Falling Down & The Everyman
- Eddie Middleton

- Jul 3
- 8 min read
Thank you for tuning in today. We’ve got a good one to take a look at. Really juicy, controversial stuff so stay tuned. As for you…click the subscribe or follow button wherever you get your podcasts. “Why should I do this, Eddie” you may ask? “Well, dear listener, if you click that button it keeps you up to date on the latest episodes.” “But Eddie, what if I don’t really care about being up to date? That sounds like work. I work enough already. I have a full time job, three kids, two dogs, a cat, eight gold fish, a koi pond, an ex-wife, child support payments, a voter registration card I have to renew…it’s just too much to hit that that subscribe button.” “Listen sir or madam, I know you have a lot going on. We all do. I’m not honestly sure why you have so many goldfish, but that’s beside the point. If you click that subscribe button for me it helps me know you care.” “Seriously, Eddie. Why should I care?” “Because this world is bereft of human beings that care. So don’t be a moron like every one else.”And now…on to the show!
Meet William Foster—just your average, laid-off defense worker in a short-sleeved dress shirt, armed with a briefcase full of broken dreams and a simmering rage that could melt asphalt.
One morning, stuck in L.A. traffic and sweating like a baked potato, he decides: “You know what? I’ve had enough.” So he ditches his car and embarks on the worst—and most aggressive—commute of all time.
What follows is a daylight rampage through every annoyance of modern life: overpriced soda, rude customer service, gangland turf disputes, and... the fast-food breakfast cutoff. (Yes, that’s the final straw. And no, he is not getting the lunch menu.)
As William gradually transforms from disgruntled dad to suburban vigilante with a questionable moral compass, Detective Prendergast (played by Robert Duvall) shuffles through his last day on the job trying to piece it all together. Spoiler alert: things escalate. Explosively.
Falling Down is what happens when middle-class rage, ‘90s fashion, and a total disregard for impulse control collide. It’s cathartic, it’s unsettling, and it might make you think twice the next time someone quietly fumes in a traffic jam. So drive carefully folks. You never know who might be packin’.
Here are 5 fast facts about the making of Falling Down (1993):
1. Michael Douglas Considered It One of His Best Roles
Michael Douglas has publicly stated that he believes his performance as William Foster is one of the best of his career. He was drawn to the character’s complexity and how the role pushed him to explore the psyche of a man on the edge.
2. Directed by Joel Schumacher
The film was directed by Joel Schumacher, known for a wide range of films from St. Elmo’s Fire to The Lost Boys. Schumacher described Falling Down as a story about “the anger of the forgotten man” and wanted to explore the psychological impact of societal and economic pressure on the individual. That’s pretty deep for a guy who was most recently known as putting nipples on the batsuit for Val Kilmer.
3. Filming Faced Controversy and Protests
Like most things nowadays, you can’t do something with causing a ruckus. Some of the film’s scenes were shot in economically struggling parts of Los Angeles, including South Central. The production faced protests from residents who were concerned that the film portrayed their communities negatively or perpetuated racial stereotypes. Instead of holding judgement until actually seeing the film and deciding if it was garbage or not, like today’s world they just jumped in with assumptions at the start.
4. Released During a Time of Social Tension
Falling Down was released in February 1993, less than a year after the 1992 Los Angeles riots. Its themes of urban unrest, racial tension, and disillusionment with authority made it highly controversial—and timely—upon release.
5. Box Office and Critical Success
Despite its dark tone and divisive subject matter, the film was a commercial success. It grossed over $96 million worldwide on a budget of around $25 million. Critics praised Douglas’s performance, though some were unsettled by the film’s ambiguity about whether Foster was a villain or a tragic anti-hero. This harkened back to films of the 70’s that thrived and stay with you long after initial viewing in the theater.
"Falling Down" (1993): The Beaten-Down Everyman
In Joel Schumacher’s Falling Down (1993), Michael Douglas portrays William Foster, a recently laid-off defense worker who reaches a psychological breaking point while stuck in Los Angeles traffic. What begins as a surreal journey across the city quickly turns into a violent, erratic confrontation with the many frustrations and injustices of modern urban life.
Falling Down is not just about one man’s descent into chaos—it’s a pointed reflection of the average person’s struggle to navigate a society that seems increasingly indifferent, demanding, and dehumanizing. The film resonates because it taps into a shared undercurrent of dissatisfaction and exhaustion many feel in the face of modern pressures, especially related to work, bureaucracy, and the loss of personal agency.
William Foster represents the everyman who has played by society’s rules and still finds himself discarded. A once-loyal employee, he’s laid off without warning. A divorced father, he is legally and emotionally distanced from his child. His life is a succession of rules and restrictions, all seemingly working against him. Throughout the film, Foster confronts a range of social symbols: a fast-food restaurant that refuses to serve breakfast past 11:30, gang members who threaten him without provocation, a convenience store clerk who won't lower prices, and a construction site that represents wasted taxpayer money. Each encounter builds upon his deep sense of powerlessness, and the film tracks his transformation from a quiet man with a white shirt and tie into someone capable of explosive, sometimes disturbing acts of rebellion.
