Raising Cain (1992)

(In French, On Cable TV, March 2019) If, for the sake of argument, we consider that Brian de Palma’s best body of work roughly dates from 1976 (Carrie) to 1996 (Mission: Impossible), then Raising Cain is perhaps the last pure-crazy de Palma thriller, the last to bear his imprint absent commercial imperatives or budget limitations. It’s completely ludicrous like few of his other films, meaning that it flirts with meaninglessness but remains perversely entertaining. The first few minutes set the deliberately confusing tone, what with split personalities and dream sequences creating a constant sense of reality anxiety. John Lithgow is suitably unhinged in the lead role, playing multiple parts that are not always in his own mind. Much of Raising Cain stretches believability, with some sequences only making sense when shot in their close frame—a wider composition would make the entire thing look silly. People being dead but not really, fake-outs and dreams-within-dreams sequences ensure that the film, for all of its twists and turns, isn’t really meant to be taken seriously, and that includes the end—it’s a good thing that the film doesn’t even make it to 90 minutes, because it does feel like a big ball of nonsense by the end. In some ways, Raising Cain is perhaps the last and most depalamaesque of de Palma’s trillers… bless his twisted shrivelled heart.