Director, Writer, Editor:
Zale Dalen
Producer: Laara Dalen
Cinematographer: Ron
Orieux
Music: J Dodd, Linton
Garner
Highlight Communications; 94min; color
Cast:
David Peterson (John
Collins), John Lazarus (Brent Solverman)
Back when Canada’s tax shelter
movement was in full bloom, which encouraged dentists and lawyers to make
movies with a 100% tax write-off, there were still films that didn’t attempt to
be ersatz Hollywood commercial product, which was the norm for tax shelter
fare. Take Skip Tracer. This
unsettling work opened in 1977 to good reviews on the festival circuit, and
then, like all Canadian cinema not done by David Cronenberg, didn’t play well
at the box office and slipped away, only to be occasionally revived in
second-run venues whenever they do a “Best of…” Canadian retrospective, or to
be shown on Bravo (when they still showed films to honour their CanCon
requirements, instead of “Flashpoint” reruns. It only once made a fleeting
appearance on home video (released to VHS under the title Deadly Business).
Skip Tracer is guerilla
filmmaking at its finest. Shot in
roughly a month in the fall of 1976 for $145, 000, this is a lean, mean movie
that unsparingly depicts the dirty things people must do to make a living. Our “hero” is John Collins, a repo man
who is in a slump. Usually he is
the top man of the year in terms of successfully collecting from delinquent
debtors. During his downtime, he
shows the ropes to an eager young man, Brent Solverman. Through Collins, we
learn that the trick to surviving this business is to be heartless.
Collins is a quick-witted
cynic who seldom finds anything cheerful in his life. When I first saw this film, I wasn't too crazy about David
Peterson's performance: I thought he was straining too hard- straining with too
much emphasis in his dialogue. On repeated glances, however, I realize that
this is probably how Collins would act- playing over the top to perhaps
disguise his shallow interior.
Sometimes Collins doesn’t
practice what he preaches, as there are moments when he lets his humanity
precede his call of duty. Perhaps it is for this reason that he is no longer is
the top dog of the company; as a result he no longer has a private office, and
his effects have been moved to the common, open concept section of the bureau.
It seems that Collins is as much at war with the competition in the office as
the people who owe money. Most tellingly, he gets stabbed by someone he
attempts to collect from.
The key to Skip Tracer’s
success is its constant element of surprise. The identity of his assailant
remains unsolved. Even the
resolution of his consistent efforts to collect from a recurrent foil named
Pettigrew, is shocking. We are
mostly observing a few moments in Collins' life. Therefore the film is as disjointed and uneven as life is,
just as in the films of John Cassavetes or his greatest disciple, Rob
Nilsson. All scenes in the film
serve less to tell a story than to witness different facets of his character. A more conventional film would naturally
have the identity of the stabber resolved, or Collins' new partner would come
to his rescue (if anything, Brent practically disappears from the plot, just as
life could have it). This incident
nonetheless is the catalyst for Collins’ change in character.
Not too long before this
scene, Collins is subtly trying to tell a client to get a loan through a bank
instead of through his company, because the man would get charged a higher
interest rate by this firm. After
he recuperates from his wound, Collins adapts a "fuck you" approach
to everyone: the clients who always give him the runaround, and the agency that
is always screwing him.
This striking film is
written, directed and edited by Zale Dalen and produced by his wife Laara. The film is mostly shot in long, single
takes, which add to the element of surprise. The frame is so wide that anything
could intervene. One memorable
segment features Collins hammering away at a drain pipe that one of his
deadbeats is hiding in. It is so
uncomfortable to watch, as there are no safe cutaways- you are being forced to
watch just what Collins puts up with in his daily routine. But also Dalen has a great eye for
detail. Occasionally he will
cutaway to involuntary gestures that people make, so you can really tell what
they're thinking behind all that tough talk.
Filmed in canvases muddy
browns and heightened whites, Skip Tracer has a washed-out look that
compliments the gritty material.
Shot in the less picturesque avenues of Vancouver, this film is also an
impressionistic essay about the cramped world in which Collins lives. His realm is a claustrophobic office
space with papers a mile high, a tiny bachelor apartment, seedy strip joints,
bungalows with crying kids and expensive TV sets, and flat undeveloped suburbia
with fancy houses in which ten-cent millionaires hide.
Skip Tracer puts to shame
most of what passes itself off as Independent cinema today. In contemporary usage, this term has
been homogenized enough so that films with commercial ambitions made by smaller
studios fall under this banner. It also puts to shame the mitigating factors
that affect much of our country’s artists. After the critical success of this
film, Zale Dalen’s follow-up picture, The Hounds of Notre Dame, was poorly
handled, and has largely remained unseen, even in the usual slipshod ways in
which Canadians must stoop to view their own country’s cinema. Dalen’s resume
of sporadic feature films includes the futuristic punk fantasy Terminal City
Ricochet, and the unreleased ensemble romantic comedy, Passion. Like many of
our filmmakers who remained north of the border, he had spent much of his
career directing television, as the feature films got fewer and further
between.
Nonetheless, Skip Tracer
is a dark horse milestone in Canadian cinema. It is a movie that didn’t deserve
its early retirement from the limelight, but still, because it is an unsettling
piece that one never truly shakes off, it keeps re-entering our psyche for play
dates on the revival circuit. However you can see this, Skip Tracer is
essential viewing.
(updated from a piece in ESR #3)
3 comments:
This is my favourite Canadian movie.
This is my favourite Canadian movie.
This is my favourite Canadian movie.
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