Considering how long I’ve been writing this editorial series, it’s wild that this is the first entry tackling Brian De Palma. While there’s a history of contentious reactions to his works (primarily from feminists in the 70s and 80s who accused him of misogyny for his often brutal treatment of female characters), aside from Adrian Lyne, De Palma is easily one of the most significant directors to work on mainstream Erotic Thrillers.
Body Double is a solid entry in his filmography. It is also incredibly representative of his filmmaking interests in that it focuses on doubles, deep focus/split screens, Hitchcockian themes of obsession, sex and voyeurism, and, finally, a mystery murder that is more complicated than it initially appears.
For first time viewers, it might be surprising to learn that star Melanie Griffith does not appear until well past the one hour mark, after her doppelgänger, Gloria Revelle (Deborah Shelton), has been brutally murdered. In this way the film is loosely split in two: before Holly and after.
In the first half, claustrophobic actor Jake Scully (A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors’ Craig Wasson) discovers that his girlfriend is cheating on him and moves into the gold standard of Hollywood bachelor pads, courtesy of acquaintance Sam Bouchard (Gregg Henry). The swanky set-up includes a rotating bed, aquarium, well-stocked bar, and – naturally – a telescope to capitalize on the expansive view.
Before his departure, Sam ensures that Jake takes note of one specific sight: a stunning brunette who performs a daily striptease in front of her wide-open windows. But when Jake notes that Gloria is being observed by an “Indian” man (ah, the problematic 80s), he embarks on a voyeuristic odyssey to protect her.
Body Double is famous for several key sequences. First there is Jake’s attempt to tail Gloria when she leaves her house to go to the mall and buy lingerie. It’s a long, drawn-out affair involving migrant tree-cutters, underground parking attendants, and a store employee who is not nearly concerned enough about the dual peeping toms observing her clientele.
De Palma and cinematographer Stephen H. Burum shoot the mall sequence in long or extreme long shots. Considering how innocuous most of this drama is, as characters spy on each other, the direction and editing (courtesy of Gerald B. Greenberg and Bill Pankow) do a masterful job of elevating the cat and mouse affair. All of the running up and down escalators is the visual double of another stair-dominated sequence later in the film when Jake tracks Gloria to an isolated beach house built into the side of a hill.
The other notable sequence is, of course, Gloria’s murder. As Jake watches through the telescope, the woman is attacked in her apartment. As he sprints through the Hollywood Hills, Gloria is first strangled with her telephone cord, then brutally penetrated (offscreen) by a massive phallic drill that literally cuts through the ceiling to leak blood.
It’s a virtuoso sequence: the murder is incredibly tense despite its somewhat inevitable conclusion, as well as its slasher-esque sexualized violence. And while Gloria’s death is brutal and unrelenting, it confirms Jake’s responsibility in the proceedings: as the police note, had he simply owned up to his fetishistic voyeurism earlier, Gloria might still be alive.
While it’s easy to dismiss the detective because he is so smug, he’s not wrong. Jake then basically doubles down on the wrong idea for the last act of the film, when he takes it upon himself to “solve” the case and track down Gloria’s body double.
Enter porn star Holly Body.
It’s an understatement to say that Griffith is pretty fantastic in the role. She brings a spunky feistiness that energizes the film following Gloria’s murder (be prepared to lament her limited screen time). It doesn’t hurt that her introduction coincides with a stylistically fun sequence as De Palma briefly immerses audiences (without warning) in a porn narrative as Jake goes undercover. The film-within-a-film is a completely different movie (by design), but it is so fun, breezy, and, yes, sexy that one wonders if, like Wes Craven, De Palma could have made a career shooting porn.
The introduction of Holly naturally plays into the mysterious (not quite femme fatale) aura of the character. Naturally she becomes Jake’s new obsession, though Body Double fails to flesh her out or give her agency. In this way, Gloria and Holly represent the dual sides of Jake’s obsession with the Madonna (Gloria)/whore (Holly) complex.
While underdeveloped female characters would normally be lamentable, in Body Double it makes sense. The narrative is all about Jake’s ill-advised desire to “play” the hero – a role that effectively contributes to Gloria’s death and nearly gets Holly killed in the climax. It’s pretty self-aware of DePalma and co-writer Robert J. Avrech to play on the former’s reputation for mistreating female characters by making the whole film about the male lead’s insecurities and inefficiencies.
As we’ve discussed in previous entries, Erotic Thrillers owe a great deal to Film Noir, which – thanks to the Hays Code – tended to end by reinforcing a morally black and white view of the world. Body Double refuses this script: not only does Holly disapprove of being forced into Jake’s crusade and nearly being buried alive, but the pair don’t wind up together. And while the end of the film confirms that Jake has overcome his claustrophobia and returned to work, the final scene plays like it is gently mocking Jake’s B-movie role as a pervy vampire who is still working with body doubles.
In this way, Body Double works both as a great Erotic Thriller, and as self-aware meta commentary by De Palma about the subgenre and his own reputation within it. That’s pretty clever.
Sex Crimes is a column that explores the legacy of erotic thrillers, from issues of marital infidelity to inappropriate underage affairs to sexualized crimes. In this subgenre, sex and violence are inexplicably intertwined as the dangers of intercourse take on a whole new meaning.
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