Showing posts with label Martin Scorsese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Martin Scorsese. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Scenes #6: The Departed: The Gospel According To Frank


People never want to give The Departed the credit it deserves. It's too easy to dismiss as Scorsese doing Scorsese, or just a gangster film. Scorsese himself has called it a B film, saying it was his tribute to the likes of Sam Fuller and Robert Aldrich.

At the core of these complaints is the fact that The Departed is just so entertaining (along with The Dark Knight it surely has to be one of the quickest 2 and a half hour+ films ever made). Something this fun to watch can't be good for you. Yet The Departed like any Scorsese is so full of detail that thorough study is rewarded.

Scorsese films are always anchored in time and environment. Scorsese has always been among the most sensual filmmakers to ever pick up a camera. Not in the usual sexual connotation that the term usually implies, but the sheer tactile quality of his films.



The first thing we see is an outbreak of Scorsesian violence. For a director whose name is often synonymous with violent content people neglect to mention how ungainly and clumsy violence always appears in a Scorsese film. It's never a glamorous or graceful thing.


“I don’t want to be a product of My Environment. I want my Environment to be a product of me.”
We hear Frank Costello before we see him. With Nicholson's trademark dulcet purr filling the soundtrack over the images of chaos. Costello's environment is a product of himself. He's not merely a figure of greed or corruption the way Scorsese's other gangsters have been. Instead he is a literal Mephistophelean figure and in this opening scene we see him offering what's literally a counter Gospel. Costello is not a additive figure, he "Hasn't needed the money since he took Archies Milk money in the third grade." There is no joy in material goods for him. He is simply a figure of negation.
We can only imagine that he would look at such images of chaos and violence with immense satisfaction.

The Busing Riots are obscure enough to barely be considered a footnote in American history. Similar to The Draft Riots, another forgotten moment of racially motivated mass violence, that Scorsese used to climax Gangs Of New York. Judging by the American flag waved by some next generation Bill or Vallon, not much has changed between the two ugly outbursts of American anarchy.

“Years ago we had the church, which was just another way of saying we had each other.” More on this later.

It is not so much that Scorsese movies resemble real life as real life has the damnable habit of resembling a Scorsese movie.

"It's a funny thing. It'll put hate in your heart."

In an allusion to Hawk's Scarface, Scorsese places an X in the frame whenever someone is about to die. This is the one time that an X doesn't immediately result in Death, but it's placement at the beginning of the film is significant. Many missed the significance of the film's title, thanks to the relative antiquity of the term. This is Scorsese underlining it, The Departed is a film full of dead people, before the action even starts everyone is doomed.




And to underline things even further the first time we see him he's delivering a eulogy. “Twenty years after an Irishman could get a job we had the presidency. May he rest in peace.” Delivered with a puff of Satanic smoke drifting from his nostrils this has to be one of the juiciest lines Nicholson gets in the film.
Note too the way the smoke juxtaposes with the incense that appears in the church during Colin's visit there.




I love this POV shot. Costello enters into this poor bastard's shop like the force in Evil Dead.


Twenty five bucks once again the paltryness of the money. A great deal more in seventies dollars to be sure. But nothing like the wads his gangsters flash in Goodfellas, Casino, or even Mean Streets.

But Costello's not quite done. From the very beginning of the movie Nicholson plays him like a sexual threat as well as a physical one...

His gaze rests on the owner's young daughter. But note that Colin is caught in the same gaze as well. I've read some critics theorize that Costello is molesting Colin. While I don't think you can quite say it's in the text. There certainly is a lot to support it, including Colin's later sexual disfunction with his fiance and the fact that Costello is drawn as parallel to The Church (Also you know, the scene where Costello waves a giant dildo in his face at a porno theater. Subtle stuff like that.)

Costello starts talking, we get initial repulsion...


Plus this crucial insert of the impotent Father. Underlying sexuality as a punishing force...

And from repulsion to attraction.

Point made Costello turns on a new target for corruption.

Poor kid never had a chance.






There is perhaps no director better than Scorsese at capturing the seductive, spiritual corrupting pull of material wealth. I’ve already written about my issue with those who downplay this element with Goodfellas, but in The Departed the rewards are deliberately meager. The wages of sin are in this case so paltry as to almost be a sick joke (This doesn’t change with age either, at one point an exasperated DiCaprio tells Costello that he runs “a feudal system”), Colin Sullivan sells his soul for a sack or two of groceries, a handful of change and a couple of comic books.

