“A made-in-Vancouver classic” proclaims the handwritten sticker affixed to a low-budget label DVD that I purchased from some video store closing sale somewhere (Black Dog Video? Limelight Video? There’s been too many). As you may have gathered from previous entries in this series, the tax shelter years tended to be kinder to the eastern end of Canada where the Canadian Film Development Corporation (CDFC) was based and where arguably more developed filmmaking infrastructure and talent were available.
Nonetheless, the west coast had an established film scene by the 1970s that consisted of more than just weekly entries of The Beachcombers. Zale Dalen had been a sound recordist for several BC-produced features including the Christopher Lee vehicle The Keeper. But he made the jump to auteur in 1977, having written and directed the slow-burning 1977 thriller, Skip Tracer.
Vancouver-based debt collector John Collins (David Peterson) is a dedicated professional who won’t hesitate to take the shirt off your back if you’re behind on your payments. His uncompromising methods have earned him company “Man of the Year” for several years running and he has no intention of slowing down. But things become complicated when the man behind a delinquent account (Al Rose) begins to clap back against Collins who has also found himself saddled with a younger partner Brent (John Lazarus) who basically hero-worships the lone-wolf operator. As the job’s demands and consequences begin to stack up, Collins begins to realise that he himself may become a victim of the oppressive financial system he’s been serving.
Dalen helms his debut feature with a stripped-down directing style, avoiding any fancy camera setups, limited coverage and minimal sound design. Skip Tracer is very much a story built on the foundation of its protagonist and David Peterson easily gives one of the best performances I have ever seen in the history of Canadian cinema, no hyperbole. His deceptive monotone masks a man who has spent his adult years laser-focused on a career that has slowly hollowed him out from the inside, his salary and token awards substituting for any true social foundation (he lives a loner existence in a one-bedroom apartment). He’s the kind of character that you can’t take your eyes off of and Petersen would’ve handily taken home the Leo award for Best Actor had they existed at the time (the snobbier Canadian Film Awards denied him the trophy that year).
The film’s dated trappings (afros, bell bottoms, 1st generation desktop computers) take nothing away from the disturbingly timely effects of a consumer culture in over its head. Like contemporary times, the late 70s was a time of increased inflation (plus rising unemployment) with the comfy post-war lifestyle of large single-family houses filled with the latest appliances and gadgets becoming less sustainable (are we sure this isn’t 2023??). One can lose the entire life they’ve built if they fall far enough behind on the payments. Collins begins to muse about whether they‘re pushing too hard, but is admonished by a fellow repo-man for thinking of their clients as anything more than a numbered file.
A more fascinating aspect to the modern viewer is the film’s depiction of a pre-Expo Vancouver, featuring far more heavy industry than luxury condos. Collins chases down one delinquent client through a decidedly industrial Granville Island while Brent wades through the muck of a muddy False Creek construction project, with nary a bike lane nor latte in sight. One generation’s thriller takes on new life as another generation’s time capsule.
Skip Tracer strikes hard by speaking softly, leaving the audience with just enough rope to hang their preconceptions with. Zale Dalen’s slow-burning thriller deserves a far wider audience than it’s received over the years, so do yourself a favour and seek it out before the screen you’re reading this on gets repossessed.
8.5/10
Skip Tracer is currently available to stream on Hollywood Suite or available for purchase from Gold Ninja Video