Mean Streets (1973) dir. Martin Scorsese
Starring: Harvey Keitel, Robert De Niro, David Proval, Richard Romanus

By Alan Bacchus

The opening 30 minutes established Scorsese's style emphatically ― it's a riveting introduction to the characters, location and flavour of the film. There's Charlie (Keitel), the confused gangster torn between his loyalty to his friends, his girlfriend and his faith, and the mentorship of his mob heavy uncle; Johnny Boy (Robert De Niro), the irresponsible loose cannon and boyhood pal of Charlie's; Tony (David Proval), the nightclub owner and host to the film's character interactions; and Michael (Richard Romanus), the affable loan shark chasing down the debts owed by Johnny Boy.

But the film essentially begins in the nightclub, bringing this foursome together. In particular, two shots in this scene essentially announce Martin Scorsese as a master: Charlie's entrance to the club, with Keitel moving through the crowd, the camera following elegantly behind; and Johnny Boy's arrival, with De Niro sloppily prancing around, two women on his arms, set to the rip-roaring Stones classic "Jumpin' Jack Flash." These are two great character introductions, the contrast of which expertly foreshadows their intense conflict, which drives the movie.

The rest of the film is a mix of these lively, rambunctious moments and anger-fuelled confrontations, which result in an aggressively violent ending reminiscent of the bloodshed in his next milestone film, Taxi Driver. But the experience of Mean Streets is less traditional narrative storytelling than a cathartic expression of Scorsese's youth and the intimate connection to filmmaking, an obsession that famously permeates his very being.

Sadly, despite being so influential in his career, Mean Streets always gets the short shrift. It's one of the last Scorsese pictures to get the Blu-ray treatment and sadly only a "catalogue" treatment by Warner, which means cribbed extras from a previous DVD release, a plain plastic box and uninspired cover art with none of the glossiness given to other (arguably lesser) Warner films of late. But the high definition transfer is decent, considering the grainy, run-and-gun, unpolished look employed by Scorsese. The vintage featurette is rudimentary and short, showing Scorsese and the two boyhood pals who inspired the film walking through the authentic Little Italy filming locations. Audio commentary by Scorsese should always be cherished, but, as usual, his comments are a mix between informative and meandering.

****

This review first appeared on Exclaim.ca

Hugo (2011) dir. Martin Scorsese
Starring: Asa Butterfield, Chloe Grace Moretz, Ben Kingsley, Sacha Baron Cohen

***

By Alan Bacchus

Yes, it's true. I'm not as enamoured with Martin Scorsese's ‘kids’ film and multiple Oscar nominee as most others. Firstly, it's not really a kids film at all. It’s a warm-hearted whimsical fantasy for sure, but it’s something more directly related to the Jean-Pierre Jeunet/Terry Gilliam/Baz Luhrmann adult magic realism.

While there's a strong emotional core to this picture, that being the reclamation of spirit of turn-of-the-century filmmaker Georges Méliès through the journey of its young hero Hugo Cabret, the film is also overloaded with visual paraphernalia, which actually feels more derivative (of said filmmakers above) than fresh or unique to Scorsese.

The opening act seems to show off the production design and special effects. Unfortunately, the frames are too busy for the film’s own good. The CGI-enhanced compositions are overloaded with wide-angle imagery, leaving everything in focus and confusing our eye. I'm also put off by the 'three-strip colour process' visual design of Robert Richardson's lighting (the same look as The Aviator), which means everything seems to have a distracting teal coloured tint.

But this is all surface gloss. The guts of the story are fascinating. However, it really doesn't kick in until the halfway mark with a brilliant mid-point turn (admirably hidden to audiences in its marketing push), which sends the film in a whole new direction. In fact, it’s essentially a two-act film, cleaved in half by the reveal of Ben Kingsley’s character as the real-life Georges Méliès.

This moment occurs when Hugo (Butterfield) and his investigative partner, Isabelle (Moretz), use the heart-shaped key to turn on the automaton robot, which sketches out a scene from A Trip to the Moon. It's a great moment connecting all the key characters in the film, including Hugo, Isabelle, Hugo's father and, of course, Georges. It plunks the film down in something real and tangible rather than the overly processed 3D retro fantasy world. This is when Hugo gets interesting. The rest of the film plays out like an hour-long third act with Hugo and Isabelle plotting to get Georges to acknowledge his place in cinema history.

I don't know if children would appreciate the significance of this switch or the real identity of Georges, the grumpy train station vendor. This is magic for adults, the Spielberg kind of magic, and the omniscient hand of God or fate guiding our characters to fulfill their dreams.

