Italianamerican

I got to see a clip of this documentary when Martin Scorsese came to Providence, Rhode Island to accept an award on behalf of Brown University. We got to see a small clip from every directed film that Scorsese had made in his 40 plus year career. Out of all the films, Italianamerican got the biggest laughs and the longest applause. Having been the only Italian and the only person who did not attend Brown University that got into Brown's auditorium (the security was terrible) to see Scorsese, I enjoyed the realism that Scorsese captured by watching his parents be themselves in front of the camera. All the other Irish people who attended the event enjoyed the film as well, but not as much as me.

Martin Scorsese's "Italianamerican" is a documentary, really a home movie in which the legendary director sits down with his parents and listens to them reminisce about their experiences of growing up and coming to America.

This is a beautiful, effortless film by the greatest director of all-time. It's charming, and light-hearted, and so familiar you will be able to relate to his parents whatever your ethnic background.

As an Italian-American myself I have to admit it was like watching one of my own home movies. My grandparents were just like Charles & Catherine Scorsese... my grandmother taught me how to make sauce just like Marty's mother does in the movie. Everything about them- the look of their apartment, the way they speak and argue- made me nostalgic for my childhood days.

At one point Catherine is in the middle of relating one of her stories and you can spot Marty in the foreground picking at the leftovers in the salad bowl... film can be this low-key, this unassuming, and be just as moving as scripted studio fare.

Oh, for days gone by...

This is an intimate portrait of an era that doesn't exist anymore, and who knows whether it will come back ever again (at least in western countries). Personally the first generation born in the States from parents born in Italy should be the only one to be called American/Italian, the following one (Scorsese himself in this case) would "American with Italian roots", but that's just me... Anyway: touching discussion between Scorsese and his parents who, let's not forget, had some stints in the movie industry as actors. The dynamics between the father and the mother are so sweet and lovely that the bitterness of their experiences sits momentarily in the back row.

Love listening to them about who cooks better, who was working where, who couldn't speak English, having property on Staten Island (so to have small lot to grow some veggies), the long and harsh trip by boat.

Seeing Scorsese talking to them, eating at the table and organizing the shot is a pleasure. He was 28 if I'm not mistaken and ready to start working on Taxi Driver... what a time to be alive... This is a must see for not only those who scream "white privilege" (to maybe realize the world is not black and white... pun intended!) but also for aspiring filmmakers to open their eyes and see how much easier it is today to film and focus on a meaningful story, rather than spectacle.

I recently read a pretty vicious attack on Scorsese in an excellent evangelical periodical, Books and Culture. It claimed Scorsese is, in a word, bloodthirsty, and still a street punk at heart.Granted, Scorsese has done his share of bloody films, but the violence which obsesses him isn't PHYSICAL, its emotional. In addition, Scorsese isnt simply obsessed with blood..hes obsessed with honor, tradition,and family. A clue to the shallowness of this critique of Scorsese could be found in the fact that the author actually thought Age of Innocence was just a studio assignment,which Scorsese agreed to do reluctantly. In fact, Scorsese obsessed over Wharton's novel for a decade after his pal, Jay Cocks, gave it to him. Everyone of Scorseses critics should watch this heart-felt, tender, and utterly bloodless film. I really hope he finally gets around to doing his long-planned feature film about his parents courtship,and his own boyhood in little Italy. P.S.the film also inspired me to buy The Scorsese Family cookbook!

The beginning of Martin Scorsese's career had much to do with his urge to portray the Italian-American Roman Catholic experience. Who's That Knocking at My Door and Mean Streets, for instance, are not just films about low-level hoods getting into trouble but on a more profound level dealing with the virtually reflexive affectations born out of their culture, heritage and masculinity complexes. One can see these movies over and over again and discover an undertone never before realized, because is not just Scorsese's interest in the subject but his lifelong saturation in it that gave them such endless dimensions and jittery spirit. Italianamerican, shot after returning from Hollywood to rediscover his ethnic roots, whether or not this home movie of sorts has the same vibrancy or histrionics as the director's features, is the last necessary word on the subject. Any vagueness in imagining the look and feel of the Italian-American middle-class Roman Catholic existence will be enriched by this 50-minute homemade doc.

The Scorseses talk about their experiences as Italian immigrants in New York among other things, while having dinner at their flat on Elizabeth Street. It is purely incidental that Scorsese's father Charles is quiet much of the time, guarded, slowly growing comfortable with the camera, while mother Catherine is with no trouble at all completely her zestful self. Just as if the director had taken us along while visiting his parents, they discuss, with little apparent preparation, the family's origins, their ancestors, life in post-war Italy and the burdens of poor Sicilian immigrants in America struggling to acquire livelihood and earn enough to support their families. She also instructs how to cook her meatballs. If you misunderstand her instruction at all, don't worry; the recipe's in the credits.

Italianamerican is very, well, easy, but it's one of the most endearing things a director has ever done. He shares his parents with us, his old home, the stories that brought him here. The quirks of his parents remind us of those of our own parents. It is pleasant just simply to watch two people who are never afraid to pick a fight with each other, have their many clashing opinions and have learned to let it all slide, to live with each other in peace. Their hostility is not hostility to them; it's just how they talk to each other.