“Like Tears in Rain” Review

It makes sense that this documentary on Rutger Hauer references his dying monologue from Blade Runner. It’s not just because of that being his most memorable role, but the words relate to his very history. As the narration begins, Rutger would try to film everything and kept a massive storage of his behind-the-scenes and intimate moments captured on film. Sadly, most of that footage was destroyed in a flood. Water literally made those moments lost in time, but there was thankfully enough footage left over elsewhere to share another side of Hauer and the life he lived beyond the big screen.

There’s enormous amount of luck in Rutger Hauer’s life that the actor seems to be aware of. He was initially hired on for a Danish TV series more for his face than his acting ability. Director Paul Verhoven thought as much and didn’t think Hauer had much of a chance in movies. But Verhoven is more than willing to admit he was wrong and Hauer became a breakout star of the country, destined for bigger projects in Hollywood. There was a natural charm to how the actor could easily slide into roles where he’s either a dashing rogue or a dangerous rebel. Through it all, Hauer seemed to embrace his luck as it came and went. That sensation becomes most apparent when one story is told of how he rode his new, uninsured motorcycle to a production office. When he returns to his find his bike stolen, he admits with a smile to his colleagues that he HAD a motorcycle.

The many interviews with celebrities and directors that knew him are very candid and paint a more complete picture of who Rutger Hauer was. Whoopi Goldberg provides some of the most insightful recollections of how Hauer was a good friend for being so frank. He wouldn’t speak most of the time unless he had something to say but he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind with warmth. That said, if he didn’t like being in the room with somebody, he let you know it, as Goldberg admits that Hauer could instantly turn a room cold. Of course, Rutger’s methods on set are addressed by directors with a similar sensation, where it feels like Rutger takes control of projects. From Robert Rodriguez to Jason Eisener, they tell stories of how Hauer would read lines differently or write new lines or sometimes not even say lines if a scene didn’t warrant them.

That desire for greater artistic control is understandable when addressing the darker corners of Hauer’s life. His early Hollywood days were rocky with a death in the family souring his time on an American film and a falling out he had with Verhoven over Flesh and Blood, the first English film for the Danish director. Hauer didn’t want only to be cast as villains and this led to a bitter disagreement between the actor and director. It makes sense why Hauer’s home movies from this production are not on the set, but far away from it, observing the majesty of a castle in the background and beautiful trees in the foreground. There was a tender and yearning side to the actor that didn’t want only to be seen as the terrorist from Nighthawks or the killer from The Hitcher.

But if Hauer was a villain on screen, he was a playful soul off the screen. The public and private footage reveals a man who loved to dabble in everything from filming to poetry, often surprising his peers with lyrical emails laced with jokes about farting and fucking. The way he tinkers with cameras and gets cozy with his co-workers is surprisingly sweet. Rutger’s devotion towards a masterclass on filmmaking is rather touching for the lives he inspired to keep playing with the medium. For a man who seemed to be reserved at times, art was a passion that could transform him into somebody excited to write, explore, perform, and laugh.

An earnest and tender portrait of Rutger Hauer beautifully comes through the documentary Like Tears in Rain. I love how the film spends far more time speaking of the actor as equally blunt, quiet, goofy, and contemplative. From the heartfelt words of the actors and directors who knew him best, he seemed like the type of guy who wouldn’t attend big social events but always had something creative to showcase in private or when a camera was turned on. Everything about his life makes the expected Blade Runner monologue hit so hard by the film’s end.