Barry Champlain is a radio phone-in talk-show host in Dallas, whose no-holds-barred ideas on a plethora of social issues disturb and offend many of his callers and listeners. Is Barry a media messiah in search of truth, or a social misfit out to assault his audience ?
This is an intense, provocative character piece about a man with almost no redeeming features who at the same time seems to be onto some really profound philosophy. Though co-written and directed by Stone, this is really Bogosian's piece all the way and he gives an astonishingly hard-edged and penetrating performance from which there is no escape. Barry is at times one of the most loathsome characters imaginable, spewing bilious misanthropy at everyone around him, particularly those who care about him. But at the same time he is also strangely empathetic, hypnotic, sage, even lovable. Bogosian's hawkish features burn into the frame, with his green eyes constantly darting around as if permanently seeking an answer to some riddle. The movie is essentially an angry, self-righteous rant against all the bigotry, injustice and banality in the world, culminating in a wild three-and-a-half-minute rotating single shot of Barry delivering the ultimate I-hate-everything speech, but boy does it pack a punch. The support cast are great, particularly Greene as the ex-wife and Baldwin as the boss. Robert Richardson's keen photography manages to keep the single radio studio set looking interesting and there's a tense score by Stewart Copeland, with a moving coda featuring that endearing phone-music piece, Telephone And Rubber Band by The Penguin Cafe Orchestra. If you're unfamiliar with Bogosian, check out his amazing talent in this flick - like his contemporaries, Bill Hicks and Denis Leary, he's someone who rarely appears in the mainstream media, purely because his writing is so out there. I find Stone's movies variable; I don't much care for his big successes, but when he is more ordered and objective, as with this (or Salvador and Nixon), he is much more incisive and arresting. A great primal scream of a picture, based on a play by Bogosian, inspired by the true story of Alan Berg, a Denver radio talk show host who was murdered by neo-Nazis in 1984.
This is an intense, provocative character piece about a man with almost no redeeming features who at the same time seems to be onto some really profound philosophy. Though co-written and directed by Stone, this is really Bogosian's piece all the way and he gives an astonishingly hard-edged and penetrating performance from which there is no escape. Barry is at times one of the most loathsome characters imaginable, spewing bilious misanthropy at everyone around him, particularly those who care about him. But at the same time he is also strangely empathetic, hypnotic, sage, even lovable. Bogosian's hawkish features burn into the frame, with his green eyes constantly darting around as if permanently seeking an answer to some riddle. The movie is essentially an angry, self-righteous rant against all the bigotry, injustice and banality in the world, culminating in a wild three-and-a-half-minute rotating single shot of Barry delivering the ultimate I-hate-everything speech, but boy does it pack a punch. The support cast are great, particularly Greene as the ex-wife and Baldwin as the boss. Robert Richardson's keen photography manages to keep the single radio studio set looking interesting and there's a tense score by Stewart Copeland, with a moving coda featuring that endearing phone-music piece, Telephone And Rubber Band by The Penguin Cafe Orchestra. If you're unfamiliar with Bogosian, check out his amazing talent in this flick - like his contemporaries, Bill Hicks and Denis Leary, he's someone who rarely appears in the mainstream media, purely because his writing is so out there. I find Stone's movies variable; I don't much care for his big successes, but when he is more ordered and objective, as with this (or Salvador and Nixon), he is much more incisive and arresting. A great primal scream of a picture, based on a play by Bogosian, inspired by the true story of Alan Berg, a Denver radio talk show host who was murdered by neo-Nazis in 1984.