I'm not a fan of Adam Rifkin's lighter, more commercial stuff ("The Chase", "Detroit Rock City") but I was blown away by "The Dark Backward", which is one of the darkest, most transgressive contemporary films I've seen and that made me seek out "Night at the Golden Eagle", which I also really liked. Golden Eagle has the same obsession with darker than dark, hell-on-earth textures as Dark Backward. I'm not sure how Rifkin does it, but I've seen few other filmmakers who really capture that sense that you are truly looking into the bowels of hell. Even David Lynch doesn't quite go this far down.
Basic plot involves two old-time cons, one having just been released from prison. The other has been living a straight life at the titular fleabag motel, home to prostitutes, geriatric Hollywood hoofers, and other assorted weirdos and drug addicts. The two old cons have a plan to head to Vegas in the morning and start fresh lives as blackjack dealers, but when a hooker ends up dead in their room, things get complicated. There's also a subplot involving a very young prostitute being shown the tricks of the trade by a motherly older prostitute (played by Ann Magnuson).
The film is actually a pretty big downer. Some definite shades of Bukowski and Hubert Selby Jr. Comic relief comes in the form of a b.s.-spouting, television obsessional (played wonderfully by old-time soul great Sam Moore) and a much put-upon desk clerk ("EVERYONE needs something! I'm out of milk, fer Christ's sake!").
More than anything this makes me wish Rifkin would stick to the darker, textural stuff he has such an undeniable gift for creating.
Basic plot involves two old-time cons, one having just been released from prison. The other has been living a straight life at the titular fleabag motel, home to prostitutes, geriatric Hollywood hoofers, and other assorted weirdos and drug addicts. The two old cons have a plan to head to Vegas in the morning and start fresh lives as blackjack dealers, but when a hooker ends up dead in their room, things get complicated. There's also a subplot involving a very young prostitute being shown the tricks of the trade by a motherly older prostitute (played by Ann Magnuson).
The film is actually a pretty big downer. Some definite shades of Bukowski and Hubert Selby Jr. Comic relief comes in the form of a b.s.-spouting, television obsessional (played wonderfully by old-time soul great Sam Moore) and a much put-upon desk clerk ("EVERYONE needs something! I'm out of milk, fer Christ's sake!").
More than anything this makes me wish Rifkin would stick to the darker, textural stuff he has such an undeniable gift for creating.