A Review : New York, New York (1977)

Hmm, I'm not sure how easy it's going to be to review this film. I want to try and balance the good aspects with the not so good. I'll see how it goes.

This film is, for one, quite long. Apparently the original was four and a half hours long so director Martin Scorsese had to cut it. Well it went through a series of cuts and then a restoration of extra material, before finally standing at 163 minutes. How did I bare it? I rarely noticed the length, such is the engagement I had with the film.

But engagement doesn't necessarily equal a flawless film experience. I did have issues with the film, mostly because it doesn't move in a typical, familiar way. It's not simply a musical, nor simply a dramatic love story nor simply a comedy (because actually a lot of it is comedic, sometimes awkwardly so--deliberatly I think). It aims to be all and then to transcend genres and be something else.

The film could be what you may call a homage to those technicolour musicals of the 40s and 50s. It has some of the most beautiful colours swirled together and you can just tell that the scenes are taking place on lush, romanticised sets that probably bear little resemblance to New York as it actually was. But at the same time the film wants to express truth and it does this through Liza Minelli (as Francine Evans) and Robert De Niro's (as Jimmy Doyle) tumultous relationship. There's a certain tension between the artifice and the attempted reality of emotions, and I'm not sure if it works. However, I will admit that this tension adds a certain poignancy to the film (it is somewhat reminescent of watching the 1954 version of A Star is Born, starring none other than Liza's mother, Judy Garland).

Another tidbit is the seeming bipolarity (a word?) within the film. It goes through certain hyperactive moments and tries to balance this with more subdued, tender scenes. I'm not sure, but this could partly be because of the following trivia: both Scorsese and Minelli have stated that the dialogue was mostly improvised (though taking cues from the script) to add to the seeming reality of the main characters' relationship. Apparently it was hard to edit these improvisations and still make the film seem like seamless viewing. And so it feels apparent in the film, for when I examine the film as a whole I get some points of disjointedness. But again, I can somehow rebut this by saying that the film becomes truer to real life this way. Sure, we love a flawless film, but they aren't life. If we were to review our lives as a film we wouldn't get such a seamlessness. This is where, as a film New York, New York has room for improvement, but as a piece of reality, it works much better. Interesting that it can become this within the bounds of a lavishly photographed film.

So it turns out that when I get to the bottom of things, the above mentioned aspects of the film don't bother me much at all; they're simply passing observations. Perhaps the uneasiness I really have with the film is Robert De Niro's performance. I'm sure it's written in his character to be a tryhard Joe Cool and to be at times overbearing, arrogant and chauvinistic. However, there were times when I found him to be overdoing it. Maybe this is a feminist's perspective, but one has to ask what Liza's Francine really saw in De Niro's Jimmy. But then it got me thinking that indeed he does have a bit of charm and when he's tender and subdued, he's very likeable. Plus, he's a talented saxophone player which somewhat gels with her singing skills.

And I suppose there's this: in filmdom fantasy, only the most perfect man will do for the heroine. He's got to be effortlessly funny like Cary Grant and never be overbearing. And yet, often as he does, De Niro is attempting here to portray a person, not a movie-star persona. However, unlikeable he can be in this role (sometimes hamming it up), he's being that much more truer to life. In life, nothing moves smoothly, nobody has quite the right lines like in the perfect comedy; and nobody has the right things to say in painful scenes.

And actually I can't deny that there are some scenes where De Niro really excels (in that, rather than getting choppy moments of overacting, you're getting a more complete character), and you feel all at once that he's fading into the background, that he's quite not so successful without Francine. That underneath the Joe Cool act there's a bit of self-loathing. No it's not likely the performance that is going to make it into the top De Niro performances list, but it deserves to be looked at for both its flaws and triumphs.

I think Liza's Francine comes across as much more sympathetic. Her character development is less jagged than De Niro's and we can gradually see her move from wall-flower-ish singer to confident star. She has a notable naturalistic acting (perhaps helped by the improvisations) and her emotion-charged scenes work well. On a somewhat more aesthetic note, she looks quite stunning in the film. I also want to bring attention to her big eyes that are particularly haunting in one close-up scene. Her singing moments are also note-worthy for being in turns entertaining and poignant.

