‘Don’t bury me on a Saturday.’
A teenage sleepover favourite, Flatliners holds a very special place in my heart. It reminds me of a very specific time in my life and has a very specific feel. That doesn’t mean it’s a good film, because it isn’t, not really. It is a nostalgic trip down late 80s and early 90s cinema lane; a mixed bag of a movie, with a really unique tone and a lot of style over substance.
Med students Nelson (Keifer Sutherland), Rachel (Julia Roberts) Joe (William ‘Billy’ Baldwin) Steckle (Oliver Platt) and Labraccio (Kevin Bacon) use school property, space and resources to play God to try and prove there’s an afterlife.
I am not sure they succeed in this, but they do prove that you’re always haunted by something, and the ways to dispel your ghosts can range from facing your demons, forgiving yourself to righting your wrongs.
Not all wrongs are equal in the afterlife, though. While Nelson has to forgive himself for the death of Billy Mahoney (Joshua Rudoy) a kid him and his friends basically murdered, and Rachel has to let go of her grief over the suicide of her veteran junkie dad, Joe and Labraccio get off lightly. Joe is ‘haunted’ by the many women he secretly films having sex with, and Labraccio must atone for picking on the still very much alive Winnie Hicks (Kesha Reed / Kimberley Scott).
Joe’s ghostly conquests (who are all as alive as Winnie Hicks is) disappear as soon as his fiancé finds out about them and dumps him. Labraccio finds Winnie and her acceptance of his apology stops her ten year old self from verbally abusing him on the subway.
The set design is very, very odd. The hospital they are doing their training in looks like the British museum. There’s vast, high-ceilinged rooms full of huge statues and Grecian columns. Nelson lives in a huge apartment that’s lit with blue florescent tubes on the floor. The streets are run down and mostly empty apart from the occasional passing car. The students go to a shop in where I think is supposed to be Chinatown and buy drinks from a bodega that looks like it’s made from wooden pallets. The entire town seems to be under some kind of construction project...everything is covered with Dexter-style plastic sheeting and there’s beacons and no entry signs all over the place.
It’s set in the autumn, on the days either side of Halloween, and at least it looks like they filmed it at that time of year. It looks cold and the leaves are turning.
Oliver Platt gets all the good lines in a truly terrible, clunky script and delivers them wonderfully. Though his character is a bit of a pompous, pretentious prick, he’s also kind of likeable.
The other performances, for the most part, do well with the terrible writing. Nelson, while not as awful as Mark from Possession or Guy (hissssssssssss) from Rosemary’s Baby, he’s still pretty terrible and you never get to find out if ghost Billy clobbering him over the head with a crowbar makes adult him see the error of his egotistical, selfish, bullying ways. I have my doubts.
William Baldwin smoulders like the embers of a 5th of November bonfire, Julia Roberts does that voice-cracking, hand-wringing thing that she does when her character is in emotional turmoil and Kevin Bacon….well…he does his best. His character is at least not a pompous prick, egotistical bully or creepy sex-pest. He does however sport one of the worst haircuts in movie history.
Despite it’s many flaws, I still love this film. It will always remind me of going to Blockbusters to rent it for the tenth time, and then stocking up on snacks like vice versas (remember those?), of being fourteen and trying to figure out which of us was the least likely to be asked for ID if we wanted to buy booze.
Content warning: suicide, intravenous drug use, the dog dies (another one, sorry) Kevin Bacon’s mullet.
Final thoughts: Winnie Hicks is doing just fine for herself, thank you.
