Mean Streets (1973)

This is the film that broke Martin Scorsese into the big time and helped launch the careers of Robert De Niro and Harvey Keitel. Its gritty realism and hip cultural awareness was lauded upon its release and it continues to be held in high regards in terms of its originality and historical importance. Sadly, I am unable to give Mean Streets the credit it is due.

Harvey Keitel stars as Charlie, an Italian-American Catholic who is trying to respectably work his way up the ranks in the local Mafia establishment while also trying to atone for his sins by trying to help his off-kilter and borderline sociopathic friend Johnny Boy clean up his act. For Charlie, its purgatory on Earth, as Johnny Boy’s antics grow wilder and more destructive, both outwardly and inwardly. Though saving Johnny Boy from himself is the ideal, Charlie would settle for saving Johnny Boy from Michael a local loan shark tired of being jerked around one too many times by the kid.

Mean Streets is filled with masterful touches. The dialogue is witty but realistic, never sounding false or overdone for one second. Some characters attempt to speak in a dignified manner while others like Johnny Boy keep their vocabulary pleasantly in the low-brow gutter they live in. At the end of the day, they’re all street rats; local bums jostling for position at the bottom of the totem pole. The only difference is who has respect and who doesn’t.

The film is shot on a very intimate scale. Gritty camerawork makes it feel more like a documentary than a film at times. The use of slow motion and voice-overs bring an added flair to an already stylish film. Scorsese provides the voice for Charlie’s conscience and inner-monologue, often times providing a wry outlook on things while Charlie outwardly seems to be having a good time. It helps accentuate Charlie’s inner conflict.

I can’t talk about this film without mentioning the stellar soundtrack, apparently provided almost entirely from Scorsese’s personal record collection. My generation fell in love with Quentin Tarantino’s eclectic and inspired musical selections for his films but there is a difference. While Tarantino includes music that few have heard before for the sake of keeping things interesting, Scorsese includes a stellar mix of popular and secondhand tunes that elevates the hipness, coolness and attitude of his characters to new heights.

While directors like Francis Ford Coppola portrayed organized crime on grand white collar levels, Scorsese focused on the gritty small time hustlers, pushers and loan sharks that make crime dangerous on a day to day level. It’s a far more believable, yet jagged pill to swallow. Instead of stylized violence, allegory and inference, Mean Streets is brutally honest and upfront about everything, no matter how graphic and disturbing it may be. This is why the film was hailed as an American original.

This all sounds like it’s leading to a glowing review and a high rating, right? Well, not exactly. Here’s why- ever since Mean Streets and Scorsese’s ensuing work, this kind of gritty realism and exposure to big city crime on its lowest levels has become the norm. Nowadays a film is almost expected to be brutally honest and realistic if it is to be taken seriously. People in my generation, myself included, have been exposed to this kind of stuff our whole lives and we take it more or less for granted.

After doing some research on Mean Streets, I understand the film’s importance in cinema history and can instantly spot its influence on dozens of motion pictures, but I can’t quite feel the marvel of its originality while watching it. It’s the same problem I encountered while watching films like Frankenstein and Rear Window. I’ve been exposed to so many references, allusions, parodies and spoofs of their themes and concepts in my lifetime that I can’t capture the originality of it all while watching it. It’s as if my film-going experiences have spoiled me from latching on to something truly great.

While I appreciate Scorsese’s breakthrough for all the impact and influence it has had on all the films I watched growing up, and while I understand the cultural and historic importance of the film, Mean Streets is one of the ones that got away; an otherwise great film falling victim to my sometimes-jaded generation.

RATING: 3.5 out of 5

The Departed** (2006)

After finally seeing this film, I was surprised that it managed to win Best Picture at the Oscars. When I think of the Oscars I typically think of films like Gone With the Wind and Casablanca, or West Side Story and (sadly) Shakespeare in Love. Majestic in scope and in some cases artsy, these are the movies that seem to typify what is Oscar material.

The Departed, at first glance is anything but. This is such a guy movie it’s not even funny.

A tough, raw, intense police drama with a stellar cast (can any film with a Baldwin in it claim to have an all-star cast?) grabs you by the throat and won’t let go until it's done telling its story.

