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Aviator: Martin Scorsese – filmmaking without autopilot By
Shannon Blanks He walks into a local
drugstore. The features are familiar enough by now. The short stature
and concerned eyes; the clean-shaven face offers a strong contrast
to the fully bearded maverick of his younger years. But most importantly,
there are the eyebrows. Even before the mile-a-minute breathless rant
totally gives him away, the eyebrows tell us that Martin Scorsese
is gracing our screen. True to his public persona,
the nitpicking perfectionist offers withering self-criticism of some
snapshots he took at a nephew’s birthday party. “Far too nostalgic,”
he says of one, his dissatisfaction escalating until he proclaims,
“I’ve lost the narrative thread. … I’ve got to reshoot.” Walking
away from the counter, a frustrated Scorsese calls “the nephew” on
a cell phone and asks, “Timmy, it’s your Uncle Marty. How’d you like
to turn 5 again?” This
promo spot for American Express aired during this year’s Oscar show;
oddly enough, it’s probably the most successful campaign Scorsese
has ever managed to mount during Oscar season. But how close to home
does this satirical television spot hit? Is
Scorsese simply having some fun with his image at his own expense?
Or is there a biting truth to his critical remarks? There
are those who believe directing is a young man’s sport, making the
claim that far too often great artists toil around in the business
far past their prime. The
lukewarm reception and Oscar shutout received by Scorsese’s lovechild,
“Gangs of New York,” caused many critics to raise such questions surrounding
Scorsese’s unquestionable but possibly diminishing talent. One of
his most formidable cinematic offspring offered his opinion on the
subject recently. “If I say Martin Scorsese's
movies are getting kind of geriatric and everything, he can say, F---
you, man! I'm doing what I want to do, I'm following my muse, and
he's 100 percent right. I'm in my church praying to my god and he's
in his church praying to his. There was a time we were in the same
church, and I miss that.” Far too
nostalgic Whether
you agree with his comment or not, the current king of “Cool Cinema”
has brought up an interesting point. Would it be fair to say that
Martin Scorsese has reached a point where he has said all he is going
to say? Have his movies suddenly become pale imitations of his masterpieces
of yesteryear? There
were those who couldn’t get past the overwhelming shadow of “Goodfellas’
” brilliance to see any value in the excessive violence and grandiose
decadence displayed in “Casino.” There were even more who thought
“Bringing out the Dead” was a sorely placed misstep by an overindulgent
albeit masterful auteur, whose failures only stirred up wistful memories
of one of his most revered works, “Taxi Driver.” There
are certain truisms to the accusations that suggest the film world’s
most beloved cinephile has lost the “Midas touch.” For one, there
are certain Scorsese trademarks that have become just that, trademarks.
The novelty of the mix-tape rock ’n’ roll score is gone, picked up
and refined by such young and diverse talent as the aforementioned
Tarantino, Danny Boyle and Wes Anderson, among others. The elaborate
camera work, quick cuts during swish-pans, close-up insert shots,
freeze-frames and choreographed tracking shots have been poured over
and absorbed by such talented and diverse auteurs as P.T.
Anderson, Tarantino and even David Fincher
to a certain extent. They have integrated the brilliant work of Martin
Scorsese into their own personal vision, just as Scorsese integrated
the camera work of such disparate and masterful filmmakers such as
Max Ophuls, Francois Truffuat and Samuel Fuller into his own. But
to discredit Scorsese for his influence on modern filmmaking is to
ignore an artist who has never fallen victim to inertia, an artist
in constant evolution. Those who question “Casino’s” validity as an
entry into the Scorsese canon fail to see or appreciate the sweeping
character arcs that elevate his sights beyond the neon colored streets
of Las Vegas, drawing subtle and poignant parallels between the greed
of common hoodlums to the overindulgence of American consumerism at
the time. They fail to appreciate an artist still as obsessed with
the tiniest of details, his obsessive behavior mirroring that of his
own characters (think about the scene in which Sam Rothstein requests
that an equal number of blueberries be placed in every muffin). Many
critics and disappointed fans only saw the similar stylizations and
familiar characterizations played by familiar actors as more of a
reason to hold the film up against “Goodfellas” instead of judging
the film on its own merits. The same could be said for “Bringing out
the Dead,” whose insomniatic, lonely drifter prowling the seedy, underlit
streets of late-night New York prompted many critics to dub the film
“Ambulance Driver.” The
comparisons between Frank Pierce and Travis Bickle do eventually meet
at an end. What many fail to see is the humanity inherent in the character
of Frank Pierce, so effectively brought to life by a brave and heartfelt
performance by Nicolas Cage. Where as “Taxi Driver’s” study of loneliness
and self-imposed alienation remains as poignant today as it was 25
years ago, the difference between the two characters can be found
