New York, New York

In one of those stunning displays of illogic that can only exist in truly bad films, Martin Scorsese has slavishly recreated the look and feel of old-time movie musicals only so that he can tell a dark and abusive story designed to show just how artificial those old-time musicals were. The result is less a celebration than a eulogy. Indeed, even his template for this film is not anything by Astaire and Rogers or Gene Kelly or even MGM, but the torch song tear-jerking melodramas like A STAR IS BORN or LOVE ME OR LEAVE ME. Musical salutes to domestic violence, as it were. Leave it to Scorsese to resurrect a comatose genre, only so that he could recreate its most depressing subcategory.

To his credit, Scorsese certainly did nail the look of those old Hollywood films. Actually, he surpassed them. The art direction is a clever blend of the somewhat realistic and the obviously artificial and the cinematography catches the richness and the textures of the pseudo-Technicolor. Some scenes in the film are sights to behold. Nobody should doubt Scorsese's eye for visuals. It is his empathy for humanity that so often falls short.

Even so, NYNY as a musical isn't much to talk about; as a love story it is a disaster. The two stars, Liza Minnelli and Robert DeNiro, have no chemistry personally, plus they come from two different acting backgrounds that don't mesh at all. Liza is theatrical pizzazz, while Robert is grunt and groan method. This is made worse by a screenplay in which they are given little to do beyond argue. The incongruity of the two styles, the two characters and the two actors remains at the forefront since so many of their scenes are confrontational. In concept, I suppose, the oil-and-water idea of a show biz sassy Sally Boles sharing the stage with an inarticulate schmo like Jack LaMotta seems amusing; in action, its just embarrassing.

Minnelli, no doubt, was hired because she was the biggest musical movie star at the time (and being Judy Garland's daughter didn't hurt either). DeNiro is here because, well, because it is a Martin Scorsese movie. Whatever the case, the two actors do not register as a couple. Minnelli comes off best and, at least, gets the opportunity to belt out a couple of songs. It is not surprising that her best moments come when she is center stage alone. Her rendition of the title song is the film's show-stopping highlight; indeed, it is the only reason to endure the rest of the movie. Unfortunately, DeNiro, once again giving a one-note performance of a one-note character, is insufferable. He rants and raves and generally overacts, never once revealing a positive or even engaging aspect to the character, a paranoid, possessive and self-obsessed creep. Sort of a Jake LaMotta with a saxophone. Had the film allowed us to see a side of him that would make him appealing to Minnelli, if not the audience, or even showed him to be a clear-cut villain, exploiting Minnelli's talent to enhance his own career, then at least there would be a reason for the romance/marriage to exist. As is, the two are a couple as a plot device only.

Indeed, as the lumbering story builds to a finale in which the big question is whether the two will reunite, the only genuine response is "Who cares?" The maddening thing about NEW YORK NEW YORK is not just the utter emptiness of the drama, but the waste of effort that went behind it. Scorsese obviously went to great lengths to recreate the look, sound and tone of 1940/50's movies, then squanders it all on a story that had little hope whatsoever of being anything but dull and dreary. Once again, as a stylist, Scorsese is a master; as a person with a sense of empathy and a soul he doesn't even bother. Great movies are made with the heart as well as the eye. As the old saying goes, he can play the notes, but he can't play the music.

The third collaboration between Martin Scorsese & Robert De Niro finds the duo teaming up to deliver a downright boring & unbearably overlong musical tribute to the titular state. New York, New York is as awful, insufferable & outrageous as its protagonist and isn't just one of Scorsese's weakest directorial efforts but also ranks amongst the worst films I've ever seen.

From its opening moments, the film leaves no stone unturned to make us despise De Niro's character who comes off as one pestering, selfish, egotistical & maniacal bum with no redeeming quality. And then it makes the viewers lose all respect for Liza Minnelli's character as well after she keeps making the stupid choices despite all the red flags, thus leaving us no characters to root for.

The lavish production, artificial set pieces and a couple musical numbers do stand out but the story is unnecessarily & overly stretched to 163 long minutes which is very much felt. De Niro plays a loser for the third time in a row in as many outings with Scorsese, delivering an unsurprisingly natural performance, whereas Minnelli does well with what she's given but there's nothing interesting about her role.

