Harvey Keitel plays a NYPD Lieutenant that looks and acts professional on the scene, but off the clock is addicted to drugs, sex, and gambling. He takes advantage of the authority his badge gives him to make deals with criminals to get drugs and dirty money, but nevertheless he acquires a great debt to a shark and owes money to a lot of dangerous people. When a nun (Frankie Thorn) is brutally raped in a church by two youngsters, the The Lieutenant is affected by her religious principles and asks Jesus to help him and guide him away from sin. Though drawn to the victim, Keitel spends almost no time trying to nail the perpetrators and instead seeks forgiveness from a higher power. Bad Lieutenant isn't meant to be a plausible cop thriller, but more of a psychodrama- a look into the debauchery-soaked life of one of New York's finest.
In an eight-minute scene that is arguably the most infamous of the movie, The Lieutenant stops a couple of teenage girls on their way home from a disco and coerces them into performing an indecent mime show while he stands there, masturbating. By creating a movie so explicit, Ferrara turns the audience into reluctant voyeurs. He sends Keitel so far over the line that the film becomes a giddy freak show, almost comedic at times in its transgression. What's most shocking about this dark urban fantasy is not the subject matter at all, but the fact that it is driven by a true artist's fervor. As played by Keitel, The Lieutenant is the most profoundly depraved movie character since Dennis Hopper's Frank Booth in Blue Velvet. Though his character here is far less conflicted than Mean Streets' Charlie, there are some parallels to be drawn. The overarching moral presence of the Catholic church certainly feels like a Scorsese hand-me-down, but Ferrara seems to be saying something much different with it: maybe the only true thing in our lives is sin.
In an eight-minute scene that is arguably the most infamous of the movie, The Lieutenant stops a couple of teenage girls on their way home from a disco and coerces them into performing an indecent mime show while he stands there, masturbating. By creating a movie so explicit, Ferrara turns the audience into reluctant voyeurs. He sends Keitel so far over the line that the film becomes a giddy freak show, almost comedic at times in its transgression. What's most shocking about this dark urban fantasy is not the subject matter at all, but the fact that it is driven by a true artist's fervor. As played by Keitel, The Lieutenant is the most profoundly depraved movie character since Dennis Hopper's Frank Booth in Blue Velvet. Though his character here is far less conflicted than Mean Streets' Charlie, there are some parallels to be drawn. The overarching moral presence of the Catholic church certainly feels like a Scorsese hand-me-down, but Ferrara seems to be saying something much different with it: maybe the only true thing in our lives is sin.