It is after all my favorite film. Which always tends to surprise people. As if I've told them that my favorite book was a Tom Clancy novel, or my favorite Album something by Candlebox. A kind of nervous "Er... you know there are other things out there." Vibe.
Of course writing about something ineffable as what makes your favorite movie your favorite is on the dogs chasing cars end of the futility scale. But that doesn't stop one from wanting to give it a go.
So I've been itching to try it out with Scenes. And as I'm hosting a screening of it tomorrow, it seemed the perfect time to take a closer look at the film.
The film begins in darkness with the sound of the blade scraping against the skin. We cut to the closed eyes of Neeson then tilt down to watch him hold the blade against his own throat. Only for a moment but unmistakably.
Look at the color of Neeson's clothing. Red White and Blue. Look at the shine of the metal of the razor juxtaposed with the shine of metal on the cross. Linking the violence and religion that will be one of the film's main themes. So much is communicated and it's not even over yet-
"No Son. Never. The Blood stays on the blade. One day you'll Understand."
Violence, duty, and heritage passed down from one generation to the next. But muddled even in the passing. “ One day you’ll understand.” But Amsterdam’s understanding will only be partial. He will not understand in full because He is not his father.
Stepping outside the scene for a moment a crucial line that many miss in the film is when Amsterdam mentions that he has lost his regional accent in the orphanage. It could be taken as a line covering up DiCaprio’s, um dubious skills at accents (“Duhly Ahpointed Fehduhal Mahshaals) but it serves a larger purpose as well. Though he labels himself Irish, and is thus labeled by his enemies, to those in the home country he wouldn’t pass. Whether or not he likes it, Amsterdam is an American.

“Some of it I half remember. The rest I took from dreams.”
One of my favorite lines in film. Or any film. Though DiCaprio's voice over will occasionally become intrusive, the dreamy melancholy way that line is spoken is perfect.


“Now Son who is that?”
“Saint Michael”
“WHO IS IT?”
“SAINT MICHAEL!”
“And what did he do?”
“He Cast Satan Out Of Paradise”
“Good Boy”
My distinguished colleague Peter Lenihan in his excellent (and now sadly absent from the blogosphere) essay on the film, stated that it is in Gangs that Scorsese admitted that he was more interested in Catholic Iconography then Catholic Theology. With all due respect to Peter this always seemed to me to be off the mark. And more then a little bit. There is hardly a film in Scorsese’s Ouevre (Last Temptation Of Christ being the rather obvious exception) that is powered more by Religion in general and Catholic Ideology in particular. It is at the heart of virtually every character. The thing that drives them, that frames their struggle in the mythic light they need in order to continue it.
Of course the irony of the film is that both Priest and Bill consider themselves the inheritor of the story. Both see themselves as Saint Michael and the other as Satan. Just as everyone who has ever fought to define what America means cannot help but see themselves completely in the right. Though given Bill resides in a place called Satan’s Circus, it’s not too tough to see where the film’s loyalties lie.

I love Neeson's face in the above picture.
Gangs has a reputation for ultra violence that is at best half earned. It’s bloody no doubt. But rarely shows you as much as you think it does (More on this later). It’s just that the potential for violence is so clearly etched in the bedrock of every scene that at times it feels down right oppressive.
You can't have shots of weapons like that, and men like those and not remember that there is an excellent chance that the latter may begin to use the former.
It's little more then a visual gag, but I've always loved the bizarre little tribute to Apocalypse Now that Scorsese throws in, for as far as I can tell, just for the hell of it. The Horror. The Horror.
And Jeez will you look at that shot. I mean will you just look at the depth and beauty of it?
"May The Lord put the steel of the Holy Spirit in your spine. And The Love Of The Blessed Virgin in your heart." Amen. I have to admit, this prayer has gone through my mind more then once in my life, thanks to the film. Call it strange. It is. But I can't help but love when a movie infiltrates your life.
"Not just a gang. An Army."

Putting a literal forge in The Warren is a nice metaphor.
I'm not one to usually take a Marxist approach to cinema. But you'd have to try to miss the metaphor in this case. As the disenfranchised overflow through the literal underground of society and onto its surface.

The Rabbits even look smaller. No longer shot from low angles, their heads brushing the ceilings. This is not their terroritory.
It's theirs.
Oh and I'm sorry I can no longer hear you over the sound of one of the greatest entrances in cinematic history (Great entrances being something that Gangs has a bumper crop of.)

"Bene."
Now here comes the question of violence. If you break down the Gang Battle, you'll notice something odd. You'll hardly ever see the violence. Watch.

Bill Approaches...

Pulls Back for the swing...
Which connects somewhere below frame.

Again we don't see the entry wound...

Just the reaction...

Again...


And Again...

And Again...

Never the impact...


Only the results...
And those results are bloody...
Trust me no one's saying otherwise. But when you compare this to just how explicit Scorsese can get. It's really just a graceful and stunningly consistent strategy.

Daniel Day Lewis is just implacable though.
Though I doubt anyone will argue that Priest Vallon is one hard mother fucker.

But man no one can convey complete apoplectic fury the way Lewis can.

Even when there are tears at the death of Vallon they're one's of blood.
"Oh my son. Don't ever look away."
Vallon's last command rings through the film. And if I have to pinpoint why the film strikes such a deep cord it is that line. Watching this film is an act of not looking away. Both in the history of my country and the history of my Irish heritage.
The responsibility of heritage is about not forgetting what was done to bring us to where we are. And who paid the price for it.

"You've got a murderous rage in you and I like it."
Scorsese himself freezes this frame for a moment. Amsterdam who has been shown as nothing but sweet and timid, picks up the fight literally the second his father dies. So one generation passes down it's burdens to the next.


"You can do this all with computers now." George Lucas told Scorsese when he visited the sets of
Gangs Of New York. Continuing his contest to be the most hateful filmmaker in the world...
But Lucas was sadly right. It can, and is only done with computers now. Gangs was the last one.
It's not just The Priest being buried here. It's the tradition of the great American tactile epic. The last time all the sets need be built. All the costumes made. All the people there.
Why bother, to make something when you can sit a few geeks in front of a computer and shit out Pandora.
But say what you will. It cannot be denied that Scorsese gave them both one hell of a funeral...
The problem is easily fixable (though still fucking annoying and requires cash not readily available) so it shouldn't take me more then a few days to get through it.