Spurred by a combination of forces, not the least of which was a bad experience with a major studio, Figgis optioned the semi-autobiographical novel Leaving Las Vegas by John O'Brien, wrote the screenplay, attracted Elizabeth Shue and Nicolas Cage; sold the script at Cannes and went on his merry way to making the film he, at first, thought no one in America would want to see.

Dark, soft and intrusive, Leaving Las Vegas is a story of unconditional love set in the dim, flickering light of the seediest side of Las Vegas. Nicolas Cage is Ben, the alcoholic determined to drink himself to death, a job he guesses will take about four weeks. He meets a streetwalker named Sera (Elizabeth Shue) whose uncompromising acceptance of Ben's self-destructive journey creates a moment of oddly satisfying romantic proportions during Ben's descent into oblivion.

Figgis fought for the film to be shot in Super 16, enforcing his will and desire to go back to his early days as an artist.

"Personally, I like it dirty," he said when talking about his choice of formats. "At a certain point you start to question reality in the sense of how you record an image. "For example, use a Hasselblad and get this wonderful depth of field where every hair is in focus, or use something else and shoot from the hip.

"I felt that mainstream filmmaking has become more and more about that kind of clarity and image." A still photographer, performance artist, actor and filmmaker, Figgis finds a causality between the arts when describing his work in film. "It's certainly a little bizarre that painting, once it was liberated by photography, went immediately to impressionism and abstract impressionism. Cinema-- restrained by the fact that it's a narrative art form for the most part--emerges toward this crystal clear, brightly lit kind of image-making. Meanwhile, technical advances give us fast stock and fast lenses...we can virtually shoot in the dark if we wanted to, with no light at all. And nobody does that. It's very hard when you are making a studio picture because they want that clarity, but personally I like it dirty."

A 3.8 million finance deal with a French company gave Figgis 28 days to shoot. Las Vegas gave him everything but cooperation, and didn't permit him for the street scenes he needed. To avoid wasting time, Figgis simply shot around the wild sound, the scheduling conflicts and the real life female passersby screaming 'Nic!' 'Nic!' He achieved an unheard of 20 minutes between set-ups by banishing all film equipment from the set. No dollies, no tracks, no cranes. Very little was in the film truck other than cameras, lenses and film stock.

All of the camera work in Leaving Las Vegas is hand-held and tripod. Any time the camera moves, it's on a shoulder or held like a baby. The thing about the Aaton, confided Figgis, is "while it's not feather-light, it is appreciably lighter than a 35mm camerea and it's got a handle on top. You can run along with it six inches from the gutter if you want to and then bring it up to a portrait. I've done that in the past. In that sequence where he (Nicolas Cage) is freaked out in the casino, wakes up on the sofa and then goes off to the fridge? It's an amazine sequence to watch being filmed because it's all hand-held. I cut out some of the shots, but some of them started under the sofa and then crawled. Declan (Quinn, the D.P.) was just literally holding the camera like a vacuum.

When he first saw the blow-up, Figgis flipped at the beauty of what he had. "It's how I would like films to look. A little bit of grain; a little bit soft, not out of focus, just soft. Not quite as forgiving as 35mm, not quite as unrelenting." Processed in America, the blow-up of the film was done in England. It was a lucky bit of serendipity, as it turned out. "Because the blow-up in America is an aberration, not the norm, they're not used to handling 16mm stock. What you're getting is somebody spare from the 35mm department. You're not actually dealing with an expert. Whereas in Europe, you are. There is enough turnover in 16, because all the TV is shot in 16mm (in America only slightly hip TV or MTV stuff is shot in 16mm). There are guys whose job is nothing but 16mm. So they know how the bath should be, they know that when you neg. cut you need to be extra careful; you're supposed to go to your inter-pos. and inter-neg. ASAP because you don't want to be handling the 16mm master very much."

In love with the dramatic impact of the dark scene, the signature of his style, Figgis acknowledges the manipulation of his work."I always wanted to shoot in the dark. Really be bold. Push the stock. Say using 400 ASA, push it to 3200 so it really starts to disintegrate. Shoot it, shoot a love scene in the dark. With no help at all. The great thing about movies is that in a one-minute sequence, even with the tiniest amout of light, there is a moment where something is revealed. Which is very sexy. Sensual is a better word. Particularly if you are dealing with a dark subject, as most things are."

Even Nicolas Cage found himself surprised by the uniqueness of shooting Super 16. "Nic said a very interesting thing at a screening last week about the Super 16 format, " remarked Figgis. "He said from an actor's point of view, and I'd not heard this before, so it was really good, that because the camera is smaller and less significant, it took a huge amount of pressure off him--sort of like the worship focus is taken off the actor. With a 35mm camera, on a dolly with five surgeons around it--there's almost a medical reverence that goes on. Sixteen mm is a bit of a joke. It designifies the process, technically, in a wonderful way. And he said he found it an incredible advantage. Initially, as he admitted himself, he was terrified of 16 and offered me his own money to go into 35 if my financial problems couldn't be solved. And I said no! I want 16! For both of us, there was a lagging nervousness. It made it very exciting."

Figgis created a pivotal sequence which may become considered Elizabeth Shue's finest piece of work. It's also a scene which generates pockets of audience laughter: an uncomfortable reaction for Figgis. "I was really shocked," he said. "The scene where Elizabeth says 'You seem prepared for accidents,' and the motel manager says 'Yeah, we get a lot of fuck-ups here' is so sinister. The body language of that woman, and the lightning, are so sinister--I think it's like the angel of death. Elizabeth's reaction shot has the chill." Figgis shrugs and says one should remember never to presume the audience.

"Sometimes the laughter in a big audience seems inappropriate. Pockets of it. But it is the final test. What is pretentious in a film will become very clear. Even if the audience doesn't realize it, there is a sort of squirming--a nakedness--which gives it away."

In Leaving Las Vegas, the nakedness exists as a lingering moment, a Figgis-inspired revelation of humor, pathos and brutal honesty. No squirming allowed. MM