Scorsese's direction is functional but certainly not of the auteur quality we expect of him. He's a great talent, and thus he's comfortable wearing the skin of a Jeunet or Spielberg. But it's still a disguise for Marty, and it just doesn't feel like his movie. Thus, it’s not a masterpiece.

Hugo is available on Blu-ray from Paramount Home Entertainment.

New York, New York (1977) dir. Martin Scorsese
Starring: Robert De Niro, Liza Minnelli, Lionel Stander

**

By Alan Bacchus

Martin Scorsese’s maddeningly uneven ‘coke movie’ New York, New York gets the Blu-ray treatment for the first time. It would be less a disappointment from the man if it didn't come at the time of one of his great artistic peaks – between Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. This period was poisonous to many of the great ‘70s filmmakers, as Steven Spielberg's 1941, Michael Cimino's Heaven's Gate and Francis Coppola's One from the Heart, like New York, New York, were ambitious, admirable failures.

Robert De Niro is like Dick Powell on coke, a cocky skirt-chasing sax player named Jimmy Doyle trying to make it in the post-WWII big band era. If De Niro is Powell then Francine Evans (Liza Minnelli) is his Myrna Loy, a beaten down singer/dame who suffers for years as Doyle's creative partner and lover but is continually subject to his violent outbursts and verbal abuse. Minnelli does her best to work with such a shallow and underwritten role, but ultimately she's mostly a victim who only reacts to Doyle’s outrageous behaviour.

The movie really only hits its stride in the final 45 minutes, which includes a series of musical set pieces in the grand MGM style featuring Liza taking the stage to show off her immense talents. The 'Happy Endings' sequence feels like Scorsese doing the final Gene Kelly montage in An American in Paris, and the title song New York, New York, as sung by Liza, is terrific and sends the film out on a high note. But before that, it’s the Robert De Niro show. His talents are unbridled by Scorsese, as he lets loose like a rampaging Jake La Motta and affable oddball Rupert Pupkin.

Unfortunately, Jimmy Doyle lacks the curious charms of these two other characters. One of the film's inconsistencies is the opening sequence, during which he’s introduced as a con man/pick-up artist exploiting the jubilance of VJ Day to try and ‘get laid’. It's in this lengthy opening sequence where he meets Francine, who initially does everything she can to shove him away but instead falls in love with his perseverance.

This sequence plays like a screwball comedy fuelled by Robert De Niro’s rat-a-tat banter and the dialogue rhythms of Mardik Martin’s (Mean Streets) distinct writing style. We can see Scorsese’s skills with big scenes. Effectively populating his frames with hundreds of extras, we can practically hear the ticker rack up the excessive budget. But this scene feels like a different movie and Doyle feels like a different character.

After this comic introduction, Doyle quickly turns into a manic madman artist, a transition, which even after several viewings of this film, just never fits the bill for me. In the second act, as Doyle and Francine make their way towards success, De Niro's aggressive behaviour overpowers each and every scene, especially Minnelli, who can only charm us with her sad expressive eyes.

But, as mentioned, this is an admirable failure. As a musical vehicle for Scorsese, it's no stain on his filmography. His streetwise aesthetic and the primal masculine aggression of Mean Streets and Raging Bull combined with the MGM dream factory genre is a wholly Scorsese vision. While it has never landed softly on me, it's a risk great artists like Scorsese continually need to take. After all, his next (dramatic) film was Raging Bull.

New York, New York is available on Blu-ray from MGM Home Entertainment.

Taxi Driver (1976) dir. Martin Scorsese
Starring: Robert De Niro, Albert Brooks, Cybil Shepherd, Jodie Foster, Harvey Keitel

****

By Alan Bacchus

Last year a fresh new 35mm print of Taxi Driver was shown around Toronto and the country enabling fans to see the film in its originally intended medium again, or for many of us, on the big screen for the first time. Now the Sony Blu-ray release comes along, just as pristine and beautiful on the small screen, even though it's thunder had been stolen somewhat. The BD has the same featurettes as in the previous 2-Disc DVD from 4 years ago, but the most intriguing addition is the Scorsese/Schrader audio commentary from the 1986 Criterion Collection laserdisc edition. This is significant because a) it was likely one of the first audio commentaries ever recorded and b) it’s from 25 years ago, when the filmmakers had a different perspective on the film than today. And remember, it had been only 10 years since the film was originally released. Yes, we hear some of the same anecdotes and descriptions of the film’s influences, but knowing that it’s recorded before Scorsese even had a chance to make Goodfellas or Casino or The Last Temptation of Christ is fascinating.

