After Hours (1985)
Directed by Martin Scorsese
Written by Joseph Minion
Starring Griffin Dunne, Rosanna Arquette, Teri Garr, Cheech and Chong
Release Date September 13th, 1985
Published
The tracking shot that opens Martin Scorsese's black comedy, After Hours, is relatively meaningless. It's just a neat visual way to end up with the camera pointing to our protagonist, Paul Hackett. This is a valid cinematic choice, no criticism there. That said, as a student of opening scenes, I am a little bummed out. In my last exploration of a Scorsese classic, The Age of Innocence, Scorsese's camera opened on flowers under the credits and in the opening moment, a flower given from a performer on stage to another. The flower imagery in The Age of Innocence was the underlying theme of the movie.
Perhaps, the vacuousness of the tracking shot in After Hours is a reflection of Paul's own vacuousness. Under the credits, we're hearing Mozart's Symphony in D Major No. 45. The symphony has little to do with the story either but it is beautiful and Paul is a handsome guy so, if I am going to read too much into every second of After Hours, perhaps these two surface level observations combined with the meaningless tracking shot crashing on Paul's face, is all to add up to how empty the character of Paul is and how his descent into a world of madness will only underline how Paul prefers being an empty vessel of capitalist exploitation to the alternative of actually living a life, as messy and problematic as that can be.
As Paul Hackett's (Griffin Dunne) co-worker, played in a brief cameo by Bronson Pinchot, prattles on about how he doesn't plan on doing this job that Paul is teaching him in this scene, Paul is struck by the co-worker's words. He stops listening almost immediately, this man having a plan and goals in life, has Paul searching the world around him for a meaning. As the co-worker goes on about getting into publishing, Paul's eyes fall on everyday office stuff before finally landing briefly on a shot of a birthday calendar, and a picture of a child on a co-worker's desk. The story of a person with a family, a life away from work, is what jars Paul back to reality and the reality that his new co-worker doesn't realize he's hurt Paul's feelings a little, just enough to make him not pay attention before awkwardly excusing himself.
The deck is beginning to stack. The conversation with Paul's co-worker is underlying a theme that will become clear, Paul doesn't have a life outside of work. He has no family, no girlfriend, he doesn't even seem to have friends, or, at least, he doesn't make it plain that he has anyone he can call on a Friday night. As Paul leaves work, he's just another lonely face in the crowd, so insignificant that the gates closing his office nearly close on him, and he narrowly slips through as men are closing them. All the while, another, more melancholic classical music piece plays on the soundtrack. The giant golden gate doors close, and Paul is made smaller by their massive size in a striking visual.
Find my full length review at Geeks.Media