Overall, New York, New York is an absolutely bland, tedious & uninteresting ride that follows two forgettable characters who are neither compatible nor likeable, and it literally made me wish for the ending even before the first act got over. A hell of a chore, this homage/parody/satire of Hollywood musicals is an endlessly dull & effortlessly despicable mess that makes sitting through its events feel like an achievement in itself.

The first thing that needs to be said about Scorsese's highly underrated "New York, New York" is that it can't possibly be fully appreciated by anyone who hasn't seen films like "An American in Paris" and "Singin' in the Rain". Scorsese's film is very much a pastiche (or parody, depending on your perspective) of these earlier musicals by MGM. The entire formula for the film is based around them. Stylistically attractive visuals, light and witty dialogue, a romance at the center of the story, and a foray into narratively digressive musical territory toward the end of the film. It's all there.

This hypotextual reflection of Hollywood's golden age, however, is only half the picture. The other half is that this is very much a Scorsese film, despite many claims to the contrary. Scorsese's hallmarks are all over it. We have Robert De Niro in the lead role, playing an oppressive, dominant alpha male personality type, amplified by a bit of that good old-fashioned Italian-American upbringing that Scorsese knew so well. Harvey Keitel played this character in "Who's That Knocking at My Door" and "Mean Streets" (and even "Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore", in a lesser role), and now, for "Taxi Driver", "New York, New York", "Raging Bull", and even "Casino", it's De Niro.

I've seen nineteen Scorsese films, and this is by far the most cinematographically impressive of them all. The lighting is flawless; the direction exemplary. Scorsese has always been a top talent in terms of his technical skills as a director, but visually, this film is stunning on an entirely different level. The film's aesthetic seeks to mimic the visual attractiveness of those classic Hollywood musicals (Scorsese even gives us a few false backgrounds, just for good measure), and in that way it was very successful. This film is eye candy on a par with Wong Kar-wai's "In the Mood for Love", Korine's "Spring Breakers", Refn's "Only God Forgives", or Fassbinder's "Lola".

As for the film's content, about which too little has been written, the entire thematic core of the film is reflected in the casting of its two principal parts: First, we have Robert De Niro, the classic Scorsese casting choice, playing very much the same character we've seen him play in other Scorsese films. On the other end, we have Liza Minnelli, the daughter of none other than Judy Garland, the ultra-famous musical actress of Hollywood's glory days. And Liza's father? Vincente Minelli, director of famous Hollywood musicals like "The Band Wagon", "Gigi", and "An American in Paris". Scorsese throws these two characters together in a violent tempest of passion and suffocating possessiveness. But we, the audience, are also witnessing two worlds being thrown together: De Niro represents Scorsese's world — his vision of a reality steeped in alpha male aggression and hyper-possessiveness over females — and Liza Minnelli, daughter of the golden age of Hollywood, represents that other, make-believe world of American culture — that unique brand of lighthearted escapism and pure cinematic fantasy that Hollywood produced so enticingly in the '30s, '40s, and '50s. Cinematically, we are watching traditional Hollywood fantasy pitted against a vaguely Cassavetes-esque realism.

What will happen when these two disparate realities attempt to coexist? Well, Scorsese doesn't offer an outright answer, except to say it will be difficult — extremely difficult. Hollywood fantasy has created in the American mentality a world of misplaced priorities and unrealistic expectations regarding life. When the film begins, Minnelli's character seems to have her life together in a way that few Scorsese characters do (naturally, since she's not from Scorsese's world — she is born of that distant land called Hollywood). And then De Niro enters her life, from the other end of the spectrum, and emotionally shatters her to pieces. And so it's very much a film about the conflict between reality and fantasy. Ultimately, reality obliterates fantasy.