In terms of the film itself, what’s there to say that hasn’t been said already? Not much. So pretend you’ve never heard of the film before. Taxi Driver is one of a half-dozen pure masterpieces in Scorsese’s collection. It’s unlike any other film – it doesn’t fit into a genre, it’s difficult to summarize and it moves with an awkward pace. It’s part social commentary, part character study, part violent thriller, part comedy, partly personal filmmaking, part noir and on and on and on.

The film opens with shots of New York from various points of view from a taxi cab. It’s a hallucinogenic sequence intercut with a close-up of a pair of wandering eyes. The taxi is a character, the street is a character, and so is its driver – Travis Bickle, one of the most unique and analyzed characters in film. As Bickle describes to his employer during his job interview, he can’t sleep at night. He’s a glutton for punishment though and will work “anytime, anywhere.” He’s also a Vietnam vet – but more on that later. Bickle gets the job and drives the streets of New York encountering all sorts of people – high class, low class, politicians, prostitutes, pimps, maniacs, etc.

He’s a lonely person with no direction, just looking to fit in with society. Finding a girlfriend or some sort of companion seems like the right thing to do. His attempt to ask out the concession stand girl in a porno theatre fails. Then he tries to court one of the most beautiful people on the planet – Betsy (Cybil Shepherd), a political campaign representative for a Presidential candidate. Needless to say, she’s way out of his league, but he actually has enough charm to get a date with her. He dresses the part, says all the right words, but makes one ghastly mistake. He takes her to a porno theatre. Oh Travis, no! As the audience, we’re rooting for Bickle to succeed, but the moment the camera reveals the X-rated marquee, our hearts collectively sink. It’s only the second act, but it’s downhill all the way from here.

Bickle tries to compensate by taking in a twelve-and-a-half-year-old street prostitute, Iris (Jodie Foster). They develop a unique friendship, but Bickle is still hurting from Betsy’s rejection of him. He abandons all hope of traditional social interaction and plots a violent course of action that will make him a martyr for society.

As mentioned, Taxi Driver is many things. It shows the chaotic world through Bickle’s eyes. Like Mark Lewis in Peeping Tom or any number of Hitchcock protags, Bickle is a voyeur, and Scorsese is careful to show Bickle’s reactions to the most mundane and irrelevant people, places and things. Watch the scene in the coffee shop when he asks the Wizard (Peter Boyle) for advice. Bickle fixates on the foaming tablet in his water, Charlie T as he exits the store and the limping street hustler walking past him on the street. We can practically see the gears in his brain turning, taking in information, calculating an answer and reconciling the world.

Bickle is a stunted human being and likely mentally ill. We don’t know if it was Vietnam that caused his malfunction, but the fact that it’s hinted at only at the beginning of the film and never referenced again is an interesting decision for writer Paul Schrader. Since it was made in 1975 (and released in ‘76), Vietnam films had yet to be made, and the war had finished only a year before. I suspect Schrader and Scorsese didn’t want to provide a clear answer to Bickle’s actions because it would become an entirely different film.

By staying ambiguous and vague, the film remains personal for both filmmakers. Schrader put his heart and soul and some of his own experiences as a lonely writer into the screenplay, and Scorsese shows the ‘warts and all’ of his beloved city like only he can. It's also a time capsule of the state of the city at that time. Taxi Driver could never be made today because New York is a completely different city.

My favourite moment in Taxi Driver is a quintessential Scorsese scene. After Bickle shoots the corner store thief, the owner says he’ll take care of it. He grabs Bickle’s gun and proceeds to beat the man with an iron bar even though he’s 100% dead. Then the film cuts to a brilliantly ironic song, Late for the Sky by Jackson Browne. Bickle is sitting with a gun in hand watching American Bandstand. It’s another voyeur moment – Bickle watching on TV the life he so desperately wants to have, one that he will soon abandon and reject.

Taxi Driver is available on Blu-ray from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment.

Raging Bull (1980) dir. Martin Scoresese
Starring: Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, Cathy Moriarty, Frank Vincent,

****

By Alan Bacchus

I won’t pretend that Raging Bull is my favourite film, not even my favourite Martin Scorsese film, not the Best film of the decade as some critics proclaimed, and not even the best film of its particularly year (anyone seen David Lynch’s Elephant Man lately?). My slight hesitation is caused by Robert de Niro's thoroughly unlikeable yet effective portrayal as Jake La Motta as a beast with mood swings as scary as any horror film. But that's where my critique ends, the rest is unbridled penance for Martin Scorsese's masterpiece.

