Richard Gere is Julian Kaye, a cocky male escort with two pimps and a long list of clients--no men, though, for he enforces a "no f@g" policy. Julian is very good at his job, but more likely to get a hard-on while discussing stereo equipment than in thinking back to a call. Writer-director Paul Schrader is equally blasé about the act of intercourse; he focuses on Julian enjoying the fruits of his labour--trying on suits, driving expensive cars--rather than the labour itself.
The film's few sex scenes, which transpire between Gere and Lauren Hutton, playing Michelle, a senator's wife, are presented as a series of sensuous close-ups--a leg, the small of her back. Their trysts are shown because they are significant: she loves him, unlike all the others, and, whatever his own feelings (sympathy, at the start, for she pathetically begs him to sleep with her--another of Schrader's Madonna/Whore scenarios), he doesn't do her for the money.
Julian is accused of killing a socialite; Michelle can provide him with an alibi, but her coming forward would be a politically scandalous move. So Julian goes looking for a fake one, in the seedy places both he and Schrader have avoided up to that point. A stroll through a gay club, standby pimp Leon James' (Bill Duke) lair, is worth noting for its outrageous costume design--not every homosexual shows up to a bar decked out in a shirtless motorcycle outfit!
To the extent that it assured a screen career for Gere, American Gigolo was a 1980 box office sensation. (Aside: he doesn't look any younger! Dick Clark now has a run for his money.) Looking back on the film now, we see the mould for the Adrian Lyne/Alan Parker celebrations of excess to come in the decade that followed it: opulence, promiscuity, murder, betrayal, comeuppance, each spotted by diffused shafts of light.
We also see a director known for writing such gritty 'street' dramas as Taxi Driver and Blue Collar at his most morally shallow, feigning contempt for the Beverly Hills high life as he secures his status as a Major Hollywood Player. Schrader doesn't bite the hand that feeds him here; he teethes on it, wanting, one senses, Julian's lifestyle for his own. Beyond a glorification of the swank (in every sense of the word), American Gigolo has startlingly little purpose, and its sluggish pacing only underlines Schrader's indifference to the Pickpocket-inspired plot.
Paramount Home Video has made American Gigolo available on DVD. Although the studio has been churning out stellar transfer after stellar transfer lately, even of their catalogue titles, I'm afraid this disc doesn't live up to that reputation. The 16x9-enhanced, 1.85:1 letterboxed image has been artificially sharpened, resulting in a screen door of grain and many jagged edges. Alas, the print used for this transfer has its own deficiencies in the form of scuffmarks. On the pro side, contrast is strong, and dark interiors are easy to make out.
The film's Dolby Digital 5.1 remix is artificial-sounding and brittle, but also kind of fun. For example, during the opening tune, Blondie's kinetic "Call Me", the back-up singers' voices come from the rears, and the track exhibits walloping bass when called for. Surround activity is otherwise minimal, and dialogue is so weak at times as to become difficult to decipher at reference volume. A Dolby Surround mix is also included, though not, sadly, the original mono one. The only extra is a trailer. ("Richard Gere is...an American Gigolo!")
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