Posted By: MistaMista Tom Hagen
Mista Mista's Review - Mean Streets - 08/17/06 05:01 PM
Mean Streets 
Directed by Martin Scorsese
1973
Perhaps the closest Scorsese would ever come to an autobiography, Mean Streets is a charmingly familiar portrait of Charlie, a young, up and coming mafia man in New York trying to deal with his friends, his mentors, and his girlfriend. Scorsese exhibits early tendencies towards rapid editing and drastic variations between long shots and close ups, techniques that would come to define him and his work as unique from nearly all others working then or since. Scenes like our first introduction to Teresa, Charlie's girlfriend, display Scorsese doing what he does best; examining his character's thought processes, utilizing his sharp sense of ironic humor, and adding voice over narration. This was my 2nd viewing of what many consider to be the first film that was truly Marty's. I had initially seen it a couple years back when I was not as familiar with his other work, and there were some interesting similarities that I noticed more clearly this time around.
Watching this movie, you really get the sense that Scorsese is comfortable in this territory, so familiar with it, that he doesn't need to showcase it or explain it. It serves as a background element to his characters, which he more thoroughly explores and fleshes out here, as opposed to his later organized crime films. This sense of comfort easily transcends to the viewers, and we come to feel as if we've known these characters for a lifetime. Our central focus, Charlie, is our most complex character, and his friends serve to reflect certain aspects of his personality. They showcase his insecurities at times, and his ego at others. Charlie experiences internal struggles, conflicted between his love for tradition and security, the respect that comes with following the old world style and customs of his uncle Giovanni and his other mentors (like Michael), but yet he also enjoys reverting to his more childish, new-age ways as well; drinking with his friends, fighting and being reckless (like Johnny Boy).
Charlie acts almost as an outsider to the events of his life, occasionally retreating into his subconscious to reflect on everything that's going on around him. In this way, Charlie is noticeably similar to Henry in Goodfellas, except that while Henry's afflictions are of the material and superficial sort, Charlie finds himself battling more with moral and ethical dilemmas and temptations. Despite the differences between Charlie’s friends, every one of them shows signs of self-doubt and insecurity. Whether it’s Johnny Boy constantly needing to defend his pride through fighting, or Michael scrambling to avoid looking like a fool in front of the ever-present wiseguys, or Charlie refusing to become emotionally attached to Teresa, despite the amount of affection she shows him. It’s interesting to note how the three movie clips shown (from The Searchers, The Big Heat, and The Tomb of Ligeria) so directly reflect the actions and emotions of the characters in the real film.
Despite how much attention Scorsese gives to his characters, they only serve as part of the film as a whole. Two other key elements, the music and the setting, work to complete the picture. The addition of music here, while not as sophisticated as Goodfellas or Casino, works beautifully throughout the whole piece. It’s amazing how well Scorsese uses music to compliment or contradict the different scenes. While I’m not sure where Scorsese picked up this technique, it’s clearly influenced the generations of filmmakers that followed. One noticeable difference here is that more often than not, the music has a clear source, whether it be a car stereo or the jukebox in Tony’s bar. In his later work, Scorsese often adds music without indicating a source, which serves to make it more atmospheric or nostalgic in some respects, and ultimately seems to work better.
As for the settings, our main focus point, Tony’s bar, provides a fitting showcase for all the action. Constantly bathed in an all-consuming crimson light that’s highly reminiscent of the Bamboo Lounge in Goodfellas, Tony’s is the place where our characters are established and proceed to develop. It also provides for some of the best cinematic moments in all of Scorsese’s filmography; the harness-cam shot of Charlie when he’s drunk, the extended, heavily accented conversation between Charlie and Johnny Boy when we first meet him, and several slow motion scenes set to music that just work so well. It must also be noted that as for the larger picture, the city of New York itself, Scorsese pays a surprisingly small amount of attention to it, perhaps because it is mostly portrayed in a positive light. Think of Taxi Driver, where the city plays an important role, but in a negative context. The variation between Scorsese’ s depiction serves to reflect the mindsets of his characters; Charlie, traditional and content, and Travis, depressed and angry.
Lastly, you can’t watch Mean Streets without mentioning Robert DeNiro. In a markedly different performance than nearly any other character he has played before or since, DeNiro steals the show as the reckless, wild Johnny Boy Civello. It’s amazing to watch him here and think that less than a year later he’d be channeling the stoic, reserved Vito Corleone in The Godfather Pt II. I loved how in the one scene where Johnny Boy sneaks across the apartment building rooftops, he crouches and looks down into the street at one moment, much like Vito in GFII, and then quickly stands up and raises his hands triumphantly in the air, eerily similar to his portrayal of Jake LaMotta seven years later. Predicting the future? Perhaps.
Overall, this film that previously had served only as an early indication of Scorsese’s future talent in my mind, now stands on its own. We can already see glimpses of his smooth rapid camera moves, his genius use of music, his love of New York, and his portrayal of some of his own personal demons. Mean Streets ends in a fitting final scene in which Scorsese perhaps portrays some of his own feelings about his life and his maturation. We see Charlie, but hear only opera music and an audience clapping, and then finally, several people slamming their windows to drown out the commotion in the street below. Scorsese is saying something about his life here, about how he may feel isolated, almost as if his life, his insecurities and his faults, are on display, like a show for all to see, much like Charlie, and how in the end, despite all of his efforts, no one will help him. No one is listening.