Raging Bull is a tough film, emotionally draining yet cinematically and stylistically exhilarating. It was a project started by Robert De Niro, and pitched to Martin Scorsese to direct and Robert Chartoff/Irwin Winkler to producer. As it’s man character, Jake La Motta, a middleweight from the 1940’s, nicknamed the Bronx Bull for his tenacity and brutish style of fighting. Sadly there wasn’t much dividing the ring from his personal life. In Scorsese’s unglamorous streetwise fashion he depicts the abusive relationships, briefly with his first wife whom he divorced after shamelessly courting the local 15 year old neighbourhood girl, and then this same girl Vickie who eventually became his wife.

Vicki's relationship is characterized as the caveman-cavegirl type, one of physical and emotional dominance and submission. As a character study La Motta is both horrific and fascinating. De Niro depicts La Motta as a bi-polar psychopath living in his own world, twisted and grotesque. Perhaps he’s a product of his environment though, as Scorsese is clear to depict this type of aggression everywhere, visible in the streets and clubs and audible through the open windows of the tenement apartments.

The violence and depraved behaviour of La Motta goes to such extremes at times it switches to humour. Scorsese’s treatment of this is razor sharp, constantly walking a delicate line between devastating emotional abuse and jet black dark comedy. La Motta’s obscenely violent mood swings, for instance. In his fight with his first wife the argument starts with an overcooked steak and proceeds toward physical violence. After the harrowing scene La Motta calls ‘a truce’, a throwaway word used when distracted by his brother Joey. And later in that scene La Motta is depicted talking quietly and with sincerity with his brother.

The relationship with Joey is the key relationship in the film however, two brothers so closely tied together, yet something which La Motta destroys after accusing him of sleeping with his wife. This moment represents the last straw in his psychological deterioration. The arc in this relationship is closed in the devastating finale when La Motta, years after that heated argument, approaches Joey on the street and physically embraces him with pure love.

Stylistically the film is still deservedly celebrated for its expressionistic fight sequences. Scorsese is clear not to shoot La Motta’s fights as realistic but what it may have looked and sounded like from La Motta’s skewed point of view.

This was 1980 and here he just about perfected his cinema language, both inside and outside the ring. His slow motion shots used in key moments of focus from La Motta's point of view; his overlapping sound tails which bridge and connect scenes, tails longer than most other films, long enough for us to notice and thus pay attention to; the amplified ambient sounds of the street which put the environment as close to the fore as the actions of the characters; Thelma Schoonmaker’s superlative editing; and of course Scorsese’s pitch perfect use of music, in particular La Cavalleria Rusticana which contrasts the hard edged visuals with graceful melancholy.

The dichotomy of beauty and beast exists in every frame of Raging Bull.

Raging Bull is available on Blu-Ray from 20th Century Fox/MGM Home Entertainment

Goodfellas (1990) dir. Martin Scorsese
Starring: Ray Liotta, Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, Lorraine Bracco, Paul Sorvino

****

By Alan Bacchus

What are best uses of voiceover in film? Terrence Malick in Badlands, Days of Heaven and The Thin Red Line perhaps, The Magnificent Amberson's maybe? The use of omniscient narration describing off screen action, motivation, character's inner thoughts can be seen as a lazy tool for screenwriters. But when it's done right, it's can be a magical thing. Few can argue the tremendous effect of the voiceover from Goodfellas, one of the great pop cultural landmark films of our time.

Martin Scorsese's return to the streetwise, low level gangster characters of Raging Bull, Mean Streets and served as kind of an antidote to the Godfather effect, that is, the glorification and romanticism of the mafia as charming, well dressed pseudo bourgeois aristocrats. Scorsese's gangsters are working class bullies who use the tantalizing temptations of capitalism to the extreme, living a life free of all control.

The opening scene in 1970, finding the body of Billy Bats still alive in the trunk of Henry Hill's car, is a classic, parachuting us into the narrative, then doubling back to continue the scene midway into the picture. And it’s not just an arbitrary scene, but the key decision in the film by the main characters which ultimately spelled their downfall. After this prelude Scorsese's hero Henry Hill opens up the story with one of the best lines - "as far back as I can remember I've always wanted to be a gangster". It begins the amusing, violent, grotesque and bystantine epic story of the New York/New Jersey mafia in the 70's and 80's.

Henry Hill's voiceover provides an intimate entry into the world so familiar in movies and TV, yet completely fresh and authentic. In the opening act, Henry moves from child wannabe to young hot shot hoodlum who ingratiates himself deep into the mafia. While he surrounds himself with two of the most ruthless gangsters we've ever seen in film - Jimmy Conway (Robert De Niro) and Tommy De Vito (Joe Pesci) - watch closely and you'll see Henry characterized as an outsider who never really gets his hands dirty in the dirtiest parts of the business. The death of Billy Bats for instance, Scorsese is careful to show Hill's shocked reaction at Jimmy and Tommy's violent beating. This allows the audience to see the world through the eyes of a man with a conscience, and however delusional and drugged out, he's the film's everyman.