Just by writing this review, I'm starting to see something very special in New York, New York. It's an interesting, bumpy experience (just like Francine and Jimmy's relationship). It made me laugh, cringe, feel uneasy and all the while my eyes received such a treat through the cinematography and art design. An intriguing blend of a film that somehow transports you back to post-war 40s through a 1970s Scorsese lens.

"Reader, I married him"

I'm re-reading Jane Eyre for Literature and falling in love with it again. It's my 'it had to be you' book (for all your faults/I love you still) because it is in fact flawed, yet it still retains something special. Jane Eyre, with all her plainness and quietness, is an intriguing character. She's observant and acutely aware of things that nobody else cares to see. Rochester (move over Cullen, this is the real Edward) is incredibly questionable in his morals and his treatment of Jane, yet she gets him--even if a lot of readers don't--and he happens to be just as observant as she, however immersed in his troubles he may be. And for the record, it never detracted from the book that Bronte's main characters happen to be 'ugly'. Maybe because I always reached the conclusion that:
a) they're not that 'ugly', they're unconventional
b) whatever the case, they have attractive qualities that speak louder than exterior appearances

Anyway, I just wanted to put on this blog a powerful passage (courtesy of Charlotte Bronte's moments of inspired poetry) about Jane 'getting' Rochester, while simultaneously revealing the hidden, profound love she fosters for him.

I saw Rochester smile - his stern features softened; his eye grew both brilliant and gentle, its ray both searching and sweet. He was talking, at the moment, to Louisa and Amy Eshton. I wondered to see them receive with calm that look which seemed to me so penetrating; I expected their eyes to fall, their colour to rise under it; yet I was glad when I found they were in no sense moved. 'He is not to them what he is to me,' I thought: 'he is not of their kind. I believe he is of mine - I am sure he is - I feel akin to him - I understand the language of his counteance and movements: though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in my brain and in my heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him.

<3

[I'm still waiting for the perfect film companion to the book, though the 2006 BBC version was pretty good. I think Rochester is not too difficult to capture on screen, he's naturally a fascinating and engaging character. What's harder is to capture Jane Eyre without making her dull or submissive, and also not to increase her age--she never quite looks eighteen in the film versions. But Ruth Wilson in the aforementioned BBC version was pretty good...gosh I gotta watch that again...]

In other news, I found out via email that one of the dvds I requested of the city library to purchase has come through and it's ready for me to borrow. I say, Christmas has come early. Why? Because this is not any film, it's Martin Scorsese's sole musical feature (as far as I know), called none other than 'New York, New York' (with that famous theme song). Liza Minelli and Robert De Niro? It's sure going to be one of the most intriguing pairings I've seen.

30s and 40s : Glitz, Glamour, Drama, Humour, Wonder

I've had a really good run of films lately, and they've been mostly from the 30s, early 40s (I'm going back to my classic roots). Here are some little summaries from the best of the bunch:

Come Live With Me (1941) - Hedy Lamarr and James Stewart make an interesting couple. She's foreign and has a raven beauty (well she was dubbed the most beautiful woman in Hollywood) and he's the everyman. But they make it work. The film has some comedy and clever lines, but at heart it's a (albeit light) love story. It has some nice cinematography (particularly when considering these films were usually made on the studio lot) and nice performances (I've seen one other Hedy film, Ziegfeld Girl, and she was unfortunately cardboard bland in it. But in this film she is much comfortable and engaging). Overall a very enjoyable film.

It's a Wonderful World (1939) - Another Jimmy Stewart film, and this time he's paired with Claudette Colbert (one of the fine comediennes of the 30s imo). Again, they're not the couple you'd expect to be paired up, but they work fine. There's a particular scene where Colbert's character has to get up on Stewart's back (this is a screwball comedy so it's to be expected) so she can get apples from the tree. The processes of this action and its results show a real naturalness between the actors and great comedic timing from both. The rest of the film is great lighthearted fun and was much more enjoyable than I was expecting (since it's not talked much of, I naturally thought it wasn't good).

My Best Girl (1927) - This was my first Mary Pickford film and it didn't disappoint. The fascinating thing about Mary was that she was quite young looking and played ingenues even when she was well passed thirty (as she is in this picture). She was also short and petite and cute, which I guess helps. Here she was teamed with a younger man, Charles 'Buddy' Rogers (just about the cutest, baby-faced looking guy in silent filmdom), who would later become her husband. It's no surprise I say because they have quite good chemistry in this. There's such a lovely boy/girl cuteness between them, but also tenderness in one particular close-up scene. The film is on a whole pretty funny and very lovely, capturing a sweetness that only other silent films of its kind can capture.