Directed by Martin Scorsese
1973
Perhaps the closest Scorsese would ever come to an autobiography, Mean Streets is a charmingly familiar portrait of Charlie, a young, up and coming mafia man in New York trying to deal with his friends, his mentors, and his girlfriend. Scorsese exhibits early tendencies towards rapid editing and drastic variations between long shots and close ups, techniques that would come to define him and his work as unique from nearly all others working then or since. Scenes like our first introduction to Teresa, Charlie's girlfriend, display Scorsese doing what he does best; examining his character's thought processes, utilizing his sharp sense of ironic humor, and adding voice over narration. This was my 2nd viewing of what many consider to be the first film that was truly Marty's. I had initially seen it a couple years back when I was not as familiar with his other work, and there were some interesting similarities that I noticed more clearly this time around.
Watching this movie, you really get the sense that Scorsese is comfortable in this territory, so familiar with it, that he doesn't need to showcase it or explain it. It serves as a background element to his characters, which he more thoroughly explores and fleshes out here, as opposed to his later organized crime films. This sense of comfort easily transcends to the viewers, and we come to feel as if we've known these characters for a lifetime. Our central focus, Charlie, is our most complex character, and his friends serve to reflect certain aspects of his personality. They showcase his insecurities at times, and his ego at others. Charlie experiences internal struggles, conflicted between his love for tradition and security, the respect that comes with following the old world style and customs of his uncle Giovanni and his other mentors (like Michael), but yet he also enjoys reverting to his more childish, new-age ways as well; drinking with his friends, fighting and being reckless (like Johnny Boy).
Charlie acts almost as an outsider to the events of his life, occasionally retreating into his subconscious to reflect on everything that's going on around him. In this way, Charlie is noticeably similar to Henry in Goodfellas, except that while Henry's afflictions are of the material and superficial sort, Charlie finds himself battling more with moral and ethical dilemmas and temptations. Despite the differences between Charlie’s friends, every one of them shows signs of self-doubt and insecurity. Whether it’s Johnny Boy constantly needing to defend his pride through fighting, or Michael scrambling to avoid looking like a fool in front of the ever-present wiseguys, or Charlie refusing to become emotionally attached to Teresa, despite the amount of affection she shows him. It’s interesting to note how the three movie clips shown (from The Searchers, The Big Heat, and The Tomb of Ligeria) so directly reflect the actions and emotions of the characters in the real film.
Despite how much attention Scorsese gives to his characters, they only serve as part of the film as a whole. Two other key elements, the music and the setting, work to complete the picture. The addition of music here, while not as sophisticated as Goodfellas or Casino, works beautifully throughout the whole piece. It’s amazing how well Scorsese uses music to compliment or contradict the different scenes. While I’m not sure where Scorsese picked up this technique, it’s clearly influenced the generations of filmmakers that followed. One noticeable difference here is that more often than not, the music has a clear source, whether it be a car stereo or the jukebox in Tony’s bar. In his later work, Scorsese often adds music without indicating a source, which serves to make it more atmospheric or nostalgic in some respects, and ultimately seems to work better.
As for the settings, our main focus point, Tony’s bar, provides a fitting showcase for all the action. Constantly bathed in an all-consuming crimson light that’s highly reminiscent of the Bamboo Lounge in Goodfellas, Tony’s is the place where our characters are established and proceed to develop. It also provides for some of the best cinematic moments in all of Scorsese’s filmography; the harness-cam shot of Charlie when he’s drunk, the extended, heavily accented conversation between Charlie and Johnny Boy when we first meet him, and several slow motion scenes set to music that just work so well. It must also be noted that as for the larger picture, the city of New York itself, Scorsese pays a surprisingly small amount of attention to it, perhaps because it is mostly portrayed in a positive light. Think of Taxi Driver, where the city plays an important role, but in a negative context. The variation between Scorsese’ s depiction serves to reflect the mindsets of his characters; Charlie, traditional and content, and Travis, depressed and angry.
Lastly, you can’t watch Mean Streets without mentioning Robert DeNiro. In a markedly different performance than nearly any other character he has played before or since, DeNiro steals the show as the reckless, wild Johnny Boy Civello. It’s amazing to watch him here and think that less than a year later he’d be channeling the stoic, reserved Vito Corleone in The Godfather Pt II. I loved how in the one scene where Johnny Boy sneaks across the apartment building rooftops, he crouches and looks down into the street at one moment, much like Vito in GFII, and then quickly stands up and raises his hands triumphantly in the air, eerily similar to his portrayal of Jake LaMotta seven years later. Predicting the future? Perhaps.
Overall, this film that previously had served only as an early indication of Scorsese’s future talent in my mind, now stands on its own. We can already see glimpses of his smooth rapid camera moves, his genius use of music, his love of New York, and his portrayal of some of his own personal demons. Mean Streets ends in a fitting final scene in which Scorsese perhaps portrays some of his own feelings about his life and his maturation. We see Charlie, but hear only opera music and an audience clapping, and then finally, several people slamming their windows to drown out the commotion in the street below. Scorsese is saying something about his life here, about how he may feel isolated, almost as if his life, his insecurities and his faults, are on display, like a show for all to see, much like Charlie, and how in the end, despite all of his efforts, no one will help him. No one is listening.
