

If you want to enjoy some 70s decadence, avoid 54 and rewatch either Boogie Nights or American Hustle.