The Moviegoer is the diary of a local film buff, collecting the best of what Chicago’s independent and underground film scene has to offer.
Elaine May’s Mikey and Nicky (1976) is a tragic love story between two men that shows what happens when their decades-old friendship is threatened by machismo. It is, in my opinion, one of the definitive depictions of toxic masculinity in cinema, especially because it was written and directed by a woman, and even more so because May is one of the top chroniclers of flagrant chauvinism.
It was a subject top-of-mind this past week as the world was thrust yet again into another four years of darkness with Trump winning the election. When I saw A New Leaf (1971) two weekends ago at the Music Box Theatre, I was relatively hopeful (at least for a situation that didn’t involve Trump, with full acknowledgement that there was a lot left to be desired with the Democrats); after Tuesday, it felt both daunting and appropriate to be going to see Mikey and Nicky, an absolute tour de forlorn and an endurance test of despair.
The titular duo is played by Peter Falk and John Cassavetes, respectively. Many compare the film to those Cassavetes made, and while it has some similarities, I think May’s film is somehow darker and even more cognizant of the protagonist’s personal failings. Mikey and Nicky are part of a crime syndicate; Cassavetes’s Nicky is in hot water after stealing money from their boss, after which he calls Falk’s Mickey, his friend of 30 years who he’s outpaced in their gangster social circle but who still comes to his aid as he attempts to outrun the consequences of his actions.
It’s revealed early on in the course of their night together that Mikey has turned on him—routinely notifying a syndicate hit man of their location—all to get back at Nicky for leaving him behind and in an effort to get ahead himself. Outside of the broad parallels between toxic masculinity and everything happening now, I can’t pinpoint exactly why the film evoked for me other parallels between the current situation but to say that this attitude of selfishness and the forsaking of cherished interpersonal relationships seems representative of the current issues plaguing our society (even in opposite ways, as many of those now most in support of Trump had once expressed their disdain for him).
All this also to say that I wasn’t much of a moviegoer last week, my own despair unfortunately preferring solitude to community, something I’m hoping to rectify this week. Otherwise, I watched a few things at home: Clarence Brown’s Sadie McKee (1934), starring Joan Crawford, on the Criterion Channel, and, very randomly, Stuart Gordon’s Dagon (2001), with my husband. The latter put the current situation into perspective; at least we’re not up against gold-obsessed fish people worshiping a false god. On second thought, that doesn’t feel too far off.
Until next time, moviegoers.
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