Fran Magazine: Issue #107

Dennis Franz

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Dennis Franz

On Monday night, I saw Brian De Palma’s Dressed to Kill at Film Forum¹, who is doing an somewhat inexplicably run of ‘80s films right now.² At this point, I’ve seen all the major De Palma ‘80s movies outside the less loved Casualties of War (which I think I might really like) and Wise Guys (which I think I would hate). Though Blow Out is probably the undeniable best of these films, my personal favorite is Body Double, the best combination of stupid and funny and sexy and lewd. Not unlike The Insider, I could probably put this movie on at any time of day on any day of the week in any mood, and I would love it.

I liked Dressed to Kill just fine, but much less than other De Palmas I’ve seen across a few decades. It reminded me most of his 2002 film Femme Fatale, though they are not all that similar, in their degree of cruelty and stupidity and glamor. I know this movie has its fans, and I know that this movie has people who think it is terrible in part because its gender politics and approach to transness is outdated, if not outright “bad.” None of this bothers me, really; I am willing to accept trash for trash’s sake, but I never had a moment where the film felt like it was clicking into gear for me for longer than a few minutes here and there. I am always happy to see Nancy Allen,³⁴ especially when her character is suffering, say, marginally less than she does in other films.

But you know who I was REALLY happy to see in Dressed to Kill? This man.

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YES! This, of course, is De Palma regular and star of NYPD Blue, Dennis Franz. Not to be confused with the other cop Dennis, Dennis Farina.⁵

I love both of these men, of course, having been raised in a household where Law & Order or NYPD Blue was on if it was the day those shows were on. When I see either of them on the movie screen (or TV screen, or laptop computer), I am lulled into a fugue state of comfort and joy. When I went to go see Thief the other week at the Roxy, I’d totally forgotten that Farina has a (mostly, if not completely wordless) role as one of Robert Prosky’s tough guys and remembering this in real time was a thrill.

As I wrote above, Dennis Franz has a handful of roles across De Palma’s work, but Dressed to Kill feels like the Franz role that best accommodates all that he’s good for. For all his “New York cop” sensibilities, this is a man who — when you look at him — is the most Chicago-looking man of all time. In Dressed to Kill, he plays the officer investigating the murder of a beautiful housewife where he is constantly saying “non-PC” things to Michael Caine’s tortured psychiatrist and accusing the very innocent Nancy Allen of being guilty in order to make her do his dirty work for him. You can see him in action here:

The role allows Franz to be a number of things:

• skeazy

• slimy

• swaggy

• funny

I prefer Franz in Dressed to Kill than his turn in the excellent Blow Out, if only because it is most interesting and apt to watch a cop behave badly than a henchman behave badly. He is perhaps at his funniest (with very little screentime) in Body Double when playing the director of the movie within the movie, but that may depend on your bemusement at hearing someone with a distinctive Chicago accent saying the word “vampire.”

Franz has been retired more or less since the end of NYPD Blue, which for all of my Franz affection I have no real interest in watching (nor Hill Street Blues). He won a number of Emmys for NYPD Blue, which he told Conan O’Brien in an interview made him very uncomfortable because he always thanks the wrong people (he once called co-star Jimmy Smits “Steve” in a speech — it’s giving me calling my dad “Steve” on the phone vibes). For one, I am not really attracted to the police or police-adjacent procedural anymore, on account of not watching a lot of TV to begin with, let alone network TV, but when I see the odd commercial for one of those shows, I’m sort of baffled and repulsed by the juice cleanse body nature of all of those people. I understand that a degree of beauty has to be met in the world of television and film, but still, there should be room for the Franzian types who cultivate beauty through sheer distinctiveness. Guys who don’t begin to know or care about the concept of “hot water with lemon.”

I spoke briefly to longtime Twitter mutual FilmBart, who is, for my money, the #1 Dennis Franz poster, about the actor’s enduring appeal…

A consummate product of the Chicago theater, an instantly recognizable vocal and physical type capable of summoning thunderous force and piercing delicacy in the same performance. A man equally at home being photographed triumphantly hoisting an Emmy or candidly standing before a rack of Costco rotisserie chickens. When your dad says he "knows a guy," Dennis Franz is That Guy.

He also sent along this Franz interview, which I watched this morning and loved! His father was a baker allergic to flour; it doesn’t get more Chicago than that, in many ways.

That Franz had a background in theater only lends his continued seemingly low-effort attempts all that much thrilling. We don’t have a lot of straight-up theater guys anymore — Michael Shannon is one, so is Tracy Letts, but they aren’t exactly young. The young theater people struggle to break through, especially if they are, god forbid, normal-looking or not insane.

When I told my mom I was writing about Dennis Franz, she said, “Did he DIE?” On the contrary: he has never been more alive. Like all sane actors, he retired after a good run and now seems to be otherwise vibing. His turns across various De Palmas remind me of his liveliness, his unpredictability, his lack of fear in playing sleaze or scum or grime. You can see the sweat on his forehead. His clothes don’t fit quite right. In movies that otherwise feel too big for themselves, Dennis Franz’s performances ground them — knowing and silly, just like life.

1. For my money, the best rep theater membership is Film Forum — an $11 ticket in New York City is a real unicorn.

2. The series coincides with the release of Richard Shepard’s Film Geek, a memoir in movie-going, which is maybe why the programming seems kind of random at best. The trailer for the series ahead of the film makes it seem like the vibe is the “bodacious ‘80s,” which would obviously be fun, but then there’s stuff in there like Bill Forsyth’s Local Hero (<3) that I would not exactly describe as “bodacious.” Anyway, the series runs for another three weeks and seems like a lot of fun.

3. Allen seems basically content to be semi-retired/appearing in documentaries and otherwise focused on activism, but I sort of wish she’d get the kind of hoorah-bring her back into movies that Meg Ryan keeps getting (and floundering).

4. Seeing Nancy Allen’s hair in this movie also had me be like: I am going to grow out my hair again but this time I will brush it out when the curls get bad. The wave is back (?)!

5. Who was an actual cop prior to acting.