FORGOTTEN GEMS: 1995’s “BAD COMPANY”

Three things come to mind watching Bad Company Laurence Fishburne, Ellen Barkin, and style. In many other cases , for other films this would not be a good sign, it would be a weakness, here it most certainly meant as a compliment. Bad Company carries itself through its less than two hour run time on the near visible steam wafting off its two leads, its warm summer cool, and rapid fire dialogue delivered with the kind of sterilized precision one might see in an operating room..a very stylised, and well decorated operated room, where the doctor plays Jazz to set the proper mood for his work. The movie introduces us to Nelson Crowe (Fishburne) a CIA man disavowed by the agency under a cloud of suspicion. It s precisely what got him ousted from that agency that interest Vic Grimes the creator of a corrupt firm that offers it's services in corporate espionage to the highest bidder. Grimes number two is Margaret Wells (Barkin) who instantly takes to Grimes and has other machinations of her own. What ensues is a deadly game of Cat, Mouse, and Bigger Cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The movie in some regard is a bit too detached, disavowing any real vulnerable emotion in a vacuum tight seal of unflappability, but man is it fun to watch it's two stars skulk, slither, circle, and screw each other. Denzel got all the press, attention, and adulation during the 90's , but while Washington is and was certainly his own category, so too was one Laurence Fishburne. For a guy who had carved out iconic roles in films like “Boyz n the Hood”, “Deep Cover”, and eventually What's Love Got to do with it, and “The Matrix”, Fishburne does not seem to conjure the same sort of magical recognition that Denzel's name does. Watching this movie, I was reminded of the sheer heights and depths of Fishburne’s sexiness, his charisma, his singular ability to give you a whole mood with a very simple non-descript action. Watch Laurence Fishburne sit on a couch..

Stand in an Elevator…

Admire Ellen Barkin 's leg..

Doesn't matter what it is Fishburne is doing, he is oozing self contained composure. His dialogue is terse and concise, and he imbues it with exactly the kind of direct efficacy and command needed. His enunciation is as close to perfect as one might get, and it is not simply for his own benefit as an actor. He performs the task of aiding in the creation of this near inscrutable character. It's tempting to say Fishburne carries the film alone, he's magnetic and charming enough to have been able to, but fortunately for all of us Ellen Barkin is also in this movie, and she is also quite able to carry the film. This is the equivalent of having LeBron James, and Anthony Davis, or better yet the big three in Boston seeing as though Frank Langella and a host of natural character actors like Michael Beach, Gia Carides, Spalding Gray, and Daniel Hugh Kelly fill out the rest of the cast wonderfully.

Barkin is a sneering, smirking, glaring force of nature. She is like pretty much everyone in the film ruthless, calculating and acting wise she is divine. She is both threatening, and supremely attractive, not just attractive in the sense that she looks good (tho she does) but as in the pure quality of attracting others, it’s easy to believe that despite what she is, people want to be in love with her, and around her. When she's not a cat, she's , snake, when not a snake, she's a lion. There's always something brewing under her eyes. Something deadly, but undeniably distant, and yet close, and there is a confidence and swagger that is the perfect compliment to Fishburne. Her character Margaret Wells never says as much , but it is clear from what Barkin gives us, Wells feels cheated, passed over, and deserving of all the things men around her have denied her, or refused to acknowledge on a full level in her. She walks around like she owns the place because she fully believes she can and should, and nothing the audience is shown nothing that proves otherwise. Barkin provides maybe the film's two best acting moments in the movie with neither featuring a single word. The first when the reality of a misdeed comes crashing down on her. We know this because Barkins face tells us in a muted, layered, complex, and compelling reaction that ends with a crooked smile that hints at both her devastation, and her determination.

The other comes when just as Wells seems to have gotten what she wanted, but before she can even settle into achievement of her life long pursuit, she is hit with the news she is in fact under the thumb of yet another man. Barkin’s reaction is indicative of everything she set up from the beginning. She grates underneath her skin, her chin goes down, she inhales deeply, and her eyes nearly burn a hole in the table. A beat…She then composes herself, and looks forward. Barely containing her anger, but containing it nonetheless, she swallows the ash, and then.

Barkin and Fishburne's chemistry and skill permeate, and elevate this movie, but they or the rest it's top-notch cast are far from its sole delight. Director Damian Harris (son of actor Richard Harris) punctuates his actors performances with the films stylized aesthetic, pace, and imagery. The movie is dark, and it settles but is rarely still. It broods, but the color palette, lighting and pacing make it pop. The mood and tone is cynical and straight forward but delightfully off color and funny . The movie is the rare 90’s political thriller that doesn't feature a good guy, or slink away from its own amoral world building. It's has a bevy of wonderful characterizations, and is wonderfully diverse without being heavy handed or forced. There's a black man, and a white woman, who while the movie never overtly speaks to the precarious nature of their identities within that world, it is nonetheless present and implied especially in the case of Barkin. Two gay males (one Black one White) in Hugh Kelly's Les, and Michael Beach's Tod Stapp. The parts are not thorough explorations of the interiority of their lives, but truthfully no one in this movie is. Though Michael Beach’s Stapp is especially derided and berated based purely on his sexual orientation by homophobic superiors, (and Im on the fence as to whether thats realistic or unnecessary and also realistic) the movie itself does nothing to support the characterization, and gives him a full voice. It doesn't sanctify of martyr him or Les, nor does it condense them. They are as amoral, conniving, and detached as almost anyone else in the movie, and they are definitely as cool. They survive the entire film, and Beach gets the last word over his former employers. Gia Carides's “Julie Ames” would in another film be a banal trope about gold diggers, but here though obviously no saint, (sleeping with a married man) she is what comes closest to the movies morality. She doesn't want the bribe offered to her lover, and her relationship with him isn't downplayed to justify the actions of our antagonists in protagonists clothing. it's a real and flawed relationship in a movie about a spectrum of people that goes from deeply flawed to detestable. This is what l love most about Bad Company. It lives up unapologetically to its title. The movie is as detached from emotion as its characters are from morality, but with its moral compass still attached. It is a moral film that isn't righteous. This den of immorality is cool, and sexy, and slick, but it is never once enviable or desirable in the sense that you want to be around these people for any prolonged amount of time. These are death dealers, cruel nasty, and despicable folk that use sex, charm, and deceit as currency. The film isn't interested in whether they deserve their fates as much as it is the natural progression towards them. It's exactly what you expect out of a political thriller, and some of what you don't. Sexy, smart, twisty, and sharp, and revolting at the same time. A showcase for the talents of its ensemble, and the best of political noir that deserves a revisiting.