The musical detour (the film-within-the-film at the end of the movie) has been the source of a lot of criticism, but once again, no one who's seen "An American in Paris" or "Singin' in the Rain" would be surprised by it. It was a structural necessity if the film was going to accurately echo the formula of those older films, as it clearly intended to do. That being said, I will admit that, at 160+ minutes in length, to abandon over two hours of plot and move into a musical digression so late in the film certainly tests the viewer's patience. There is a moment in this segment, however, that makes it all worthwhile. In this moment, we see movie theater viewers sitting in their seats watching a film, looking straight at us (the camera is placed behind what would be the screen of their theater), and behind them is the projector, casting its image directly at us. And so just as we are sitting in our theater watching them stare at the screen (at us), they are, perhaps, sitting in their theater watching us stare at our screen. And so Scorsese subtly implicates us into the film's themes of fantasy versus reality. Their reality has become our fantasy, and, possibly, our reality has become their fantasy.

The final shot of the film is a reference to Gene Kelly's most memorable moment from "Singin' in the Rain". De Niro is in the street. He stands still, propping himself up with an umbrella. The camera pans down to his feet, pausing on them for a moment. The credits roll. We are left to savor the bitter and disenchanting taste of a reality so contrary to the one that Hollywood has offered us. De Niro was standing on a road that could have very well been the same one on which Gene Kelly sung in the rain with his umbrella. But there is no singing here, the umbrella is closed, and those feet aren't dancing. Reality has decimated the Hollywood fantasy.

RATING: 8.00 out of 10 stars

Good musical with De Niro and Minelli giving excellent performances as a pair of aggravating people. Both of them constantly had me grinding my teeth over their silly inability to get along with either each other or, in De Niro's case, with most anybody else. This sax blowing moron couldn't get his mind off himself long enough to notice that there were other folks in the world along with his royal presence. What a s**t! Francine Evans, Minelli, hacked me off about as much as the donuthead she married because he was so transparently phony and she still fell for his every line. Are women stupid? Even though I despised Jimmy Doyle and was aghast at Francine's glossy eyed belief in every thing that came out of this con man's platinum tonsiled throat, I still enjoyed the film, especially the big band music....and Liza can really belt out a song...besides being pretty.

New York, New York is Scorcese's most underrated film. Ahead of its time, out of the mainstream of mundane tastes, and both a tribute and a criticism of the musicals of the 40s and 50s, New York, New York is constantly misunderstood - especially by a culture weened on Rambos and Die Hards. DeNiro is a misogynist; Minnelli, a codependent. The characters are not necessarily supposed to be likeable or easily understood. They are consciously not written to be cozy, comfey typical boy-meets-girl characters. Like any couple caught in the disease of romantic addiction and career obsession, Jimmy Doyle (DeNiro) and Francine Evans (Minnelli) depict flaws that approach hyper-visibility within the context of fake scenery, big brassy musical numbers, a slow pace, and sparse dialogue. It's not that there isn't any normative plot; there just doesn't NEED to be one. Through its minimalism, NY, NY breaks boundaries for musicals in the way that Ingmar Berman films broke ground for European movies. In the 70s, people were tired of musicals and Star Wars had been released. Out with the "old," in with the new. NY, NY only LOOKED like the old movies that modern culture was trying to get away from. Had people looked at it as parody (a trend that was to consume 80s cinema), NYNY would have been seen through a truer lens. DeNiro is tempermental, insensitive, and bombastic. Minnelli is shy and patient. DeNiro is jealous and insecure. Minnelli is focused and self-assured. Minnelli, in fact, not only evokes the period, she IS the period. Her doe-shaped eyes are not lost behind her extravagant custumes, and Minnelli's voice is the best of her career, displaying everything from subtlety (in songs like "You are my Lucky Star," and "There Goes the Ball Game") to power and emotion (in "But the World Goes 'Round," and "The Man I Love"). Minnelli's classic rendition of the title song is a show stopper, coming on the heals of a 15-minute production number entitled "Happy Endings" that takes the film into a three-dimensional surreality, for within "Happy Endings" (the movie within the movie) is a ANOTHER movie called "Aces High," where a sequined Liza combines the personas of Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russel into a single glamorous diva. The film's downbeat ending is actually a sign of strength for the Minnelli character, and DeNiro's Doyle is left alone to ponder the love he left behind.