Okay, that’s a bit much. There are some slow scenes and it's not all action. In fact, there are some points where I found myself confused as to just what is going on. Fortunately, director Martin Scorsese straightens out this convoluted thriller come the final reel (and what a reel!).

This is a very smart film and treats its thinking viewers with a myriad of twists, turns and plenty of jolts along the way. I can almost guarantee that you will gasp and/or flinch at least once during this movie from all the drama. The Departed is simply a film that is very well put together. With this in mind, it really isn’t so surprising that it won Best Picture. It also helps that the Academy felt particularly bad this past year about neglecting Scorsese all this time.

The Departed certainly fits into the lexicon of Best Picture winners that are very well made, like Platoon, Rocky and The French Connection. Maybe it’s not quite the best picture of the year, but you’d have a tough time faulting the Academy for it.

And I guess that’s what The Departed boils down to- it may not be the greatest picture of the year, but it is one of the most complete in terms of its scope. The acting is brilliant and believable (notably only the third time I can honestly say that I enjoyed Leonardo DiCaprio's performance); Scorsese and his crew work their magic with editing, the soundtrack and score; and the story itself is very well written. But that can’t quite make up for two hugely important factors- 1) This film is a remake of film from Hong Kong called Infernal Affairs, and 2) while the film has many strengths, it doesn’t quite have the staying power that other Best Picture winners have had.

While I have never seen Infernal Affairs, and although this American version was rewritten and likely differs in ways from the original, it’s impossible to escape the stigma that a film is a remake. Instead of Hong Kong, we get Boston. A newly graduated policeman (Leonardo DiCaprio) is hired to infiltrate a notorious gangster’s (Jack Nicholson) criminal empire. Along the way there is denial, deception and death. Things are never quite what they seem, which is the film’s key strength, but it is a bit of a slight to the mind of the viewer to realize that the premise did not originate from the filmmakers presenting it. This isn’t the first time this story has been told, and we have to wonder, has it been done better?

Whatever the answer to that question is, The Departed is undeniably one of the best films of 2006. Whether it was intended to be commercially successful or just appreciable from a film lover's point of view is irrelevant. It was a huge hit, but I doubt it will be remembered as fondly as many of Scorsese’s other works. It is, to date, Scorsese’s highest rated film on my list, but hardly the most memorable.

In the pantheon of Oscar winners for Best Picture, I have a feeling that The Departed is more likely to fall by the wayside like The Last Emperor or The English Patient rather than engraining itself in minds and becoming a commonplace reference in our culture like Forrest Gump, Rain Man or Silence of the Lambs.

Good, but not quite great.

RATING: 3.75 out of 5

Raging Bull* (1980)

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!

This film helped further solidify Robert DeNiro as a Hollywood powerhouse actor. Ironically, while Raging Bull is quite a good movie, it is hardly an enjoyable one. DeNiro plays real-life boxer Jake LaMotta as he rises up the boxing ranks and spirals downward in the ranks as a decent human being.

While at first, LaMotta’s talent and rising fame simply goes to his head. He talks tough and acts tough because he thinks he’s the best. Anyone who thinks otherwise is just a chump. His pride in his own abilities as a boxer soon takes its toll on him. He becomes genuinely egomaniacal, thinking that everyone might as well kiss the ground he walks on. Paranoia sets in as his abilities decline. He doesn’t see it, so he assumes that everyone else has a problem but him. He begins to suspect his wife is cheating on him. At one point he accuses his brother of sleeping with her. He becomes violent, abusive and repugnant. He’s one unlikable guy.

The film gets deeper and deeper into LaMotta’s wretchedness, but eventually he loses his wife and kids, and his brother. He apologizes to his brother towards the end, but I wasn’t left feeling convinced that his apologies and attempted turnaround was sincere.

Probably the most infamous aspect of this film is DeNiro’s decision to gain over 60 pounds to resemble LaMotta later in life. It’s truly shocking to see how much different he looks, and it seems like DeNiro never could quite shed that weight back off. Raging Bull is a tough film to watch and certainly won’t leave you in a cheery mood, but its refusal to spare the ugly details makes it very good.

RATING: 3.5 out of 5