Public Speaking

With the arguable exception of the final shot of Gangs of New York, this cinematic portrait is the closest Scorsese has come to the modern New York, the New York he has seemed to leave behind in his work. He even uses references to his own classic NYC films. There is more than one moment in which Scorsese gently recreates Travis' smoke-filled night driving along apparently red light-style districts, immortalizing the subject of this documentary's pearl grey checker cab, complete with Bernard Herrmann's score, as she is herself a relic of Old NYC, much like Travis. When you're the director of Taxi Driver and you find out your focus of study is a New Yorker who drives an old checker cab, you can't help but be self-referential to portray the contrast between the New York before it became a tourist attraction and the New York of today.

Unlike Travis, however, Scorsese finds this protagonist hilarious. And rightly so, because she is. Public Speaking centers on the antiquated calling of star intellectual Fran Lebowitz. What materializes, then again, is certainly a study of Lebowitz but also by expansion one of a city, and a scholarly culture, that has been severely thinned over the last thirty some years, apparently not for better. The grimy, vigorous, violent city that worked as Scorsese's inspiration is now dead, Lebowitz proposes, maybe accounting for why Scorsese finds little stimulation there of late. What lingers, as per this film's cantankerous figure of interest, is a realm of high-priced real estate and ridiculous smoking bans. Known more for her lecturing appearances than her slight literary productivity, Lebowitz is the ultimate chatterer, which makes her the ultimate interviewee.

Shot chiefly from Lebowitz's favorite table at The Waverly Inn, Public Speaking is like a stand-up film starring a comic who keeps a safe distance from the stand-up characterization. This café, which is one of New York's bona fide old boys' clubs, is a steady prompt that Lebowitz has one foot in yesteryear and another resolutely in the here and now. Scorsese provides Lebowitz abundant occasion to both sardonically criticize the changes in contemporary politics and wax melancholy about the New York of her early life. Absorbing her discourse, one cultivates a true admiration for the talent of her speechifying. Each acerbic jab that she chucks is especially mirthful owing to the foul reality it accommodates. Lebowitz may be rather wedged in days gone by, but she remains there of her own volition, patently asserting that it's preferable to today's cultural wasteland.

What makes Public Speaking most idiosyncratic in Scorsese's body of work is that little seems hallowed in this film, which makes it a bracing aide memoire of a media culture that some time ago was energized by provocative wit and intellect. Lebowitz's stance on religion, the toll of AIDS, gentrification and celebrity are each relatively scandalous in this current atmosphere of cut-and-dried idea sanitization, but the sense behind assertions like these is difficult to wave. Lebowitz at this stage has little concern with charming new fans, so sure is she of the pitiful shape of her audience. The surprise she pretends whenever a young person makes a perceptive remark says a lot. Scorsese, for his part, does little to water down or even interpret what she has to say, in spite of one's patience for a personality that's so plainly immutable. Knowing the director's roster of religiously imbued, guilt-ridden characters, one wonders how shocking Lebowitz's views are to him. Regardless of whether or not he felt that way, one also sees in that repertoire of protagonists a nonjudgmental, deferential teller of their stories. In this way, Public Speaking, for better or worse, does its subject justice and finds little else necessary.

Fran Leboits is an uncommon woman. The film is basically one long, casual interview.

She's a fast-talking, witty, very opinionated, intriguing story-teller. Her humor reminds me of a less crass, less cynical version of George Carlin. She talks about being a woman, the biological inequality of women (which I rarely get to hear anywhere), homosexuality, the military, marriage, her cigarette addiction, "elites", American culture, democracy, a little bit of everything. Instead of ramming her Jewish background down your throat, she makes humorous, poignant observations. Definitely check it out, especially if you live in or around NYC.

Public Speaking (2010)

*** (out of 4)

This HBO documentary caught my attention because Martin Scorsese's name was attached to it so that alone was reason enough for me to order the station. The so-called documentary is more like an intimate interview with writer Fran Lebowitz who is best known for her books Metropolitan Life and Social Studies. She's also known for her rather dry wit as well as her sometimes outspoken views on race, life and writers in general. This latest documentary from Scorsese really isn't a film that tries to teach you anything. I'll admit that I had never heard of Lebowitz so perhaps I was in a disadvantage going into this film but in the end I really don't think I learned anything about the woman. That's not to say this film isn't educational but I think it's main goal was just to showcase the woman and not necessarily give us her life story. We briefly hear her talk about her early life, her days in NYC and various things she did before she became famous but we usually hear these parts as they connect to something else. Lebowitz talks about people who feel that NYC was better before it became a tourist attraction. We hear her talk about the good that came from Obama being elected and the joke is that it was good simply because we don't have to keep wondering when the first black President would be elected. She gives her views on why writers should know something. We hear about smokers, people who write books when they shouldn't and of course she touches on a wide range of subjects. Lebowitz is shown at a couple public speaking events and she's also interviewed by Scorsese and another man sitting at a table. Did this film make me interested in Lebowitz? It did to a point but I don't think I'm going to be a life long fan thanks to the film. As usual Scorsese does a nice job and I really enjoyed the way he edited the piece by jumping from one interview to the next and constantly keeping everything going at a fast pace. The film runs 82-minutes and there's quite a bit covered in the rather short running time. Again, I'm sure Lebowitz has many die-hard fans out there and I'm positive they're going to love seeing her in an intimate session.

This is the blueprint for Scorcese's TV miniseries, Let's Pretend It's a City. Both let Fran Leibowitz speak her interesting mind. That's pretty much all there is, but it's enough.

A truly delightful and enlightening experience. Fran Lebowitz guides the viewer through her experience with a multitude of famous, and now deceased, great artists. Although Fran is 14 years my junior, she has grasped the essence of America. A scene with Pack Paar and Oscar Levant is gracefully mixed with sound bites from William Buckley, Jr and the fine playwrights of the last century. I felt a great deal of empathy for her when she discussed what turned out to be a big guffaw at an outdoor rally organized by Joe Papp. Arts oriented persons should feel perfectly at home listening to her monologue. Whether I watch the History Channel, PBS or HBO, seldom is there as entertaining a story as this. This is a solid recommendation for anyone who wants an in depth personal account of the arts.