There's a jumpcut here as if Scorsese wants to emphasize the supernatural speed with which Colin's fate is sealed.


Smoke with smoke. The Departed is an odd movie from Scorsese at this time. It follows almost immediately two of Scorsese's most Catholic movies. Gangs Of New York, where there is hardly a scene where Catholicism isn't the main subject and Bringing Out The Dead, which is Scorsese's most overtly religious film since The Last Temptation Of Christ.

The Departed on the other hand, with the exception of Martin Sheen ("What are we following Queenan around for? To Learn about The Good Catholic Life?") is a very cynical movie in terms of religion. Some of this might be explained by William Monahan, who tends to take a much darker view of religion then Scorsese. More of it can be explained by the film's Boston setting which was the flash point for the Priest scandals in America.

The Departed is a film about deep wounds and the deepest of all come from those we trust.


We're not even outside of the church when Costello, interrupts The Priest and begins his litany. "The Church wants you in your place. Stand, Kneel, Sit." Like Henry Hill what seduces Colin is the power of self determination in a world of working class humps. The terrible irony is that Colin is perhaps the Scorsese character with the least control over his fate.

"Nom Serviam" cements Costello's Satanic identification. Colin rightly identifies the passage as one of Joyce's. But forgets to add that it is taken from Joyce's Potrait Of An Artist As A Young Man. In which, Father Arnall tells Dedalus, that "Nom Serviam" is the personal motto of Satan.


Oh and to strengthen the allusion one more time here's a picture of Costello with his face framed with fire.



Scorsese has always had a skill with violence but rarely has he been so meticulous in its minutia. Note that muzzle flash hits and then the squib. Both split second images painstakingly composed.

"When you're facing a loaded gun. What's the difference?" Thus endeth the sermon. Draft Riots, or busing riots, Guinea's or Micks, Church or Streets, Cops or Criminals, Nicholson nihlistically denies the distinctions of all. Nothing can be quantified but self gratification, and if you can use those illusions to distract the suckers so much the better.


Amen.

...

Who’s That Knocking At My Door
Boxcar Bertha
Mean Streets
Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore
Taxi Driver
New York New York
The Last Waltz
Raging Bull
The King Of Comedy
After Hours
The Color Of Money
The Last Temptation Of Christ
New York Stories
Goodfellas
Cape Fear
The Age Of Innocence
A Personal Journey Through American Movies With Martin Scorsese
Casino
Kundun
My Voyage To Italy
Bringing Out The Dead
Gangs Of New York
The Blues: Feels Like Going Home
The Aviator
No Direction Home
The Departed
Shine A Light
Shutter Island
Boardwalk Empire
A Letter To Elia
Public Speaking (Pending DVD Release)
Living In The Material World (Pending DVD Release)

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Scenes #4: Gangs Of New York

I've written about Gangs Of New York dozens of times. And never once to my satisfaction.

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.

Our first look at Neeson. Significantly we never see him in full until after he has dawned the costume of “Priest”. Like Amsterdam he exists in our minds as a larger then life figure, we have no memory of him as a man. Only as a Legend.

“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.









Note the mural of the Madonna and Child in the Celtic style on the back wall. The film blends the iconography of paganism and Christianity over and over again. To startling effect.

In speaking of the blend note too our first look at The Dead Rabbits. As with the Saint Michael Parable the link between Social Identity and thus social action and Religion is made explicit.




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.

Once again the wicker cross, the blending of Ireland’s two religious traditions. The wild haired Priest with the blood of Christ. It’s a darker wilder religion that is practiced by the characters of Gangs Of New York.


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 treasure cinema’s ability to bring me to different worlds. And no film I know does that better then Gangs Of New York. Gangs Of New York has such a vividness to its sense place that it’s damn near hallucinogenic. That first journey through The Warren a staggering montage of sound and image never fails to leave me literally breathless.

Hardly have I ever seen a place so alive.







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.)




"A hand full of bitches and a few crusty rag tags?"

"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...

POSTSCRIPT: Due to some extremely annoying technical difficulties things may be a little slow here for the next couple days on TTDS.

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.

So please if posting is spotty up to Christmas (Though I'm definitely will at least make time to write about The Fighter and Black Swan as well as in The Spielberg Blogothan cohosted by Icebox Movies and Medfly Quarantine) and I'm a bit slower to responding to comments then usual, I'll hope you'll forgive me.