34. Bringing Out the Dead

Suffering without redemption. That would be an adequate way of describing Bringing Out the Dead, a movie about solitude, fear and anguish that never supplies the viewer with easy answers for the painful dilemmas of its characters. And, in fact, that would be impossible, considering they live in a New York full of shadows, ghosts and nightmares - - a much more claustrophobic view of the city than the one seen in Taxi Driver, another masterpiece directed by Martin Scorsese and written by Paul Schrader. However, while Robert De Niro’s Travis Bickle tried to sublimate his disgust for what he saw through isolation and violence, Nicolas Cage’s character desperately tries to find someone who can share his pain.

Faithfully adapted from Joe Connelly’s book, Bringing Out the Dead is a movie about characters, not about plot. The relationship between its metropolitan castaways is not a point of the story, but it’s the story itself. And Scorsese involves us with such ability that the comic relief spread throughout the movie has an interesting effect: while we’re laughing at the absurdity of certain situations, we feel embarrassed for laughing at all the  tragedy we’re witnessing.

Playing the paramedic Frank Pierce with an eternal expression of fatigue, Nicolas Cage creates a perfect portrait of a man whose strengths have ended a long time ago and who  can only keep working thanks to threads of occasional hope. The causes of his suffering, however, are not the consequence of stress or the shock caused by the constant presence of death. The irony is far more subtle: what Frank can’t realize is that he’s is pain by his own choice -- nobody asked him to feel for the victims he rescues (a point brilliantly made in one of the most touching scenes of the movie).

Not many movies can awaken such intense -- and troubling -- feelings in the audience. Unfortunately, that’s probably what made Bringing Out the Dead “overlooked.” It’s a good thing YOU can change that now. (Pablo Villaca)