At the time of release, and maybe even just hearing that last paragraph, people assumed this film had a political perspective. Let me take a brief moment to clear a few misconceptions up. If you think this is a film directed by someone who falls on the Red side of the political spectrum you would be sorely mistaken. Director Joel Schumacher was Democrat who spent quite a bit donating to the 2004 campaign of John Kerry. Furthermore, if you thought this film was made by someone on the far right, keep in mind that Schumacher was a member of the LGBTQ long before that acronym was a thing. These are just two examples, I believe, that explain why we need great storytellers and not a good preaching to when we sit down to watch our entertainment. Making a statement as an artist is a rightt to fight for, but not everything needs a statement. In my opinion, take it for what you will, I believe we need more stories onscreen that take us out of this reality filled with division and confusion, to a place where we can just escape and fall in love again with cinema.Falling Down isn’t a film that neatly aligns with any one political party or ideology—it’s a character study about frustration, alienation, and the psychological toll of modern life. While William Foster’s actions touch on hot-button issues like crime, immigration, economic disparity, and bureaucratic dysfunction, the film doesn’t present a clear political message or endorse any side. Instead, it portrays a man unraveling under the weight of personal failure and societal pressure. His journey is messy, contradictory, and often morally troubling—hardly the blueprint for a partisan cause.
Schumacher crafted Falling Down as a reflection of the growing anger and disconnection felt by many during the early 1990s, a time marked by economic uncertainty and cultural tension—sound familiar? Foster isn’t a hero or a villain in the traditional sense—he’s a man who believes he’s been wronged, but whose violent breakdown reveals more about his own psychological instability than any coherent political agenda. The film’s power lies in its ambiguity. It’s not trying to tell viewers what to think; it’s inviting them to wrestle with the gray areas between right and wrong, order and chaos. That moral complexity is exactly why Falling Down still sparks debate—and refuses to be boxed in.
This character arc, while extreme, taps into something universal. In a world where politeness is often expected even when one is being mistreated, and where civility can feel like submission, Foster becomes a kind of surrogate for the viewer’s unspoken frustrations. While his actions become increasingly violent and morally ambiguous, the emotional spark behind them—the desire to be heard, to reclaim dignity, and to demand fairness—rings true for many. This is precisely where Falling Down finds its emotional impact: it gives voice to the anger and helplessness that people often suppress, particularly in the workplace or within bureaucratic systems that feel cold and unresponsive.
Films like Falling Down act as a form of emotional catharsis. They allow us to engage, safely and vicariously, with a fantasy: the idea of finally standing up to the injustices we endure daily but feel powerless to challenge. Most people will never yell at a fast-food manager over a policy, confront dangerous criminals, or lash out at a company that fired them unfairly. But in watching William Foster do these things—however misguided his path may become—we experience a sense of temporary relief. It’s a cinematic release valve for real-world pressure.
Furthermore, Falling Down doesn’t just glorify Foster’s rebellion; it complicates it. The character of Detective Prendergast, played by Robert Duvall, offers a foil to Foster’s descent. On the surface, Prendergast is also beaten down—an aging cop facing forced retirement and a domineering wife. Yet rather than implode, he manages to hold onto his decency and solve the case with calm persistence. This contrast provides a moral anchor for the audience and shows that while frustration is inevitable, our responses to it are what ultimately define us. Foster loses himself in rage and delusion; Prendergast retains his humanity.
By the end of the film, Foster’s breakdown is revealed not as heroism but as a tragedy. His actions, though sparked by relatable grievances, are ultimately unjustifiable.
The final scene, in which he asks “I’m the bad guy?” with a look of pure disbelief, is haunting precisely because he has become the thing he thought he was fighting against. This sobering resolution reminds viewers that unchecked anger, no matter how righteous its origin, can lead to personal ruin and collateral damage.
Still, the film's impact remains powerful. In watching Foster’s unraveling, we recognize our own stressors and limitations. We see both the danger of letting our frustrations consume us and the potential strength in holding on to empathy and control. Falling Down serves as both a cautionary tale and a mirror, reflecting the cracks in our systems while also reminding us of the emotional resilience we must cultivate.
In the end, films like Falling Down don’t encourage us to emulate their protagonists—they encourage us to understand them. And through that understanding, they offer a strange kind of comfort: we are not alone in our struggles, our anger, or our despair. And if we can face those emotions, rather than act on them destructively, we may just find a way to push through. So the next time you feel like you’ve had enough. The boss is on your case, everyone you know can’t seem to find any common ground and all you wanna do is run away but you know you can’t, take a couple of hours watch Falling Down. Meditate on the fact that it’s fantasy, but also the fact that the solutions we sometimes feel would be the best course of action are often ones we make as an emotional reaction…and not considering that we aren’t alone. There are millions of us that feel oppressed, under someone’s thumb and undervalued. Unfortunately, that’s been the case throughout humanity’s history and it doesn’t look like it’s going to change any time soon. But the power in knowing that you aren’t struggling alone and that there are actually really good people out there who understand what it’s like, can be just the strength you need to give the others a little grace.Thank you for listening today. As always, watch films deeper, listen closer and search for a deeper meaning than what’s on the surface. I’ll see you next time.





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