In his review of “American Gigolo,” the always-astute Roger Ebert said the feverishly stylish picture was really, at its core, a portrait of isolation.
“The whole movie has a winning sadness about it,” Ebert wrote.
“Take away the story’s sensational aspects and what you have is a study in loneliness.” The emptiness haunting Julian Kay (Richard Gere) is central to the story of a sex worker who adorns himself in the sleekest ’80s couture and prides himself on knowing how to please his clients, but falls down a perilous rabbit hole where transactions can no longer save him; he needs a real connection, and Julian’s not only short on bonafide friends, but he may not even know what one looks like.
Set against the superficiality of Los Angeles’ hottest clubs and richest denizens, “American Gigolo” captured not just a man going through the motions until the motions were their only meaning,
Read full article