For the better part of a decade, Nicolas Cage has sauntered through a plenitude of dopey, dead-weight, mid-major action films. But like a true savior, Werner Herzog has turned Cage from the dark side – still sensing good in him – and given the 45-year old actor one of the greatest roles of his career as the reckless, off-kilter and just plain bad, post-Katrina Lieutenant Terence McDonagh.
After a rare bout of heroism during the opening scene in Werner Herzog’s crazily trigger-happy Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (an update of Abel Ferrera’s 1992 film), our titular subject and plainly described antihero suffers an evidently permanent back injury. His chest now slinks to one side, his gape more deliberate, his appearance more fatigued – the pain becoming impervious to the delicate relief of the merely prescribed pain medication. Such is the life of New Orleans’ most vulnerable powder keg of a police officer, and that’s before being placed in charge of a brutal quintuple homicide case.
With stress on the job and in his lower back, McDonagh takes advantage of his employee discount and acquires a taste for a more radical dose of painkillers. With the help of a cooperative yet cautious co-worker (Revolutionary Road’s Michael Shannon) and offenders who would like to avoid jail-time, McDonagh recklessly spirals into the life of a drug-addict. Of course, drugs lead to inebriated impulsions and our Lieutenant soon finds himself buried in debt to his regular bookie (Brad Dourif) and the target of a powerful city kingpin after an encounter with a non-paying customer of his prostitute “girlfriend” (Eva Mendes) turns sour. Then, when a break in the case is revealed, placing a cooperating witness in police custody, it’s McDonagh’s job to keep him in town and out of harm’s way.
But this police business proves to be tough sledding when you’re having to dodge your backwoods alcoholic father and sister or the precarious foot-long iguanas that aren’t actually there, if you’re listening to the advice of partner Stevie Pruit (Val Kilmer). There are no pulled punches in the provocation department, and like his main character of interest, Herzog proves to be an addict of the offbeat and the eccentric.
A renowned and legendary German director and documentarian, Herzog is best known for his 70’s/80’s masterpieces Aguirre: The Wrath of God (’72), Nosferatu (’79) and Fitzcarraldo (’82). The two of those films that don’t dredge in vampire legend are warped personal character studies about men who have lost themselves in an attempt to gain something (both played by Klaus Kinski). Here, decades later, Herzog is tapping into similar fundamental material – despite the fact that, at times, it’s unclear what Lieutenant Terence McDonagh actually wants – in a nevertheless, equally disturbing and fiendishly straight-forward study about a man in a serious crisis.

McDonagh doesn't resort to usual interrogation techniques at Deshaun Hackett's (Lucius Baston) home.
But this isn’t Aguirre, or Fitzcarraldo, or one of Herzog’s better films. Its maniacal tone and schizo-comedic shape outperform and upstage the film’s weaknesses and thematic shortcomings, resulting in something categorically auteurist in its own dark and comedically stimulating way. Shot with mostly handheld cameras on location in Louisiana and parts of Southern Mississippi, “Bad Lieutenant” looks like a post-Katrina doc on law enforcement insubordination. Interior lighting is limited to window streaks and only the wide-angle scene-setters of the New Orleans cityscape really glisten. It has all the spark and finish of a direct-to-DVD release.
What Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans has in manic energy and perverse excursions, it lacks in genuine artistry. It’s a pot-fumed, pass-the-joint cult classic in the making but it never calls itself out or gives any rhyme or reason to its motives to become anything more amply deserving. Neither does Terence McDonagh ever evolve over the course of the film, and even though Nicolas Cage is absolutely brilliant at this kind of pulsating, itchy and oddball acting, he’s never fully formed – there is never that moment. Still, it’s endlessly entertaining to watch an actor like this at the top of his game after such an Eddie Murphy-like drought of substance. Like McDonagh, Cage should apply to the theory that sometimes, it’s good to be bad.













