Go Go Tales
Abel Ferrara’s Go Go Tales is a work of brazen energy. It’s a freewheeling, loose piece that reverberates with the sense of cast and crew functioning without a net. Works of narrative cinema rarely seem this intoxicated with every fun-loving, form-manipulating moment. Yet, the movie ultimately proves a bit too crazed and disjointed for its own good.
It takes place over the course of one long, chaotic evening at Ray Ruby’s Paradise, a downtown Manhattan cabaret. We follow the manic interactions between the eponymous owner (Willem Dafoe), his underlings (Bob Hoskins and Frankie Cee), their diverse group of dancers, VIP guests, first-time clients, and the boisterous landlord (Sylvia Miles), among others.
With multiple, active cameras, a penchant for improvisation and a distinct eye for the lavish, highly stylized décor of the place Ferrara offers a rich depiction of the milieu. He amplifies the club’s sleazier aspects while also clearly elucidating the nostalgic view held by its devoted staff and regular customers. The impressive set, constructed at Rome’s legendary Cinecittá Studios, reverberates with slick, authentic style.
Unfortunately, the picture’s lack of structure does it in. There’s a narrative here, but it’s largely trapped beneath the decadence. After a while, one grows tired of sifting through the endless stream of gyrating dancers, aggressive backslappers and other contributors to the general bedlam. The film’s so relentlessly manic that you’re ultimately left seeking a respite.
Ferrara’s knack for the outlandish and overwrought translates well to the proceedings, but he doesn’t fully grasp the particular requisites for success in the comedy genre. There’s no satiric edge here, and nary an example of a developed comic conceit. Essentially, the movie’s a spastic blur, albeit one that also bursts a wonderful, squirrelly Dafoe performance, for those who treasure such things.
© 2007 Robert Levin. All rights reserved.
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