After Hours, After Hours
After hours, after hours
by Karenna Umscheid
As a college student, I’ve had my fair share of dreary late nights caught walking around the city. Sometimes it’s to talk with a friend or run to CVS for an odd errand, but it’s mostly because there is some sort of incredible power and self-assurance in knowing that I can. I
spent so many years of my life dreaming about what it would be like to live in a big city, and every once in a while, I remember that I do, and I strive to take advantage of it. The intersections of Chinatown and Downtown Crossing are bright and delirious, nighttime in the city a spectacle almost larger than life. Perhaps this is why the anxious fear that consumes Paul Hackett (Griffin Dunne) in After Hours is so potent, that the thrill of the city is endless and inescapable.
After Hours follows the worst, most exhausting night of Paul’s life. After his workday ends, he meets Marcy (Rosanna Arquette) in a cafe and gets her number. He calls and later takes a cab over, but tragically his only cash, a 20 dollar bill, flies out the window of the taxi. Thus begins a perilous night that Paul spends penniless, with each encounter more debaucherous and distressing than the next, his anxiety-inducing escapades seem endless.
The first time I watched After Hours was at a midnight screening at the Coolidge Corner Theater, at the beginning of my freshman year in college. In preparation, I drank half of a Bang energy drink and a cola at the theater to stay awake. My mind grew only slightly delirious, and I was astonished by and in love with this old-school Scorsese. The film falls within my favorite Scorsese era (though I really do adore all of them, and am especially obsessed with her most recent projects, that’s beside the point), that of his 1980s dark, occasionally comedic, and always deeply fascinating character studies. The King of Comedy predates After Hours by a few years, another film that marries obsession and terror in a darkly funny way. The decade also claims The Last Temptation of Christ, a stunning yet controversial religious epic, and Raging Bull, a widely-acclaimed classic biographical sports film.
The 1980s Scorsese filmography engaged with such extensive, challenging breadth and depth it should come as no surprise that he continues to craft excellent work. After Hours, is a brilliant example of a character study in the form of a relationship, an infatuation between a man and New York City. It’s not a backdrop but a true character, whom Paul wrestles with and attempts to run from, but he has been trapped, his story tied inexplicably to the place in which it occurs.
This dissection of a city, as I watched it, fit in perfectly with my adventure to understand Boston, and how I was supposed to fit in it. New to living in not just this city, but any big city at all, the intense adventures of the film spun into my own anxieties about my life and freedom, and whatever I was supposed to do with it. Though my adventures are never nearly as treacherous as Paul’s, the keen attention and deep devotion Scorsese has for his New York City always has me longing for a better understanding of my own.
The material is dark, but far more lighthearted than many other Scorsese films, and yet I am still challenged by the mastery of it all. The personality of the city, and the transformation it causes, are more powerful than I can understand now. But it seems to me that in After Hours, it’s really there, as long as you don’t let it swallow you whole.
After Hours screens at the Brattle Theater on January 4, 2023.
Until next Wednesday,
Karenna
Photograph: A Good Movie to Watch