Martin Scorsese
Fuori Orario

Have you digested the Christmas lunches and dinners? Are you increasingly intolerant of all that rhetoric of sweetened good feelings that are so popular during this festive period? Well, if you're looking for a cinematic antidote, there's nothing better than to dig out and rewatch some films from years ago, which don't show their age due to the way they handle certain themes that are always relevant, if not universal. This is definitely the case with “After Hours”, directed by Martin Scorsese in 1985. A film quite peculiar in itself, considering it is often classified as a minor work by a prolific and great auteur like Scorsese, but it is well known that a director's skill shines through in these so-called minor films.

After an inexplicable (in my opinion) commercial flop like “The King of Comedy”, Martin Scorsese began shooting his new work with a limited budget, to which actor Griffin Dunne himself contributed in the role of protagonist Paul Hackett. He works as a computer programmer in an American corporation based in New York. He holds an important role in what should be a stimulating working environment, precisely in those 1980s, which were the golden age for edp processing. Just to give an idea, it was in the middle of that decade that Time magazine dedicated its cover to the PC with a DOS operating system, naming it man of the year (what a Zeitgeist...).

But Hackett, despite these great premises, feels he is not leading a fulfilling life and perhaps wants to experience the thrill of the unexpected after work (the so-called after hours). The opportunity presents itself one evening when, aided by reading “Tropic of Cancer” by Henry Miller, he strikes up a conversation in a coffee shop with a blonde stranger named Marcy (the elusive and enigmatic Rosanna Arquette). After receiving her phone number, Paul seizes the opportunity and calls her that very evening to go visit her. From that moment, he will be sucked into a whirlwind of events where, tossed here and there, his physical safety is jeopardized, although he fortunately emerges unscathed but internally marked by what has happened.

Filmed with a compelling, at times distressing pace that keeps the viewer's attention riveted, “After Hours” boasts various strengths in its setup. To begin with, the opening is quite remarkable as, to the pleasant notes of a Mozart composition, we see protagonist Hackett in full activity while illustrating some operational procedures to a newly hired colleague. Meanwhile, the colleague confides that his career expectations do not align with what he is currently doing, but Paul Hackett doesn't listen attentively; instead, his gaze observes the surrounding desks in the corporate open space. Here we have a clear illustration of the concept of worker alienation of individuals. Cinematically rendered better (and more effectively than many of Antonioni's works), in a way that various philosophical and sociological treatises on modern man's alienation in modern societies could not achieve.

Then there is a note of subtle misogyny throughout Scorsese's plot. It doesn't go unnoticed that the male protagonist encounters various women during this long night (among others, not only Marcy but also her sculptor friend Kiki and a petulant barmaid) with whom an erotic adventure might seem possible. But then, due to strange unforeseen events, everything fades, and these women pull away. You could say, in some way, naive Paul should have been more cautious, as on the wall of a restroom he entered, there was graffiti depicting a man whose penis was being severed by a shark. A daring comparison between a sea predator and a castrating woman, certainly, but the saying "forewarned is forearmed" stands with all that ensues...

Another element is the fundamental role of money. How can you justify a character like our hero who dives into the chaotic nightlife of Soho, New York City, with only a twenty-dollar bill in his pocket? Indeed, quite reckless, especially when he fortuitously loses the aforementioned bill and, having few other coins, cannot even afford the subway fare to get home. It's a shame that meanwhile, on the street, a steady rain begins, and as Paul walks, he is mistakenly identified as a burglar and chased by an enraged mob. A cynical and deceitful fate, of course, but yet another demonstration that misfortune targets the have-nots, and New York is no exception...

Finally, another aspect highlighted by Scorsese's film (and still relevant) is the dark and dangerous side of a vast, sprawling metropolis like New York. Already known, of course, from what was represented in Andy Warhol's work and his Factory in the 60s (Velvet Underground in primis). But reiterating these aspects in a film released during those 80s, filled with dazzling hedonism and Reaganite yuppies, was indeed commendable. In the end, computer programmer Hackett is a naive yuppie who finds himself in a metropolitan dimension completely alien to him, populated by a deviating and deviant fauna, too dangerous for his reassuring habits.

And, fundamentally, throughout the film, there’s an effective re-proposition of an eternal theme valid since Homer: the arduous journey that every human being makes, every day and throughout life, to reach a safe haven where they can consider themselves safe after having traversed stormy seas. A timeless theme.