When people think of Risky Business, chances are the first image that pops into their head is the now-iconic moment where Joel (Tom Cruise) dances round his parent’s empty mansion miming to Bob Seger’s Rock n’ Roll Music. While this moment proved iconic, it’s a scene that is at odds with the often subdued nature of the rest of the film. A subversive, 1980s version of The Graduate crossed with Wall Street, Risky Business is a scathing commentary on American wealth and capitalism disguised as a knockabout sex comedy in the vein of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

Directed by Paul Brickman, Risky Business feels superficially like a John Hughes film, but the tone is markedly different. Joel is immensely privileged, with a wealthy family and a bright future, but this is used against him. His financial security leads him to some dark places, and the result is far from the goofy reputation the film holds today.

Joel Parrish (Cruise) is a middle class Ivy League high school student with his sights set on Princeton. When his parents go on vacation and leave him alone in their luxurious home, he does all the things that Macaulay Culkin was too young to do in Home Alone. Namely, dancing around in his pants, taking his dad’s porsche for a spin, and hiring a prostitute for the evening. The call girl in question, Lana (Rebecca DeMornay) steals a valuable ornamental egg when Joel leaves her on her own in the house, and so begins a frantically paced film as events rapidly spiral out of control. Eventually, pushed to the edge and desperately in need of money, Joel transforms his parents’ house into a brothel for the evening, in an attempt to recoup his losses and restore the house to its previous state.

Tom Cruise, who was only 19 during filming, gives his first genuine star-making performance. It was only his fifth film, and he owns the screen completely. I’ve long thought that Cruise is a much better actor than he has ever been really given credit for, and whatever you might think of his performance here, there’s a charisma and a magnetism that is evident from the very first scene, as well as a kind of moral ambivalence that really works for this specific film. He wouldn’t have been likeable enough have played Ferris Bueller, but likewise, I don’t think someone like Matthew Broderick would have had the requisite coldness to play Joel.

Because beneath the youthful energy and freewheeling comedy of the film, there is a darker, more callous side. Joel is under immense pressure from the very start of the film, contending with college applications, his libido and the weight of his overbearing parents’ expectations. All of Joel’s peers are looking at careers in business, and the way Joel takes to pimping like a duck to water speaks to some serious moral shortcomings, but this never feels out of character, or makes him less magnetic as a lead.

More impressive is Rebecca DeMornay who is incredible as Lana, giving an enigmatic performance from her captivating first scene. It’s never explicitly revealed just how responsible she is for what happens to Joel, or at least how aware she is of her pimp’s scheme to rip him off, and DeMornay plays each character beat with a beautiful ambiguity, so whatever you think of her motives, her performance supports each reading.

Joe Pantoliano gives another one of his great supporting roles as Guido “the killer pimp” and makes such an impression that it’s easy to forget that he only appears in three scenes. He plays it a lot straighter and low-key than his broader scumbag roles in Midnight Run, The Goonies and even Memento, but he manages to be both sinister and comic – his line: “In a sluggish economy, never ever f*** with another mans livelihood” is one of the most memorable of the film.

In another neat twist on audience expectations, Curtis Armstrong plays perhaps the most moral character in the film. He plays into the sex-obsessed archetype in the first half, but once Joel’s scheme to turn his parents house into a brothel is in full effect, he is the only one to exhibit any qualms at all – “The thing is… I don’t have to pay for it”. Bronson Pinchot is also great as Cruise’s nerdy best friend – his reactions to the apparently endless line of prostitutes walking through the front door are priceless, and improvised by Pinchot.

There’s something about the film that feels truly transgressive, even today. Even the final screw you to Joel that the film orchestrates feels less impactful because you know that he will end up with enough money to buy everything stolen from him ten times over. As money is shown to solve all of Joel’s problems, the film is superficially at least, an endorsement of the materialistic, consumerist lifestyle, and yet the toll this takes on his soul is made evident in the final scene. Not only Joel, but Lana is changed for the worse by the events of the film, and the final exchange between the two is up there with the final image of The Graduate as one of the most quietly devastating in modern cinema.

Well, I say the final image. The most exciting aspect of this release is the director’s cut, which restores Brickman’s original fatalistic ending, as opposed to the more upbeat one imposed by the studio. This enforced ending left Brickman so disillusioned that it effectively ended his Hollywood career. The director’s cut is not dramatically different to the theatrical release, but where it differs most is in the tone. The Theatrical Cut is generally more light-hearted and tender, while the Director’s Cut feels almost imperceptibly more cynical

It’s a huge shame that the studio interference prevented us from seeing more of Brickman’s potential, as the film is so well made. The framing and camerawork is engaging and interesting without ever being too showy, and his direction is completely on point throughout. Every decision is calculated and is there for a reason, and the result is a much more thoughtful, deliberate film than you might expect.

Take the imagery of the ornamental egg for instance. There is a conscious link between this and Joel’s innocence. At the start it is this pristine object kept on the mantle, but by the end it has gained a tiny, almost imperceptible crack. Joel too, is changed by the events of the film. Externally he is the same, but his naivete is gone, and replaced by a cold, calculating demeanour. His final line, “I deal in human fulfilment” tells you all you need to know about where he is headed.

Even the sex scenes are more than the titillating thing you initially expect, as the camera pans across photos of Cruise as a baby, really hammering home the destruction of his youth. This is only helped by the evocative, hypnotic Tangerine Dream score, which lends each scene a singularly cinematic quality.

I’d been aware of this film for most of my adult life, but had always categorised it in my head as a cheesy coming-of-age comedy. In fact it more resembles the darker, subversive edge of films like Heathers or Better Off Dead. It’s an incredibly fatalistic comedy, and remains one of Cruise’s best films, and so much more than that one sequence. If anything, the film’s refreshing blend of tragic cynicism and nuanced romance resonates more today than it did upon its original release. I miss when films would actually say something beyond, “this is what’s happening in the film,” and Risky Business is a film where there is a lot more going on beneath the surface than the cheesy dance scene would have you believe.

Special Features

Aside from the inclusion of the Directors Cut and Theatrical Cut with a restoration supervised by Brickman, the special features include a commentary by Brickman, producer Jon Avnet and Cruise himself! There are also interviews with Avnet and casting director Nancy Klopper, as well as a conversation between editor Richard Chew and film historian Bobbie O’Steen; A featurette with interviews with cast and crew; and screen tests for Cruise and De Mornay.

Risky Business is out on 29th July from Criterion Collection – order here: https://amzn.dp/B0D2DQ5B6R