DN:FILM Friedkin Uncut
“Let me make it very clear, let me demystify all of the bullshit that is written about filmmakers and film,” says William Friedkin in FRIEDKIN UNCUT, an absorbing, introspective portrait of the canonical, at times cutting, American director. “If you want to make a film, you need a combination of ambition, luck and the grace of God. To me, the most important of those is the grace of God.”
Relaxed in his opulent Hollywood home, Friedkin—83, voluble, pragmatic, both cocky and self-effacing—is omitting sheer artistic vision in his litany of auteurist attributes, something he owns in abundance. Consider his most memorable films: “The French Connection,” “The Exorcist,” “Sorcerer,” “Cruising,” “To Live and Die in L.A.” That formidable streak, a compendium of classics, represents some of the darkest, most uncompromising adult thrillers in modern cinema, meticulously etched character studies frequently steeped in cops and crime that punch with bruising intensity.
Uncommon verisimilitude grounds all the movies, a through line in “Friedkin Uncut.” Groomed in documentary filmmaking, Friedkin bridled at the restrictions of fiction film when he landed in Hollywood. Then he saw Costa-Gavras’ political thriller “Z” and that, he says, granted him permission to use documentary techniques in fictional stories. And it’s this grainy verité of his best films—a no-nonsense, one-take, seat-of-the-pants, on-location obstinacy—that’s become his artistic signature. “I’m not looking for perfection in the films I make,” he says. “I am looking for spontaneity.” This is evident from the celebrated car chase through Brooklyn in “The French Connection” to the harrowing jungle bridge crossing in 1977’s underrated “Sorcerer,” a nail-biting adventure that a wildly gesticulating Quentin Tarantino calls “One of the greatest films ever made.” (Of the movie, a box office fiasco, Friedkin says,“That’s the most important film I’ve made and the one I hope to be remembered for.” One only wishes this doc elaborated on that surprising sentiment.)
Fellow directors hail Friedkin’s knack for gritty realism and “psychological rigor” (that’s Walter Hill on “The Exorcist”). “He doesn’t philosophize about evil,” says Francis Ford Coppola about that Oscar-winning film. “He SHOWS you evil.” Adds Wes Anderson: “You think that this is really happening, which has always been the thing in a Friedkin movie. They’re built on something very real.” “And because the films are so real, I don’t think they date,” says director Edgar Wright. “‘The French Connection’ looks like a breath of fresh air even now.” Says Friedkin: “The ending of ‘The French Connection’ is virtually a documentary.”
If Friedkin has gotten lost in today’s vortex of fast and furious franchises, the director’s more recent indie thrillers, “Bug” and “Killer Joe,” reveal an artist who still wants to get a rise out of audiences with a bravura command of the dark and disconcerting. These are tough, off-kilter movies that ask a little more of viewers than the latest Marvel merch machine. While “Friedkin Uncut” helmer Francesco Zippel traces conventional contours of the cinephile doc—generous, germane film clips, worshipful talking heads—he manages an entertaining snapshot of his willing subject, who exudes the smart, funny, encyclopedic persona of Friedkin’s similarly bonhomous peer Martin Scorsese. The result is an insightful account that’s light on its feet and heavy on film-geek bliss.