Scott LeBrun George C. Scott is effective in this sordid tale, playing Jake VanDorn, a conservative and religious business owner in the Midwest. His daughter Kristen (Ilah Davis) goes on a "Calvinist Convention" to various other points in the U.S., including Bellflower, California. Soon he's heard that she's gone missing, and disgusted with the apparent uselessness of California police, he first hires a private detective, Andy Mast (Peter Boyle). It isn't that long before Mast unearths a bargain basement pornographic film that stars Kristen. Heartsick and enraged, Jake decides to do his own sleuthing, navigating the seedy California underworld, and eventually hooking up with a part time hooker / part time adult film actress, Niki (Season Hubley), whom he hires to assist in the search.Writer / director Paul Schrader, unlike his uptight main character, isn't afraid to explore the whole idea of sex, and the attitude that less judgmental people have towards it. The way that he immerses his hero in the non stop array of seedy environments is never less than fascinating. Some viewers can easily find it sad, and yes, off putting as well, but his material is grimly compelling nevertheless. It's all brilliantly captured on film by a talented team including production designer Paul Sylbert and cinematographer Michael Chapman. The story does have a message in it about learning to be more open minded and not so critical towards others, something that Jake has realized by the end. This is driven home by the whole relationship between Jake and Niki, which is nicely developed by Schrader, Scott, and Hubley. While the tone is mostly fairly serious, there is some humor to be found as Jake sees that his confrontational approach in pornographic places of business doesn't work, and tries ruses like masquerading as an adult filmmaker.The cast is superb. Scott anchors the tale with his sober performance, Hubley is just wonderful, and Boyle is fun to watch (in an interesting twist, Mast is actually rather sleazy himself). Dick Sargent lends a warm presence as Jakes' brother-in-law, who's concerned for his safety. There's a parade of familiar faces for viewers to enjoy: Gary Graham, Marc Alaimo, Hal Williams, Roy London, Bibi Besch, Tracey Walter, Reb Brown, and Ed Begley Jr. It's a truly gut wrenching moment when Jake recognizes his daughter in the $200 stag film, and Scott just acts the hell out of it.Some people take issue with the resolution (and, admittedly, the character who's more or less established as the villain of the piece is barely in the film), but at least Schrader refrains from making it conventionally Hollywood-happy. There's some hope for the future, but also a nagging doubt. The actors play it well.Overall, a good, solid drama.Eight out of 10.

Robert J. Maxwell Uptight Scott's adolescent daughter goes missing in Los Angeles and he plunges into the world of hardcore porn to try to find her. The musical score by Fred Nitzsche provides him with a reflective companion -- from the quiet, slightly eerie tones of an ancient church organ in Grand Rapids, Michigan, at the beginning to the shrill squeal of an electronic guitar in the depraved city.The writer/director Paul Schrader has captured the milieu perfectly at the opening in snowbound Grand Rapids. The Van Dorn family makes good solid furniture. They are earnest Calvinists. There is no corruption. Nothing is going on. The family gets together for Christmas dinner, Mamma serves the turkey, the carefully groomed children laugh, the head of the family says grace, and Normal Rockwell gets the whole scene down on canvas. It's a credible portrait of blissful innocence.When Scott's gawky daughter turns up missing on a church visit to LA, then appears in a skin flick, the movie follows Scott to LA too and it falls apart, killed by the pernicious murk. The whole narrative makes no sense. The police won't help Scott so he begins hanging around with people in the porn industry. He poses as a investor in these schlock movies. I ask you, the discerning viewer, can you believe an upright middle-aged businessman from a strict religious background could don a mustache, a wig, a necklace, and a gaudy shirt, and then pass himself off as an inside man in the skin industry? But that's just one of the movie's problems. Scott enlists the aid of a whore (Season Hubley) and promises to take care of her if she'll guide him through the blue and rose of the neon-tinted underworld. Then at the end, after a weak attempt to give her some money, he abandons her to her fate. Just two sh*ts that passed in the night. What kind of morality is that? And when, finally, he bashes through walls and brains everyone who stands in his way, he finds his daughter shivering with fright in a corner, extends his hand, and says soothingly, "Let's go home." And she lets him have a broadside. She wants to stay here in this living hell with people who love her, because Scott never loved her at home, she was never pretty enough or good enough. There is absolutely no set up for this exchange, no hint of previous discord. That scene of the family Christmas stands in direct contradiction -- everybody dumb but happy.Scott is restrained in the role of anxious, tearful, enraged father. This film seems to have begun a deflation in his career. I don't know what was behind it but after several sterling performances in the 60s, he made a series of movies of lesser interest and then disappeared entirely for a few years before showing up in a few supporting roles.No one else in the cast stands out, but probably Peter Boyle as the cynical, flawed but effective private investigator is the most believable character.Not a total loss. There are some moments of humor. The long-haired skinny young director of a skin flick is proud to be a graduate of UCLA's film school. And there is a keenly observed conversation about predetermination and sex.But it can't make up for scenes like that in which Scott first watches a hardcore movie in which his virginal daughter is gang banged and the camera lingers on George C. Scott's face slowly filling with anguish and then hate until he screams and covers his face. The shot lasts too long. Nobody could carry it off. I hate to use the word, but it all seems "dated." It's less about a man's search for his missing daughter than it is about giving the good folks of Grand Rapids a tour of the odious underworld of Hollywood's porn industry.