Back to the voiceover...the great moments occurs early in the film. Take the introduction Karen for instance. In the restaurant Scorsese switches from Henry’s voiceover to Karen’s voiceover, which comes completely of left field, yet, as cut by Thelma Schoonmaker and the sound editors, the transition is seemless. The voiceover reads not like inner monologue but documentary interviews. This style ties in so wonderfully in the end, in the inspired moment when Henry Hill, on the stand,suddenly breaks the fourth wall and starts talking to the camera. As if the entire movie were part of his confession to breaking the two cardinal rules told to him by Jimmy Conway, 'never rat on your friends and always keep your mouth shut'.

As much as the film is visceral and violent, his mix of violence with humour has never been done better. Again, the Billy Bats killing is brutal, but watch the transition into the next scene, the riotously funny dinner scene with Scorsese’s mother, a contrast which keeps the audience oscillated between these two extremes- what is it, a paw? A hoof?

Thelma Schoonmaker’s editing compresses the time brilliantly, rendering an ambitious 20 year narrative into a elegant flow of image and sound that washes over the viewer like a bedtime story. One of the best scenes is the Bamboo Lounge sequence. In a matter of 60 seconds the restaurant is partnered with the mob, they make tones of money, then it’s a losing venture and its being torched.

But when they want Scorsese and Schoonmaker slow down to highlight the key moments in Henry's journey. The best scene, and one of greatest ever set pieces in motion picture history is the day which leads up to Henry's capture. After spending almost two hours over the course of 20 years, Scorsese throws a microscope on one particular day in Henry's life. A thrilling sequence which shows Henry giving instructions to his brother over the phone how to make the pasta, in paranoia watching the skies for a helicopter which may or may not be spying on him, driving around town delivering guns for Jimmy Conway and overseeing a drug deal while coking himself out to the max. In one great scene, Scorsese sums up the lifestyle of Henry Hill playing edge at all times, and a hair's breath away from being put away for life and the reason why Goodfellas is the greatest gangster film ever made.

"Goodfellas' is available on Blu-Ray as part of Warner Home Video's compilation of his recent work for Warners called The Martin Scorsese Collection.

Gangs of New York (2008) dir. Martin Scorsese
Starring: Leonardo Di Caprio, Daniel Day-Lewis, Cameron Diaz, Liam Neeson

***1/2

By Alan Bacchus

“Gangs of New York” divided audiences in 2002. It received 10 Oscar nominations in most of the major categories. Some critics called the film the Best of the Year. Many, like myself, knowing the storied history of this ‘dream project’ for Scorsese, had high expectations and were disappointed with the result.

Seeing it in 2002 I really wanted to love the film, but couldn’t find anything beyond Day-Lewis’ remarkable performance to cling onto. The Blu-Ray release a couple years ago gave me a new appreciation of the film. After a five-year break “Gangs of New York” has improved greatly and could be considered one of the best films of that year.

"Gangs" opens with a pulsating introduction to the “Dead Rabbits” gang. Liam Neeson, an Irish Priest is preparing to go to battle. His little son, follows him around, watching him gather all his troops and warriors. Their battle tools are unsophisticated – knives, axes, hammers and other bludgeoning objects. As they walk through a series of underground fire-lit caves we still aren’t even sure when or where they are. Is it the Middle Ages? It’s only until after the camera pulls out from the bloody battleground do we realize its Manhattan in 1846.

The opening is backstory to the film when takes place 16 years after this famous battle which finds the priest’s son Amsterdam (Leonardo Di Caprio) returning home to find the killer of his father, the infamous Bill the Butcher (Daniel Day-Lewis). Revenge doesn’t come easy though. Bill has become a de facto gang leader of the community, and with a new alliance with the city’s de facto politic leader, Boss Tweed of Tammany Hall (Jim Broadbent) he is now an untouchable.

The title is a bit of a misnomer. The film isn’t so much about gangs as it is about the city of New York. “Gangs” does what the best epic films do, weigh equally the big story with the small story.

The smaller story is about the evolving relationship of Bill the Butcher and Amsterdam Valone. Daniel Day-Lewis is still phenomenal as Bill. Day-Lewis’ casting and performance in “There Will Be Blood” is clearly influenced by his work in “Gangs of New York”. Day-Lewis is so good it came as a detriment to my first experience with the film. His exaggerated mannerisms chew the scenery and suck all the attention of every scene onto him. Lost in shuffle is a fine performance from Leonardo Di Caprio, who channels Hamlet-like qualities with his character’s indecisiveness. Like the Danish prince, Amsterdam wants to make a statement with Bill’s death. He says, “When you kill a king, you don't stab him in the dark. You kill him where the entire court can watch him die.” And so when Amsterdam becomes one of Bill's disciplines he finds himself admiring his enemy, complicating even further his indecision, and blurring the line between hero and villain.