in Travis Bickle’s choice to remain on the fringes of society, which
stands in stark contrast to Frank Pierce’s desire to integrate himself
back in the folds of common everyday life. He is tired of being a
grief mop for the misplaced souls who wander through the vast terrain
of the city unnoticed in the dark shadows of the night. And in this
melancholy quest to be reinstated into some type of social order,
Frank Pierce may ultimately prove to be an even more human character
then Travis Bickle – once again proving that Scorsese’s empathic eye
and keen insight into human behavior have not dimmed over time. Roger
Ebert put it best in his review of “Bringing out the Dead” as he so
succinctly remarked, “To look at ‘Bringing out the Dead’ – to look,
indeed, at almost any Scorsese film – is to be reminded that film
can touch us urgently and deeply. Scorsese is never on autopilot,
never panders, never sells out, always goes for broke; to watch his
film is to see a man risking his talent, not simply exercising it.” Lost the
narrative thread “The world
needs more filmmakers with passionate enthusiasms like Martin
Scorsese. But it doesn't need ‘Gangs of New York.’ Imaginative
and wholly unbelievable, ‘Gangs of New York’ seems too big for any
screen it could possibly be projected onto … at some point you have
to stop building a world and start telling a story, and in ‘Gangs
of New York,’ Scorsese is so distracted and dazzled by his homemade
universe he just can't seem to hunker down. The narrative is gangly
and unfocused even though, naturally, the story is what drew him to
make the picture in the first place …” “The
virtues of ‘Gangs,’ a failed film but not a fiasco, are the virtues
of a pageant, not a drama. Unable to make his personal obsessions
compelling despite his unquestioned filmmaking skill, director Scorsese
and his team have created a heavy-footed golem of a motion picture,
hard to ignore as it throws its weight around but fatally lacking
in anything resembling soul.” “It
is fatally overlong, filled with haphazard history lessons and half-drawn
conclusions, never jelling into a cohesive film or possessing the
energy to move its great bulk forward.” “Gangs
of New York” may achieve greatness with the passage of time, and if
so, its quest will mirror that of “Raging Bull” as an underappreciated
masterpiece that eventually found its way into the hearts of critics
everywhere. But as of now, it’s most reputed for being the biggest
production of Scorsese’s career, where it can take a seat aside “The
Last Temptation of Christ” as arguably being his most troubled production
as well. But in the production of “Gangs,” cinema may have unwittingly
bore witness to yet another step in the evolution of one of its greatest
artists. Filled
to the brim with intricate details, vividly drawn characters and episodes
of cultural moments in American history deserving of their own film,
“Gangs of New York” is most certainly a production that revels in
its bulk, which is more than enough to set it apart from the widely
accepted works of brilliance produced by Martin Scorsese. The
one thing “Taxi Driver,” “Raging Bull” and “Goodfellas” have in common
is the devout adherence to a discipline most likely born from the
devout Catholic in Scorsese. That same discipline has given birth
to some of the most invigorating and precisely executed cinema of
the past quarter-century. What we find in “Gangs of New York” is an
artist giving himself over to his obsessions. Though never one to
shy away from deeply expressive filmmaking, “Gangs of New York” finds
Scorsese in new territory. The doors to the floodgates have broken,
and there’s a reckless reveling in emotion and vision never seen before
in the work of Martin Scorsese. Letting
go of his reservations, Scorsese has not only marked the end of a
lost era in Hollywood filmmaking, he seems to be setting the stage
for the next step in his evolution as an artist. It isn’t that the
films of Scorsese have become geriatric at all. If anything, it appears
that a man whose breathless rants and excitable nature often betrayed
the love and commitment to his art and craft can no longer hold back
in recklessly expressing the same excitement and devotion to the application
of his craft. Adherence to the discipline a story dictates to his
filmmaking has taken a backseat to his passion and obsessions. Because
of this choice to abandon his previous tendencies for fastidiousness,
few films of such scope and size have been as deeply felt as Scorsese’s
“Gangs of New York.” This not only stems from the sensationalistic
story at hand and its larger-than-life characters, but more importantly
from the manner in which the filmmaker has so ardently presented it
to us. With
the aviator on the horizon, and rumors of yet another collaboration
with the talented young thespian Leonardo DiCaprio, it seems Scorsese
shows no signs of slowing down. Whether or not there are marked flaws
in his latest works is beyond questioning, but what Scorsese manages
to show us is the invaluable nature of a passionate filmmaker: an
all-too-rare commodity in today’s film world. Ebert put it best: To
watch a film by Martin Scorsese is to watch a man risking his talent,
not simply exercising it. And those words have never been truer than
at this point in his career. Related link: Martin Scorsese's filmography @ IMDb |