This page is dedicated to one of my favorite movies, Boogie Nights. It was one of the only movies made in the past few years that had any sort of a real plot - and morals - that kept you on your toes at the same time. SEE THIS MOVIE.
Here is a brief synopsis of the movie. This was taken from a British movie review and I am using it here because I couldn't have said it better myself.
The rise and fall of a porn star is not that different from the rise and fall of
a pop singer. Less travel maybe and less backstage sex. Otherwise it's the
same old fame intoxication gig, with baggies of nose dust to hasten the
tumble.
Eddie (Mark Wahlberg, aka Marky Mark) is an unambitious small town
Californian kid, who discovers that being hung like a donkey has its
advantages. Jack Horner (Bert Reynolds), no longer little and definitely out
of his corner, makes shagging flicks and is always on the lookout for fresh
talent. He discovers Eddie in the kitchens of his favorite Mexican night spot
and invites him to partake in a little on-screen nookie.
Eddie is a natural. Fucking in public doesn't bother him at all. In fact, when
he comes too soon in a scene, he offers to do it again at once. The movies
Jack makes are B blues - forget the storyline, feel the size - and the life he
leads wouldn't offend a curate's daughter. There is an air of innocence about
his attitude to what he does. He dresses like a country singer, has standard
Hollytrash accessories and yet appears asexual, affectionate with his women,
rather than pimping for them. The period is late Seventies/early Eighties.
Drugs are still sweeties and Mafia infiltration of anything goodtime has not
yet stained the wallpaper. Eddie is proud of what he calls his talent and
friendship with the other studs is thankfully free of homoerotic overtones.
This is the story of a dim guy who thinks he's bigger than the biz. He is in one
particular, but that's all.
There are many admirable aspects to the film. Paul Thomas Anderson, the
26-year-old writer-director, has taken a top shelf subject and exposed it to
the mainstream with an artistry that has no pretension and more sympathy
than you might expect. He treats the business of pornography, if that is what
this is, like the organisation of a poolside barbecue.
Ultimately, for reasons that are not immediately obvious, it is deeply
depressing. None of the characters, with the exception of Amber Waves
(Julianne Moore), Jack's live-in comfort blanket, star of his flicks and a
legally abused divorcee, has soul.