The ‘bigger’ story is equally fascinating. During the Civil War, when the country was divided between North and South, New York was on its own – not neutral, but autonomous – like a separate colony with the country. And even within the city, everyone was autonomous – which is where the ‘gangs’ in the title comes from. Like the country itself, New York was constantly at war. So "Gangs" is also about the birth of New York and it's relationship with the rest of the country.

The finale, which takes place during the famous draft riots, is a great piece of writing – a scene which brings together the big story and the small story. Just as Amsterdam is about to face off with Bill, the riot starts and the federal police fight back. Amsterdam gets his revenge, but he’s alone with the man, without the fanfare he once foresaw. Bill the Butcher, one of the great villains in screen history dies with honour, neither a hero, nor a villain. Enjoy.

"Gangs of New York" is now available on Blu-Ray from Buena Vista Home Entertainment

Here’s Day-Lewis’ phenomenal dialog scene with Di Caprio:

Shutter Island (2010) dir. Martin Scorsese
Starring: Leonardo Di Caprio, Ben Kingsley, Mark Ruffalo, Michelle Williams

*1/2

By Alan Bacchus

Despite the opinions of some people who claim this film as a masterpiece (inc. my colleague Blair Stewart who posted the first review HERE) It pains me to give such a low rating to Mr. Scorsese, but other than the abominable New York, New York, Shutter Island is his worst film – an overwrought melodramatic stink bomb, one giant red herring much less clever than it thinks it is.

NOTE: I write this review assuming everyone has seen the movie...needless to say SPOILERS are ahead.

Shame on Marty for stooping so low as to use easy ‘shock’ images of dead children and the Holocaust in the same film. When you strip away Shutter Island, there’s actually nothing going on, and no suspense whatsoever, and so it takes flashbacks to dead children and the Holocaust to provide the meat. Except these moments are not earned by Scorsese because they are parachuted into the script instead of organically fusing itself into the narrative.

For example, Leonardo Di Caprio is crazy, and so since his past is only told to us in brief flashbacks absolutely anything could have happened to him to cause this insanity. Lehane/Scorsese choose two traumatic events – witnessing the Holocaust and having his equally crazy wife kill her own children. This is certainly enough trauma to cause his insanity, but without knowing the character beforehand, seeing how his relationship with his wife could have progressed to the point of her killing her own kids, it feels false and unearned.

Of course my discontent with this film is fundamental to the point of the story. If you can't accept the 'twist' the movie fails. For two thirds Lehane and Scorsese proceed to lay the groundwork for the investigative potboiler of US Marshal Teddy Daniels and his partner searching for a missing patient by the name of Rachel Solondo. It’s a rather brooding procedural filled with numerous mysterious details such as cryptic messages on scraps of paper, shifty-eyed administration staff who appear to be hiding information, a mysterious government communist conspiracy, etc.

Then at the two thirds mark the rug is pulled out from under the audience to reveal a completely different journey – that Daniels, is not a Marshal, but a patient of the facility going through some experimental role playing game monitored by his Doctors. Upon first viewing the bombshell didn’t so much shock me as stab me in the back for reversing everything I had invested in the characters in the first place. The twist essentially renders everything before it null and void. Therefore, if you don't accept the twist upon second viewing, the experience of watching this ruse play out is even worse. The twist reveals a number of gaping plot holes which become even more frustrating the second time 'round.

Are we to assume Mark Ruffalo was ‘acting’ the entire movie for the benefit of Daniels? Same with Dr. Crawley and all the other staff?

How did everyone keep a straight face? Was there a group meeting where the other staff members laid out this elaborate game?

And shame on you Marty for resorting to the laughable ‘word jumble’ in the third act to convince us the Leo is crazy. The moment Kingsley reveals the conveniently laid out white board word scramble of Andrew Laeddis – Edward Daniels reduced the film to a notch barely above Hardy Boys or the Da Vinci Code. These cheap tactics might have worked if there was any sense of humour in the picture, unfortunately it's so heavily handed its ultimately a dead weight.

There’s even little in the way of technical flare to entertain me, nothing of the authorship which earns the title 'A Martin Scorsese Film’. Even Robert Richardson’s photography which sparkles with colour and glossiness is beautiful to look at, but too beautiful and has no gothic authenticity.

