"Start spreading the news... I am leaving today..."
Well, the best thing about Martin Scorsese's "New York, New York", directed in 1977, is Frank Sinatra's song of the same name that became the trope identifier of Manhattan, in the same way than a certain iconic Rhapsody. But apart from the musical numbers and the flamboyant rendering of the mood and texture of the 40s big-band era, there's nothing much to say about it. It's a solid and laudable attempt from Marty to recreate a New York City that diverges from the gritty more Goya-like portrait in "Taxi Driver", but there's a reason why the film hasn't gotten the same reception than its glorious predecessor, it's a story with potential but not that good a story to begin with.
Here's why, Scorsese is a director of atmospheres and settings, the former are generally the causes of the protagonists' states of mind (whether choleric or melancholic) and the latter the operating theaters of their actions. Take "Taxi Driver" again, it's not much New York City that is highlighted but its nightmarish perception from Travis Bickle without which his climactic actions wouldn't make sense. Ultimately, it's all about characters, visions and action. As said before, "New York, New York" intends to be a tribute to the roaring second half of the forties, with the explosion of jazz music and solo artists, combined with a passionate love story, so if anything the film should be boisterous and flamboyant with a zest of sorrow, but if the ingredients are all there, the recipe doesn't work.
The major problem of the film has been pinpointed before, it's like the two characters were written by different persons. De Niro is Jimmy Dugan, the hot-headed sax-tenor player and as Pauline Kael says, there's something reminding of Cassavetes' movies in De Niro's approach. He's a man who always at the verge of exploding, a paradoxical man who loves to improvise but in his own calculated way, a man whose doesn't take no as an answer no matter how hard to get Francine Evans is (or plays. That they end up together is quite the stunt the film makes hard to believe. And as Francine, Minnelli plays it sweet and tender like a woman who means well but never seems to satisfy her man, even when she gives a pep talk to the band, all she gets is a nasty tap in the bottoms.
Watching Minnelli and De Niro together, I was reminded of Liza's mother Judy Garland in her defining role "A Star is Born" while De Niro reminded me of Bosley Crowther's obnoxious and hair-trigger tempered husband in "Born Yesterday" ,there are so many scenes of conflicts, arguments and shouting, punctuated by a few intimate moments that the film left me with two alternate opinions, both negatives. Either the film insists too much on the fact that this relationships is doomed from the start and they're too talented to stay together and have converging careers or maybe Scorsese intended to paint a true romance but we've never given the single clue about whatever Francine found in Jimmy. And that's because the expositional party during the Victory Day celebration sets very well the characters and gives Minnelli an aura she's never seen with ever after.
De Niro carries the movie with a bravura performance that outshines everyone else, but his Jimmy is so unpleasant in the long run that we never connect with him and neither do we with Francine whose portrayal by Minnelli seems marked by that uncertainty of feeling. The irony is that De Niro acts better but as a character it's impossible to root for, because we never see whatever he sees to understand his actions. Even in "Raging Bull", we were given some perspective on La Motta's chronic jealousy. There are too many things to take for granted in "New York, New York" and the only that work are the musical numbers and the swinging homage to Hollywood Golden Age.
But let's not kid ourselves, as soon as the first notes are hummed or played by De Niro's saw, we know the film is headed toward a big finale with "New York, New York", we're overdue a "Life is Cabaret"-like ending but the film isn't "Cabaret" and Scorsese isn't Bob Fosse, which is all right, he's still one of the best but Scorsese is a man of moods and atmospheres and his nostalgic view of New York City is rendered beautifully but there's too much a gap between Scorsese's artistic ambitions and the requirements of a genre that's not his strongest suit in the first place. The gap is too big between the recreation of "New York" and its deliberate factice look and a raw energetic performance such as De Niro's.
I talked of Bob Fosse, his "Cabaret" conveyed the impending doom and the last outbursts of fun before darkness would envelop German life, it had a meaning and the relationships felt genuine. "New York, New York" starts right after that era, the celebration gives us appreciations of the two characters but nothing that justifies a relationship, let alone a marriage, and after the pregnancy, I kind of lost it and waited for the big finale with "New York, New York". The film had the look, the music but not the meaning and for Scorsese, it's quite a sin.
