Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

Open's Vera Brozzoni has hot-footed it to her native Italy for the 66th Venice Film Festival, from where she'll be writing exclusive reports, reviews and behind-the-scenes buzz. Here, she reviews Werner Herzog's remake of Bad Lieutenant

How do you remake an iconic film that launched its visionary director (Abel Ferrara) and its leading man (Harvey Keitel) into the empire of super stars, and has set a new standard for Christian iconography in cinema? Easy: you make your own film no matter what. Which is exactly what wild genius Werner Herzog has been doing throughout his career. So it shouldn't be surprising that his version of Bad Lieutenant is so different than Ferrara's.
 
We still have Terry McDonagh (a stooped and greasy-haired Nicolas Cage) as a foul-mouthed, corrupted, addicted lieutenant who tries to pull too many strings at a time.
His prostitute babe Frankie (Eva Mendes) provides him with some comfort and, yes, love. But dope is what really makes his world spin around - until it takes over.
Terry, amidst the investigation of a slaughter that took place in a New Orleans ravaged by hurricane Katrina, starts having visions of iguanas and dancing souls. Debts pile up. Baddies of various shape and colour invade the scene. Police colleagues turn out to be as corrupt as Terry.

Is there a way out? Yes, and it's hilarious. Is there a God? No. Man does not need one. This is the big difference between Herzog and Ferrara: whilst the latter finds solace (and film endings) in divine visions, Herzog trusts that man can make it by himself. From this perspective his whole oeuvre is an anti-search for God, a refusal of anything sublime and transcendent.
There is enough God within Man, and bad lieutenant Terry McDonagh, forced by the strength of his own free will to go on and on, knows it all too well.
One more question - do fish have dreams?