"Blue Collar" (1978), Directed by Paul Schrader: Film Review and Analysis

Paul Schrader, Writer/Director/Composer/Producer/Actor extraordinaire has had a rich career to say the least, filled with brilliant screenplays, particularly his efforts with director legend Martin Scorsese. Both "Taxi Driver" and "Raging Bull" (co-written with Mardik Martin) were nominated for Best Picture. Writing is without a doubt a strong suit of his. Schrader should (and likely does) wear a pen at all times. Even if he has arguably reached his peak eons ago, his body of work forms an important chapter in film history.

Schrader's scathing minimalistic directorial adaptation of his own screenplay, Blue Collar is a tightly wound, abrasive, thought provoking, occasionally funny film with universal commentary on the effects of social class and money on friendship and family. It is a vicious social satire that also does not take itself too seriously.

"Fuck Uncle Sam!"

The concept of the so-called blue collar working class being put down by the white collar man for a movie is nothing particularly groundbreaking or original, but Blue Collar is much too sharp to be considered cliche. Anyone can read a cookbook to produce an average meal, but only a master chef can take the same recipe and make it gourmet. Schrader not only has a good recipe to start with, but he spices it up with just the right blend of political and emotional drama, dark comedy and tense situations to craft a thought provoking work of art.

The opening credits thrust us into the hustle and bustle of the plant, the three protagonists' second home. Captain Beefheart's bombastically bluesy, rough-hided "Hard Workin' Man" drives the imagery rather than simply fade into background music. Beefheart's gruff vocals and lyrics paint an image of a weathered and hardened man of with enough wisdom and physical drive to make up for academic interest with lyrics like "When I was a school boy /  teacher said study as hard as you can / It didn't make no difference / I'm just a hard workin' man," spot on for Smokey's character.

The heavy machinery complements the pounding percussion, the pervasive electric guitar punches like power tool, and the harmonica sings the song of a hardened heart full of dread and despair. Beefheart also has a similar song from his early catalogue "Plastic Factory," a song similar both stylistically and lyrically. "Fac'trys no place for me / Boss man let me be," says Beefheart. These two simple lines succinctly sum up much of the films complex thematic elements.

Zeke sells his soul.

Character development and dynamic is undoubtedly a strength of Schrader's as can be seen in Taxi Driver and Raging Bull, exemplified equally as well in Blue Collar. Although there are three primary protagonists in the film, the plot focuses primarily on the personal lives of Zeke and Jerry. Smokey, the only unmarried man of the group, utilizes his individuality to become the bandit leader of the trio, a rabid Robin Hood with a sordid past. His shrewd street wisdom and rock hard disposition form more of a cynic than Zeke and Jerry combined.

Ruthless tendencies aside, Zeke is a loving father and husband, despite a scene of brief infidelity at a get together with his two friends (to be expound upon later). He is an ambitious man who seems much too overqualified for the grunt job he has worked for years to support himself and his family. He is frustrated about the color of his skin repressing his potential in life. Zeke knows that he is smarter, more shrewd than even his bosses, his alleged superiors and isn't afraid to show it.

Getting dressed for Halloween

The actors breathe life into Blue Collar's "oreo gang," a name coined by media speculators for the trio. Performances are strong in both lead and supporting roles, an all around well acted film. The real standout of the movie is Richard Pryor. Harvey Keitel, deservedly lauded for much of his other work (see review for Bad Lieutenant), is more subtle in Blue Collar than with many of his other cage shattering performances. His selfless caring nature, exemplified ironically by his decision to participate in an impromptu robbery simply to buy his daughter braces, contrasts with Zeke's more self-absorbed and borderline ruthless demeanor.

Before selling out to The Union, Zeke explains to Jerry how he's "thinkin' white." When asked what this meant to him, Zeke feels that Jerry has many more chances than him, and always will. Zeke sees this as his only chance, and he is determined to take it. He continues: "I'm black, Jerry. The police aren't gonna protect me. Six months after this fuckin' thing's over I'll be right back where I started from, living in some ghetto up to my black ass in bills wondering what night they're gonna come and kill the kids, Carolyn and myself." At this point he genuinely believes he can make changes within the union as foreman.

A true blue collar man

Schrader in the end, just as the foreshadowing narrative by Smokey in the opening, has pit the two together in a conflict of which neither Jerry or Zeke is necessarily good or bad, right or wrong. Destiny has dictated different paths for the former blood brothers. In the end, Zeke and Jerry point fingers at each other as if pointing at themselves in the mirror, by extension making accusations of themselves.

Blue Collar is a white collar high class achievement for Paul Schrader, as both director and screenwriter. The props don't stop there without mentioning the stellar cast and pacing. An underrated and often neglected film with complex insight into human nature's proclivity for selfishness.

Overall Grade: 8.9/10