Well, the best thing about Martin Scorsese's "New York, New York", directed in 1977, is Frank Sinatra's song of the same name that became the trope identifier of Manhattan, in the same way than a certain iconic Rhapsody. But apart from the musical numbers and the flamboyant rendering of the mood and texture of the 40s big-band era, there's nothing much to say about it. It's a solid and laudable attempt from Marty to recreate a New York City that diverges from the gritty more Goya-like portrait in "Taxi Driver", but there's a reason why the film hasn't gotten the same reception than its glorious predecessor, it's a story with potential but not that good a story to begin with.
Here's why, Scorsese is a director of atmospheres and settings, the former are generally the causes of the protagonists' states of mind (whether choleric or melancholic) and the latter the operating theaters of their actions. Take "Taxi Driver" again, it's not much New York City that is highlighted but its nightmarish perception from Travis Bickle without which his climactic actions wouldn't make sense. Ultimately, it's all about characters, visions and action. As said before, "New York, New York" intends to be a tribute to the roaring second half of the forties, with the explosion of jazz music and solo artists, combined with a passionate love story, so if anything the film should be boisterous and flamboyant with a zest of sorrow, but if the ingredients are all there, the recipe doesn't work.
The major problem of the film has been pinpointed before, it's like the two characters were written by different persons. De Niro is Jimmy Dugan, the hot-headed sax-tenor player and as Pauline Kael says, there's something reminding of Cassavetes' movies in De Niro's approach. He's a man who always at the verge of exploding, a paradoxical man who loves to improvise but in his own calculated way, a man whose doesn't take no as an answer no matter how hard to get Francine Evans is (or plays. That they end up together is quite the stunt the film makes hard to believe. And as Francine, Minnelli plays it sweet and tender like a woman who means well but never seems to satisfy her man, even when she gives a pep talk to the band, all she gets is a nasty tap in the bottoms.
Watching Minnelli and De Niro together, I was reminded of Liza's mother Judy Garland in her defining role "A Star is Born" while De Niro reminded me of Bosley Crowther's obnoxious and hair-trigger tempered husband in "Born Yesterday" ,there are so many scenes of conflicts, arguments and shouting, punctuated by a few intimate moments that the film left me with two alternate opinions, both negatives. Either the film insists too much on the fact that this relationships is doomed from the start and they're too talented to stay together and have converging careers or maybe Scorsese intended to paint a true romance but we've never given the single clue about whatever Francine found in Jimmy. And that's because the expositional party during the Victory Day celebration sets very well the characters and gives Minnelli an aura she's never seen with ever after.
De Niro carries the movie with a bravura performance that outshines everyone else, but his Jimmy is so unpleasant in the long run that we never connect with him and neither do we with Francine whose portrayal by Minnelli seems marked by that uncertainty of feeling. The irony is that De Niro acts better but as a character it's impossible to root for, because we never see whatever he sees to understand his actions. Even in "Raging Bull", we were given some perspective on La Motta's chronic jealousy. There are too many things to take for granted in "New York, New York" and the only that work are the musical numbers and the swinging homage to Hollywood Golden Age.
But let's not kid ourselves, as soon as the first notes are hummed or played by De Niro's saw, we know the film is headed toward a big finale with "New York, New York", we're overdue a "Life is Cabaret"-like ending but the film isn't "Cabaret" and Scorsese isn't Bob Fosse, which is all right, he's still one of the best but Scorsese is a man of moods and atmospheres and his nostalgic view of New York City is rendered beautifully but there's too much a gap between Scorsese's artistic ambitions and the requirements of a genre that's not his strongest suit in the first place. The gap is too big between the recreation of "New York" and its deliberate factice look and a raw energetic performance such as De Niro's.
I talked of Bob Fosse, his "Cabaret" conveyed the impending doom and the last outbursts of fun before darkness would envelop German life, it had a meaning and the relationships felt genuine. "New York, New York" starts right after that era, the celebration gives us appreciations of the two characters but nothing that justifies a relationship, let alone a marriage, and after the pregnancy, I kind of lost it and waited for the big finale with "New York, New York". The film had the look, the music but not the meaning and for Scorsese, it's quite a sin.