Shutter Island is Martin Scorsese light, a phoned-in performance from Marty and a stain on his filmography.

Shutter Island is available on Blu-Ray and DVD from Paramount Pictures Home Entertainment

Shutter Island (2010) dir. Martin Scorsese
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Mark Ruffalo and Michelle Williams

****

By Blair Stewart

Let's get the fat out of the way quick so we can get to the meat: "Shutter Island" is in my opinion the best Martin Scorsese has done since "Casino" and a career high for Leonardo DiCaprio. After the thematic disapointment of "Gangs of New York", a tepid highlight reel that was "The Aviator" and the wealth of overpraisement for "The Departed", the director and his current muse have hit paydirt on their 4th try.

Based on the Dennis Lehane ("Mystic River", "Gone, Baby, Gone") novel, U.S. Marshals Teddy Daniels (Dicaprio) and Chuck Aule (Ruffalo) are dispatched to an asylum on the outer-Boston hub of Shutter Island to find a missing child-killer (Emily Mortimer) in the 1950's. A prison sans an exit for the criminally insane, Ashecliffe Asylum is on the cusp of a gathering storm and therefore a foul haunt for the unravelling psyche of the widowed Daniels. The ex-GI's mind is besieged with trama from the liberation of the Dachau concentration camp, and his dead wife Dolores (Michelle Williams) keeps popping up to offer worthy detective/spousal advice. As Daniels and Aule stumble through the fog of bullshit blowing in from Ben Kingsley as the chief psychiatrist the private stratgems of Daniels, the Doctor and the inmates intertwine.

That's as far as I'll describe a plot that allows Scorsese to indulge in his adulation of the cinematic trickery Welles, Fuller, and Hitchcock once employed in the realm of psychological thrillers. It's a shame to think that Saul Bass couldn't have provided an iconic opening credit sequence, it would have been a fat, juicy cherry on top. Some of the script material is shlock-Lobotomies! Crashing Thunder! Ted Levine as the Warden!-and some of the material is deeply tramatic-the Dachau flashbacks have a particular brutality for a major Hollywood release.

The genius of Scorsese, and editor Thelma Schoonmaker, and cameraman Robert Richardson, and Dante Ferrati's sets, and Laeta Kalogridis's adaptation, and finally Robbie Robertson bringing his best for the music supervision (so, so, so good this time around), is all the elements come together seemlessly. This surely could have been an overwrought headslapper, and there is noticable flab in later sections of the film, but Scorsese is a great chef and he wants to feed you something both familiar from his "Cape Fear" period and something strangely new for him, venturing well into the expressionist horror of Wiene's "Cabinet of Dr. Caligari". You might even guess the ending as I suspected it to be but the journey there earns the above rating.

The flaws of some moments that might better have been left to the imagination can be overlooked when you come across Dicaprio and Patricia Clarkson making plot revelations sing like a jailbird. If the thrill of that reel wasn't reward enough having Levine, Elias Koteas and Jackie Earle Haley show up to heist scenes feels like a surprise party for lovers of character actors.

Tarantino recenly spoke of the ruefulness that DePalma had felt towards Scorsese as "Raging Bull" was coming out and Tarantino might now understand that same feeling-Martin Scorsese is still very much Martin Scorsese. In regard to Dicaprio, who is both painting himself into a corner with these ulcerous roles and still managing to find new pockets of mental despair, he's wonderfully growing into the next James Cagney minus the dancing chops. As I once looked forward to Scorsese and DeNiro teaming up I now wait with anticipation for more work from one of the last remaining Maestros and his star performer.

In closing, you should get your ass to the cinema.

The Departed (2006) dir Martin Scorsese
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Mark Wahlberg,

****

It was a dream project when we all first heard Martin Scorsese was remaking “Infernal Affairs”, with cast of DiCaprio/Damon/Nicholson/Wahlberg, and so the anticipation was large. What kind of a film could Marty make of this? This question is answered when that Dropkick Murphy’s track kicks in in the first five minutes. We know we are in for a ride.

Matt Damon and Leonardo DiCaprio, respectively, play a mobster and a cop. DiCaprio’s character, Billy Costigan, is assigned from the day he graduates from the force to go deep undercover within the Irish mob in Boston. Damon’s character, Colin Sullivan, enters the police force to become a mole for his mob kingpin Frank Costello (Jack Nicholson).

