if LT wanted to be forgiven, he didnt have to give the rapists 30 grand
he shouldve taken them in custody, and given the 30g to a charity. alot better than letting two crackhead rapists free
shareFerrara is saying something quite radical with this film. And I think this very issue is addressed in Lt's encounter with the nun toward the end.
Keitel's character is not meant to be viewed as just some particular person who happens to be quite dissolute and depraved, an anomaly; rather, he is nothing more or less than the prototypical sinner, i.e., he represents man, and man is hopelessly degenerate. There is no hope for redemption in this world, in our present state. Lt finds himself deep in debt, but, by the end of the film, he realizes that all the money in the world isn't going to free him from the burden of his real debt. The only course of action, as suggested to him by the Lund character and by the nun, is to sacrifice himself for these two wretched sinners.
Now the question you raise above is raised by Lt himself to the nun. He says, in effect, "OK. You forgave them. That's the Christian thing to do and all. But these guys are dangerous rapists who are going to brutalize someone else. It's insane to just let them go." The nun answers with silence. We can take this ambiguously or we can take it as her way of saying that the things of this world really don't matter. And remember what the Lund character tells him, that nobody is going to understand. What Lt does will appear incomprehensible, even immoral, but that doesn't matter.
In another thread, some people had reservations about Lt's behavior immediately after his "talk with Jesus." Again, though, I don't think the idea is that he has just had this religious experience and now he's going to change his ways and be a better man and save Tiny Tim. The fact is that he is still a rotten human being, in the grip of every form of human vice, and necessarily so: he can no more change his nature than he can move a mountain. There is no hope for him -- in this world. The only way for him to find his life is to lose it, to sacrifice himself for two slimy good-for-nothings. If these two men are not worth his mercy, how can he, who is surely no better, expect any from God?
"Keitel's character is not meant to be viewed as just some particular person who happens to be quite dissolute and depraved, an anomaly; rather, he is nothing more or less than the prototypical sinner, i.e., he represents man, and man is hopelessly degenerate."
Brilliant analysis. Everyone should read it, maybe you could restate this and title it "The Meaning of The Film", because so many people are dismissing BL as horrible or laughable. Even I saw it as only one man's journey. This was the first time I realized why I related to LT. He is us, in all our ugliness, depravity, and helplessness to our nature. I am not a drug addict, alcoholic, or degenerate gambler, but I have experienced the despair and downward spiral of LT, which some felt was over-the top. I felt it was realistic. The song at the end "I'll forever love you" indicates that he is forgiven, so in a way, as dark as it was, it had a happy ending.
"The song at the end 'I'll forever love you' indicates that he is forgiven, so in a way, as dark as it was, it had a happy ending."
A keen observation! Keitel dances in a trance-like way to that song -- "Pleding My Love" by Johnny Ace -- in another film, MEAN STREETS; and I imagine that this is what suggested to Ferrara its inclusion in BAD LIEUTENANT, Keitel also playing a Christ figure in the Scorsese film. But it's an eerie song, to me at least. It became even eerier to me when I read that Johnny Ace died at a young age in a game of Russian roulette (although he may have just been drunk).
I say all of this because the eerie ambivalence of that song seems to encapsulate the similar feeling-quality of the ending. Redemption is promised, but all we're left with is a fresh corpse of a sick, broken man, surrounded by gawkers on a dirty metropolitan street, none of whom understand his life or death. The only life we really know is this one, right here, and we're being told that it's nothing, that it's rotten. That there's something else, something besides it and beyond it, is only a hope and a promise; we can't see it for ourselves, and Ferrara isn't going to feign to show it to us.
But when I think of that scene with the gawkers, I think of the standard audience reaction to the film, because the latter demonstrates scarcely more understanding of Lt than those people in the street. And no more should be expected: remember what the Lund character says -- no one is going to understand, perhaps not even those who witnessed it all. I think the trick to understanding the film is to identify with the main character, but of course most people are never willing to own up to their dark side, certainly not when they're expecting 90 minutes of innocuous diversion.