The Barretts of Wimpole Street (1934) - I'm generally a sucker for period romantic films, but I'll admit that they're not always well made. That said, this one is wonderful. I think it might be because the romance is not overbearing (nor under utilised), and also the heroine is a fascinating character. I've never cared much for Norma Shearer (I've only seen her in The Women, where she played arguably the dull character amongst show-stoppers), but watching this has made me re-examine her. I don't know if she was Oscar-nominated [edit: she was nominated, yay], but she should have been. The story itself is fascinating. It's about the poet Elizabeth Barrett's life around the time that she met and fell in love with Robert Browning (played by the handsome Fredric March, though his performance was a little over the top, or maybe that's how Browning was?). They have one obstacle, her overbearing and possessive father (played to perfection by Charles Laughton) who doesn't want his children to marry. The film is a winner for me.

Romance in Manhattan (1935) - I've seen about five (now six with this new inclusion) of Ginger Roger's films sans Fred Astaire, and each of them have given me a different outlook on her. As it is, different co-stars and settings can bring a different dynamic to an actor's performance. In this film, Ginger still keeps up her 30s, no-nonsense, yet wise-cracking working class girl persona, but she brings something a little varied to the plate. This time she has to deal with the Great Depression (it was also an issue in Swing Time, but somehow there wasn't a doubt she'd pull through financially). I don't know if Romance in Manhattan is classified as a comedy, but it's through-and-through drama for me with a side-dish of smiles. Ginger is great as the struggling working girl who has to find a way to prevent both her brother from going to an orphanage and her newfound Czechoslovakian lover (Francis Lederer, also very good and sympathetic in this) from being deported. Up until that final reel I still didn't know if the ending would be happy or not (though, alas, the ending is happy--perhaps wishfulfillment happy, but I'm not complaining; it would otherwise have been a painful film).

I Love You Again (1940) - I just watched this one today and boy, William Powell and Myrna Loy can do no wrong when they're together. Now this is the screen couple upon which all others are measured. In my opinion, nobody quite has the believability that they do. Their chemistry is mostly known for its comedic qualities, but blended in this comedy is much affection and a dash of romance. In their own rights they are fine actors and they make this film possible, which would otherwise probably not work (the plot is slightly absurd and the comedy could easily have been uninteresting and unfunny if actors with less enjoyment and dedication to their work had been on board). That said, the plot does run smoothly and this film is very funny and has meaning. Powell and Loy are wonderful, unique talents.

.Fin.

Up-lifting music

I've been listening to some ace music and watching some ace films lately, but I haven't been doing that dreaded two-part word that will be addressed here only as 'hw'. Yes, I have two essays due in on Wednesday (which means I still have three days and whatever is left of this day, but still I also have classes on those days too, so I really don't have much time). The best break from stressing would be to actually do the work, but no, I'll take blogging instead.

I saw Up (2009), the latest Pixar wonder last week and I loved it. Films of its calibre are just peerless. Before they come along, you feel like you've seen the height of filmmaking. And then you watch this superior film and you realise that filmmaking has no limits. Up has what I call the perfect blend, and that is of comedy and drama (which--as Jack Lemmon said and probably Charlie Chaplin affirmed this--is what life is about). Watching it, I laughed hard (to the point of tears) and I felt sad and inspired (to the point of tears). And I generally don't expect animations to make me feel the sort of emotions I expect from live-action films. And yet Pixar's Up does what even live-action doesn't. It's so balanced that it never feels cheesy, nor too silly. And all the while it has meaning.

One wonderful thing about Up is its soundtrack. My particular favourite song is 'Married Life' and it has everything -- happiness, sadness, excitement, quietness. And on top of that it has this nostalgic, 30s/40s feel to it that makes me happy. I made a tribute video set to it just recently, of classic film marriages (what else?). I'll probably post it on yt later in the week.

I also found out that my favourite scene in 17 Again is set to the Cat Power song 'The Greatest' and I realise that half the emotion of the scene is directly from the song. I've been listening to it frequently, but such incessant listening has worn off the impact of the song. Oh well, it's still lovely.

