DVD Roundup
Now Playing: Mikey & Nicky
Elaine May’s 1976 Mikey & Nicky, now available on DVD from HVE, feels kind of stagy, not visually, but in May’s dialogue and the rapport between the two leads, played by John Cassavetes and Peter Falk. One could imagine the movie as an off-Broadway play during the heyday of Sam Shepard and Lanford Wilson. May, of course, was a product of the theater scene, so it’s not surprising to learn from the interviews on the disc’s special features that the movie industry types were often exasperated by her actorly approach to the material. Off-and-on DP Victor Kemper and producer Michael Hausman recount the filming of one scene, in which May was oblivious to the fact that the cameras had long since run out of film, not wanting to interrupt Falk and Cassavetes’ inspired ad-libbing. In another anecdote from Kemper, May upbraids a veteran cameraman for cutting a scene in which the two had wandered out of frame because, “they might come back!”

May’s unwillingness to play by the established filmmaking rules leads to its share of amateurish mistakes, like a boom mike that comes into frame several times during a key scene, or the famous graveyard scene with an all-too-apparent lavaliere mike (Paramount head Barry Diller, finally seeing a rough cut after attempts to edit the million feet of film May shot had stretched into a two year ordeal, remarked, “I love the film…but why is there a microphone on Peter’s tie?). Other decisions, which might be seen as naive, work better, such as May’s decision to shoot the entire film in continuity at night, which expertly conveys the nightlong journey of the characters. As a whole, the film is remarkably assured, thanks to the chemistry between Falk and Cassavetes and the work of the much put-upon photographers and gaffers.

A description of the film’s premise sounds like a run of the mill crime story. Small-time hood Nicky (Cassavetes) has stolen money from his boss, who has put a contract out on him. Desperate, he calls on his oldest friend, Mikey (Falk) to help him get out of town. Mikey, torn between loyalty to his friend and boss, offers to help Nicky, but is also setting him up for the hitman (a good and creepy Ned Beatty) hired by the boss. But this is just the framework of the film, which is more concerned with the relationship between the two. Nicky is a self-destructive brat who really only cares about himself; Mikey is loyal, but has been pushed too far by the selfish Nicky, who belittles him publicly and only calls when he’s in trouble. We’ve all had a friend like Nicky—and the relationship usually self-destructs around a long dark night of the soul like the one portrayed here. The journey progresses through bars, across darkened city streets, to a girlfriend’s apartment, ending in the inevitable fistfight—and it’s almost uncomfortably familiar if you’ve been through a similar experience. Cassavetes is perfect as a handsome guy with a child's emotional maturity who instinctively sabotages every chance at salvation, while Falk evokes empathy as the put-upon friend (and makes his eventual betrayal is all the more devastating).

HVE’s transfer is quite good considering the source material, which has a grainy 1970’s verite feel which belies the experience of the crew. Extras are limited, but the interviews with Hausman and Kemper are quite good and offer insight into the film and its difficult production (Hausman’s irritation with May’s “artistic” temperament comes to the fore a number of times), giving the viewer hope that when artists and industry tradespeople get together, the result isn’t always disastrous.