Gradually the dueling moles learn about each others existence, and are assigned to find the other. This is when it gets confusing. Every cell phone call requires a good minute or so of thought before deciding which lie to tell and to whom. Both actors fall deep into their roles and we as the audience often forget who’s good and who’s bad. The burden of being undercover weighs heavily on Costigan. DiCaprio plays him with a nervous edge - he looks like he’s about to fall to pieces at any moment. Damon (the more modest of the two actors) by contrast, has the less-showy performance and plays Sullivan like a machine – focused, poker-faced, and single-minded. The scene in the elevator is a perfect example of the ruthlessness of his character. Sullivan has a brief moment to figure out what to do and performs an action that shocks us all.



Scorsese directs with cinematic machismo. The body count is high. Marty’s on fire reinventing his trademark ‘Scorsese’ scenes – DiCaprio’s mob initiation scene, for example, recalls the old’ ‘head-in-a-vice’ scene in “Casino.” The plot machinations are complicated, yet rarely are we confused with what’s going on. Though we, as the audience, have the ability to ‘pause’ the film to rethink a piece of the plot, somehow the characters can keep everything straight and make split second decisions.

“The Departed” is by no means a perfect movie – and perhaps the brevity of “Infernal Affairs” (a good 30mins lighter), makes it a better film. Arguably Nicholson is miscast, or perhaps mishandled by Scorsese. It’s a shame De Niro had to go and make “The Good Shepherd,” because a Scorsese/De Niro reunion on this film makes me salivate. I also wish Scorsese would update his record collection, “Gimme Shelter” and “Comfortably Numb” again? Both are good songs, but not appropriate for a film that takes place in present day. And the last shot of the film, perhaps an homage to Hitchcock or a wink to the audience, sadly takes away from the film.

Despite the minor criticisms, let’s applaud the Academy for choosing the first crime/thriller genre film to win Best Picture since “The French Connection.” “The Departed” is available on DVD. Please rent it and enjoy.
The Departed (Two-Disc Special Edition)

The King of Comedy (1983) dir. Martin Scorsese
Starring: Robert De Niro, Jerry Lewis, Sandra Bernhard

***1/2

Since Scorsese’s name is all over the place let’s revisit one of his under-the-radar films – “The King of Comedy”.

“The King of Comedy” is a film about Rupert Pupkin, a boob of a man, and a pathetic wannabe comedian who idolizes a Johnny Carson-type of talk show host, Jerry Langford, played by Jerry Lewis. One night after a taping Rupert hangs around the throngs of press and fans all trying to catch glimpse of Langford. During the scrum Rupert manages to sneak his way into Langford’s limo and drive off with the star. This is Rupert in a nutshell, an annoyingly persistent mouse, able to sneak through the tiniest cracks. While in the limo Rupert feels this is his “big break”, and pitches Jerry on his comedy act. Jerry is accommodating but also straight with him and tells him the value of earning one’s success. Jerry leaves the door open though by taking Rupert’s audition tape, which is just the inch Rupert needs to take a gigantic mile.

Rupert drops off his tape, but then proceeds to spend day after day in Langford’s office waiting for a response. The scenes of Rupert sitting in the waiting room are quietly frightening. Prior to being thrown out of the building Langford’s producer gives Rupert the bad news. This sends Rupert into further delusions of grandeur.

The rest of the film escalates from incident to incident culminating with Rupert kidnapping Langford and extorting from him an appearance on his show. Rupert does manage to make it onto television which incites a great twist which I won’t reveal. The climax and denouement changes your perspective on De Niro’s character and the whole film itself.

It’s De Niro’s movie and one of his finest performances. Scene after scene we see a side to De Niro we haven’t seen before, or since. His bravura moments are in his mother’s basement where he has set up his own talk show studio set. He plays himself, Langford and his other guests all at once, moving from seat to seat. It’s as good as the famous "are you talking to me" scene in “Taxi Driver.” The dream sequence where he’s having lunch with Langford is also a classic.

The title is perhaps a misnomer as this fourth re-teaming of De Niro with Scorsese is not so much a comedy but a disturbing black comedy that teeters closely into “Taxi Driver” territory. Travis Bickle and Rupert Pupkin are alike (both great screen names). They share the same neuroses. They’re both loners and social outcasts who yearn to be famous or important in society, yet lack the social behaviour skills to succeed. Thinking back, the film was ahead of its time, when in 1983, there was no such thing as reality TV, or instant pop culture stars. Rupert Pupkin would have made a great Survivor contestant, or at the very least achieve William Hung-type success – the ironic celebrity.

Maybe I’m overreaching, but imagine a golfing foursome of Rupert Pupkin, Travis Bickle, Max Cady, and Jake LaMotta. In many ways they are the same - all of them boast an impressive gift of obsessiveness and for perfecting the art of enduring pain and humiliation. Enjoy.
The King of Comedy