Steve Pulaski Paul Schrader's Hardcore features a rare performance that tows the fine line between believable lunacy and cartoonish behavior that never crosses over and subjects itself to the latter. The performance is that of George C. Scott, who plays Jake Van Dorn, a Calvinist businessman working in Michigan and serving as a single-parent to his eighteen-year-old daughter Kristen. While presumably on a church retreat to Bellflower, California, Kristen never arrives at the event, leading Jake to hire a private investigator (Peter Boyle) to try and find her whereabouts. Eventually, the investigator finds an 8mm film of his daughter and two other men around her age; it's clear just from the first frame of the film, which Jake sees at a local seedy theater, his daughter is now a porn star.Jake loses it, with enough questions, assumptions, judgments, and miscalculations racing through his mind to cripple the psyche of a dozen men. He comes to the conclusion that his daughter had to have been kidnapped to join such an underworld, and becomes dedicated to bringing her back home. He dives into California's sleazy, pornographic underworld, venturing through brothels, adult bookstores, and peep shows to find her, eventually meeting Nikki (Season Hubley), a porn star and hooker.Hardcore is the classic case of a character being immersed in a world he had no conception of and would've rather gone on pretending as if the world and all of those affected by it never existed. His tunnel-vision, conservative mindset has made it seem that since everything in his own life was perfect and completely free of any trouble, that there's no way anyone else's life could be troubled. He doesn't see problems, therefore none exist.Jake's rude awakening becomes more alarming with what he has to witness. To many audience members, presuming their braveness to already seek out such a peculiar film, the content in Hardcore isn't particularly jolting, but to Jake, it's some of the most revolting stuff he's seen in his entire life. Consider the discomfort and anxiety felt by Jake as he walks into a low-lit brothel, with pulsating, blood-red lights and wallpaper decorating the rooms and meets a young stripper, with a thick piece of glass separating them. The stripper plants both of her heels on the glass whilst sitting down, exposing her whole body for Jake's pleasure, as they communicate through the glass. Jake is beyond uncomfortable and is simply trying to get his daughter back, but in order to do so, he must subject himself to worlds he never thought could've existed.This kind of relativism makes for a deeply fascinating film, and in Schrader's screen writing and directing hands, Hardcore beams with life. Schrader includes a barrage of must-have locations for this kind of film, and captures them in a way that adheres to the principles of realism. Never does Schrader seem to go overboard in his depictions of this underworld, nor does he compromise Jake's character by making him unlikable. This is one of the first times I've seen such a close-minded, holier-than-thou, judgmental character on screen that I didn't detest; it's not entirely his fault he's been closeted to his own set of beliefs for so many years. He thought all was well and good.Scott captures this character so intensely that even his freakouts and mental breakdowns don't feel forced nor over-the-top. Scott eventually learns how to get ahead in this business, at one point going undercover as a director and interviewing male porn stars that could've perhaps had contact with his daughter. These scenes, when Scott dawns a wig, a fake mustache, and shag clothing, are completely transforming for his character, and we see a man's own personal ethics and values degrade throughout the entire film, in a slowburn fashion.Hardcore sizzles on screen, creating characters that exist, a fascinating underworld captured in details rather than in essences, and an impending sense of dread as time marches on and Jake's daughter's fate becomes more and more questionable. Much has been made about the finale, which is said to have been taken over by cautious studio executives rather than accurately reflecting the original vision of Schrader. For me, it works as a way to simmer down the film's explosiveness that it carries throughout, especially towards the end, as things intensify. The bittersweetness of the entire affair, in addition, compliments the film's nature of nothing ever totally being right or in place; not even in the beginning, as Jake is still so deeply lost in his own mannerisms.Starring: George C. Scott, Season Aubrey, and Peter Boyle. Directed by: Paul Schrader.

itamarscomix Hardcore may have been shocking and daring for its time, but it feels pretty dated now - not just the value system, but also the offbeat pacing. The pacing is indeed a problem, the ending even more so. Fortunately, the film leans firmly on two very strong pillars - effective, unnerving atmosphere, of which Schrader is still a master artist, and fantastic acting - from George C. Scott, of course, but also from Peter Boyle and, in a very surprising turn, Season Hubley.Hardcore doesn't measure up to Schrader's most renowned work, Taxi Driver - its most obvious point of comparison - but it stands up well on its own.