And then...I've heard of Sarah Blasko for a while now. She's apparently one of those quiet achievers who slip under the cover if you're not paying enough attention. She's got a nice, indie, mellow voice (the kind that's pretty popular now). I really like the songs 'Planet New Year' and 'Perfect Now'.

That's all for the moment.

A Review: Taxi Driver (1976)

The alternate title for this entry was going to be 'Taxi Driver Or: How I Learned to Stop Postponing and Watch This Film' (a thinly veiled reworking of the film title 'Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb'--coincidentally another film I have to get around to).

There were a few reasons why I took my time in watching Taxi Driver. They are as follows.
1) It was really only recently that I got the urge to want to watch it.
2) I didn't have access to it--today I was lucky enough to find it on the cheap at a dvd store
3) Its R rating was a deterrence (I was expecting lots of violence--yes there's violence, but it wasn't over the t)

Even though I say I was avoiding it, I nonetheless had high expectations about it (It's considered one of Martin Scorsese's best, it's one of the landmarks of the American New Wave, it has much hype over at imdb and elsewere). When I have high expectations I tend to look more closely at every tendril of a film and anticipate the 'wow' moment. Of course, it never comes. But with Taxi Driver what did rush over me at the roll of the closing credits was still positive. The film has much going for it.

I could go on about a few different things. The music was probably the first thing that striked me. It was scored by Bernard Hermann (most known for scoring Hitchcock films--in fact some of the music in Taxi Driver could easily be substituted into a Hitchcock film, that's what I think anyway). There's two recurring music themes in this film. I don't know their titles, but one has this low, humming dangerous feel, and the other one has a more saxophone seedy/sensual sound to it (sort of reminds me of the music they sometimes put on soapies--except Taxi Driver is by no means a soapie). As it usually goes with motion picture music, Hermann's score helps in the creation of the film's atmosphere. The music anticipates the bleakness and loneliness to come.

Of the performances, Robert De Niro as the main character, Travis Bickle, is of course the standout. The intriguing thing about Travis is that if he were a guy in your suburb you'd cast him off as a loony and would want nothing to do with him. Yet since the film gives us a look into Travis' private world and as we're with him for most of the film, you can't help but feel sympathy for him.

Bickle is a Vietnam veteran who has now taken the path of a cab driver. His mundane existence consists of cab driving, taking pills and porn theatres. He's also a pretty observant person and we see that as he witnesses all the seediness and corruption of New York's nightlife. He feels growing despair towards these things and vows to 'clean up' the city. But cleaning up turns into a gun and violence fetish. De Niro portrays Travis' bundle of contradictions--as Bickle's one time love interest Betsy put it--really well (quite characteristically to his dedication to acting, he apparently spent many months refining his taxi driving skills and brushed up on his knowledge on insanity).

Yet the piece of acting that made my jaw figuratively drop was that from a young (12 years old in fact) Jodie Foster, portraying an underage prostitute. It was pretty astonishing to see her talk--and convincingly--about prostitution and the like. Foster's acting is really natural, there's nothing self-conscious about it. Her performance adds to the grittiness of the film.

And what to say about the director that is Martin Scorsese? (On a quick side-note, he actually plays a minor but significant character--a mentally unstable man plotting to kill his wife; he's pretty good).

I have seen six films of Scorsese (do I count The Aviator though? It's been quite a long time since I've seen it) and so far he has a flawless track record. His films flow well and all have smooth editing, it's such that it's hard for me to actually speak of Scorsese's directing and what it achieves. Except that it achieves what filmmaking should--he let's the story be told and to be told well. He also happens to be a daring director in my opinion, anyone would be to make something like 'Taxi Driver'. I think (as the cliche goes), if it were in lesser hands the film wouldn't have been quite as good. I think it was also a risky film because Scorsese seems to me the director who makes each project personal, he seems to put a lot into his films, and it's not unlike the risk that actors put when they're out on stage or in front of a stagecrew. You're exposed to scrutiny.

What can be said in short of Taxi Driver? Only that I think it's a film that's rightfully praised, except that I don't want to blow it out of proportion. It didn't have that loud spark, but alas sometimes the impact of that kind of film can quickly fizzle out anyway. No, I think Taxi Driver more quietly and deeply weaves into the consciousness and promises to stay there for longer.