‘Ever seen After Hours?’

‘Nope. Never heard of it. Who’s in it?’

‘Griffin Dunne, Linda Fiorentino, a few others…’

‘Never heard of them either. Sounds shit.

‘Ever seen After Hours?’

‘Nope. Who Directed it?’

‘Scorsese’

‘No he didn’t. I’m a big fan of his and I’ve never heard of it. Sounds shit anyway.’

These are some of the typical responses you can get from folk when you pose the question, ‘Ever Seen After Hours?’ In fact, you are probably reading this right now and are only initially learning about the existence of the motion picture as you progress towards the end of this senteeeeeeeeeeeencccccccce. Don’t worry, you’re not an ignoramus or philistine if you haven’t. A shocking and frightening majority, for some reason still unbeknownst to me, have no idea this underrated classic is patiently awaiting their viewing pleasure.

And yes, it is a Martin Scorsese feature. These days, the behemoth box office smashes of Shutter Island, The Aviator and Gangs of New York are what we seem to instinctively associate Scorsese with, given that it’s the current output, and that we’re force fed through marketing tubes upon widespread release. Don’t forget to cast your eye back to the time when Scorsese was blazing a trail of cutting edge classics, and Taxi Driver and Raging Bull had helped him blitz his way rapidly towards legendary status. What followed those was indeed ‘After Hours’, the film which showcased Scorsese take his first big experimental step sideways, toy with a more fully fledged sense of comedy, (albeit in a dark, whacky vein) and all underlayed with a hugely rich thematic focus. Does that sound palatable to a box office beying for more? Hardly. You can probably already see why you’ve never heard of After Hours. Scorsese’s bold creative step here didn’t make any sacrifices in terms of the quality he was becoming synonomous with. It grew if anything, and showed him tackling a much more challenging scope to his filmmaking. When watching and appreciating After Hours, this will gradually dawn upon you. At the time however, it flew under the radar, and for some reason, never managed to develop that burgeoning acclaim that so much other cult classics incrementally develop over the years. Perhaps too much, too soon. Or yet another ‘over their heads’ scenario.

In After Hours, Paul Hackett (Griffin Dunne) is a slightly uptight yuppie word processor who, perhaps feeling an inkling to something out of the ordinary of his humdrum routine, on an average weeknight, follows his impulse to pursue a chance encounter with enigmatic and eccentric Marcy, who he briefly meets in a café. He duly chases up on her to Soho (NYC, not London of course) where she lives. What follows is a chain of events that becomes the most unpredictable and nightmarish night of Paul’s life, as he becomes sucked into a series of weird encounters with a motley crew of the craziest characters lurking in the New York night. As he tries harder to escape from each one, and the tragic comic scenario they bring with them, Paul finds himself further away from home, and in an even more complicated pickle than he was in before. His simple desire to escape merely leaves him more frustrated, questioning and embroiled in a very, very inconvenient tangled mess of madness. In essence, Paul’s dreaded night, and the premise of After Hours, represents the feel of a horrible scenario where nothing goes right and trouble can suddenly occur out of nowhere.

With the assortment of characters and craziness of the situations Paul finds himself in, After Hours brims with potential for eccentric humour, generally of the dark kind. The underworld of Soho also gives it a dark, edgy texture, as though you are subtly reminded that the protagonist is very much immersed in a frustrating place within which he has no control over whatsoever. For instance, the women he meets are crazy and mental, despite initial promising impressions. He tries to be nice, but ultimately, he simply cannot relate to their warped madness. Hugely symbolic in terms of mirroring institutions? Or just a blunt reference?! You decide! Either way, the mishaps are hilarious and real, And most importantly, he is passive, trying to do the right thing, almost naïve in his innocence, yet matters get increasingly worse, through no fault of his own. Everybody and everything that influences his night is an external, overbearing influence, deciding how his fate is going to turn out.

Sound familiar? It is supposed to, subtly. After Hours, and Paul’s hellish night, represent you and I at our most frustrated and fed up, living our lives as they are influenced by people and institutions that we don’t know and simply don’t relate to. In a sense, it’s a sly reference to bureaucracy, as it is Scorsese’s interpretation and adaptation of Kafka’s ‘The Trial’. In a situation where pen pushers and overarching institutions can have the most profound influence on how we lead our lives without us realizing it, it is easy to become exasperated and wonder why it affects you, and most importantly, how do you try to run away from it all. Most often, you realize you cant, and the futility and valiancy of it all is the most galling part. Where ‘The Trial’ bluntly illustrated all of this politially, the brilliance of After Hours is turning this into a hilarious, whacky spin on what can be a pretty irritating reality for us mere mortals. Dunne’s portrayal of Paul is an endearing one too, which makes us develop a clearer affinity with what he (or we) have to contend with.

It is said that Scorsese became very passionate about developing After Hours during production. This was due to the fact he was at a very frustrating crossroads in his career at the time, being at loggerheads with studios, and being boxed into situations that were out of his control. He clearly wanted to show those career frustrations by exercising that in the themes of After Hours. Armed with clear stylistic touches and a focused noir sensibility, it became a highly entertaining and uniquely eccentric dark comedy, with tangibly intelligent and relevant underpinnings in those very themes.

It is dark, comedic and very satirical. And building from the vein of Kafka, the weirdness and darkened New York underworld add to an unnerving tension and paranoia, which is evened out superbly given the punctuated laughs, and proves the film is an example of masterful filmmaking. Overall though, with all of this combined, and knowing that this film relates to you, the daring originality of After Hours means it is extremely gripping and rewarding, and will leave you with plenty to stew on. It was also at the era where arguably Scorsese was at his best, and without doubt for this film, his most leftfield. So join the very small cult, and boast that you have now seen it. Unmissable.

And one more thing. Leonardo DiCaprio isn’t in it. So thank Christ for that.