'Bright Lights, Big City' grows dim with age
By Jen Chaney
Washington Post
Two decades have passed since "Bright Lights, Big City" was released in theaters. So does that mean that the movie, based on the influential '80s novel by celebu-scribe Jay McInerney, is more intriguing now that so much time has passed or nothing more than a relic of a bygone, coke-fueled, Depeche Mode-dominated era?
Turns out the answer is neither. "Bright Lights," released recently on a special-edition DVD that celebrates its 20th anniversary, certainly contains dated details that tip it toward the relic side. (See Kiefer Sutherland's moussed hair or the score by Donald Fagen, which often sounds like an early attempt at the theme from "Doogie Howser, M.D.")
But ultimately, it's nothing more than a semi-decent film that tells a familiar tale (good guy does too many drugs en route to redemption) without ever rising to the level of "significant." The movie is certainly not great, but it's also not nearly as bad as history or its weak box office intake suggest.
The performances, especially from its supporting cast of veteran actors, emerge as the best things in "Bright Lights." Jason Robards as an alcohol-soaked literary editor, Dianne Wiest as a cancer-stricken mother and Frances Sternhagen as a taskmaster of a boss all deliver layered, affecting portrayals even though their parts border on the minuscule. Just watch Sternhagen when she has to fire the drug-addled Jamie (Michael J. Fox) and, her lips quivering, she briefly breaks her all-business veneer. It's a small but breathtaking moment.
As for Fox, he does a respectable job in a role that, as McInerney points out during his commentary, many in Hollywood thought he should not have won. One can see their point. No matter how hard Fox flings himself into Jamie's desperate, club-hopping persona, the actor can't quite get past one inescapable truth: Most people don't want to see Alex Keaton snorting coke. Then again, that's also what keeps you watching: You can't turn off the DVD until you know that Alex — or, if you prefer, Marty McFly — will be OK.
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