The fragility of one’s security in the underworld lingers like a malicious plague. Drug dealing is a sinister trade that builds someone’s legacy as fast as it ignites it. As someone who used to languish within such an odious world, it’s rather common to witness such a downfall. The world of vice is a rather volatile practice. Kim Bodina’s portrayal of our main lead, Frank, capture’s how truly demoralizing such a shocking collapse of security can become. His existence of making money for his Serbian boss, storing his cargo with his girlfriend, and partying with his best friend seem like an intoxicating dream that never seems to end. Nicolas Winding Refn has always loved crafting neon infused environments for his masculine dregs to fall apart in. I’ve enjoyed watching how he has used his platform to turn caricatures of evil into spellbinding displays of violence. This first outing practically lays the groundwork for his entire career. This version of Refn chooses a more subtle path while sharing details of Frank’s life. The various threads of his past rising with frightening pace after the drug deal in question goes awry. What fascinates me about this process is how utterly uneventful it is. Refn trades grandiose Hollywood structure to show how pitiful the “drug deal gone awry” truly is. We are never given the chance to even soak in the shaky existence the character’s have built for themselves. The pathetic nature of watching Frank constantly misfire fills me with existential dread. I practically sweat as I reflect on my own idiocy in my time as a delinquent. The unruly and chaotic direction of the low budget visual style adds to the feverish tone of the entire process. What’s frustrating to me is the impatience of our character. His inability to slow down and rationalize his next move constantly sets him up for vicious encounters.
The two scene’s that perfectly encapsulate the nihilism of this downfall involve the suicide of a junkie and the hassling of a woman for money when he already owes her. Frank and the Serbian hitman, Radovan, go out in search of ways to pay off Frank’s debt. Frank, being the desperate man he truly is, tells him of a potential client who owes him a large sum of payment. Right before they arrive there is a lovely sequence where they talk about what they would do if they weren’t intertwined with the underworld. Radovan, a complete sociopath, surprises us with a wholesome answer by saying he would make kebabs and open a restaurant. This surprising dissonance becomes cemented further when they torture said client. Due to the lack of funds and desperation of our main character they settle on forcing the man to go through with a bank robbery. An intense ten-minute sequence ensues where we watch them emotionally rattle this man into doing their deed. Where Refn, correctly, strays from formula are how this all ties together. Most directors would have us indulge this fantasy as if it were an action sequence. The “cool” protagonist is doing what’s necessary per say. Instead, the client shoots himself in the head with the gun he was provided. I’ve always found this detail so mesmerizing. It genuinely shocks me everytime I see it. It’s such a complete one eighty from where we expect it to go. Everytime I show this film to friends I find enjoyment in the shock that splashes onto their expressions. In my opinion, the shot in this low-lit brutalist chamber, as our characters process what happened covered in brain matter, perfectly caters to transitioning the film to the bottomless pit portion of the downfall. This is the world these men inhabit, sadly. Even with their dreams as stated earlier they are tied to this barbarism. There is no heroics. There is no redemption. This is the desperation of a loser manifesting before our eyes as he flounders from one bad decision to the next. This point in the film is when we truly come to understand how Frank truly operates. He will not own up to his actions. He will abuse every option until he can find the correct exit strategy from this nightmare he languishes in. His time in the dream of fast money is collecting what is due. As I’ve learned from my experience as an addict, this is something all people who exist in this world must eventually confront.
The sequence involving Frank harassing a woman who gave him money is surprisingly his most demonic. This poor woman simply has been used by this man. I have never been a giant fan of Refn and his use of women as characters. His later work tends to be quite vapid and hollow when it comes to handling them. Yet, here, the depth of his character’s financial depravity leaps forward as we see his willingness to exhaust this woman’s time for something she doesn’t have. Surprisingly, I think this early effort is one of the few times I’ve watched Refn and felt his use of a non male character was fairly poignant. They are not used to accentuate further violence. I find here that Winding Refn instead captures a very distinct grime with the tone of this scene. The toxicity of the men in his pusher trilogy has a grain of realism that leaves me completely uncomfortable. I appreciate the unapologetic viewpoint of male behavior, especially considering this was a film in the 1990’s. The medium angle of the shot creates this cold detachment as they argue. The way he holds on to her eyes as they intensely argue feels claustrophobic. There is a karma to this sequence that pays off though. In the middle of arguing he is found by Radovan and has his car invaded. Refn’s camera puts Frank in the lower position of the frame as Radovan threatens to cut his throat. The mistake was attempting to sell him fake cocaine in return for less debt. A truly “frank act”. The subtle depression on Frank's face when Radovan leaves the car is what I find absolutely striking. He doesn’t lash out. He doesn’t attempt to leave this life for good. He just stares off as his girlfriend enters the car after being told to sit outside. The futile acceptance of his ending being near reverberates through our core with just one shot. I find it mesmerizing how uncompromising Refn is with these sequences. His unflinching commitment to an uncompromising look at the criminal lifestyle is harrowing and Enthralling.
Ultimately, Rrefn’s commitment to the details is what secures such a memorable crime thriller. The entire process was shot on digital due to constraints with Danish union hours and a strained budget lending to a very ugly, muted look. The actor who plays Radovan, Slavko Labovic, apparently was friends in real life with a Serbian war criminal. These small details help illustrate the devilish nature of this world and the commitment is what makes this low budget thriller stand out amongst a lot of its competition from the 90’s for me. The ugliness of these men is unrestrained, and you could even say that this film is far from “idolizing” anything within the confines of what happens. I think this is a masterwork debut for a filmmaker who would go on to craft more nightmarish worlds of toxicity, destruction, neon infused backdrops, and deviant subjects. Bravo.
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