MEAN STREETS (1973)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
Martin Scorsese made a big splash in 1973 with his evocative, insanely funny and brutal "Mean Streets." He made a splash with critics, but not with audiences who stayed away. I suppose they felt that the mob scene was "The Godfather" and nobody was going to tell them different. Scorsese had always felt that "The Godfather" was not authentic and that it did not tell the ugly truths regarding the mob. After being told by director John Cassevettes to do something more personal than "Boxcar Bertha," Scorsese returned to his Little Italy roots and came up with an influential masterpiece.
"Mean Streets" stars Harvey Keitel as Charlie, a hood who works directly for the big boss in the neighborhood (Cesare Danova). Charlie mainly runs around town making sure the boss's clients are paying their protection money on time. One of these clients is a restaurant owner who wants out since his business is failing. Then there is Johnny Boy (Robert De Niro), a hapless fool who blows up mailboxes and owes everyone in town money. There are people that want to break his legs, but Charlie vouches for him. The reason may be that Charlie is seeing Johnny's cousin (Amy Robinson), who wants out of the big city and wants Charlie to follow her. Of course, Charlie just can't pack up and leave. And what will he do about Johnny Boy who has a major temper and can't pay any of his bills?
"Mean Streets" was one of the first truly personal films to evoke a sense of time and place with a small budget and with Hollywood distribution. Yes, Cassevetes and others have their low-budget roots but Scorsese came knocking to Hollywood, and arrived there with style. Never mind the box-office numbers, Scorsese got noticed. He was even optioned to direct "Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore," a high-profile Hollywood effort with Ellen Burstyn. And the gritty New York of small-time hoods, teenage kids seeking firecrackers, drunk homosexuals cracking wise, Italian food festivals, a pretend duel with garbage can lids and so on was accomplished largely by filming in California! Scorsese was showing the early stages of a dynamic style of storytelling, complete with hand-held camera movements, tracking shots, point-of-view shots, and so much more to show the life and energy of those streets. There is one stunning scene (since aped by many, including Spike Lee and Darren Aronofsky) where Charlie walks around drunk in the bar, from one room to the next, getting showered with champagne. We follow him restlessly as he finally falls flat on his face. What's amazing about this scene is that the camera was strapped to Keitel's waist so that it creates a synergetic movement that is quite dazzling and exhausting to watch.
There is nothing better in the cinema of Scorsese than to see Keitel and De Niro prancing around in the streets of New York. Every scene of theirs bursts with vitality and an anything-goes air of improvisation. But it is more than that - they are tense, charismatic personalities that clash in one horrific scene involving Johnny's cousin with an epileptic fit. Other scenes in a graveyard, rooftops, street level arguments outside tenements and so forth bring an intensity that is a real thrill to watch. They argue, bicker, slap each other, console each other. It is like watching a married couple, only they are two Italian American hoods! More than that, it is like watching a documentary, a slice-of-life of America's seamier side. We see a world where anything can happen, and where danger is right around the corner. A shooting in a bar seems to come out of nowhere. Johnny Boy shoots at the air on rooftops. A Vietnam Vet loses his cool and flips out during a party. And, just when Charlie has done everything to protect Johnny Boy, a fatalistic, grim denouement faces them and strikes abruptly. And all this is visually composed with frequent Catholic imagery (lots of shots of crucifixes and churches). The film plays like a Catholic morality play where one must adhere to the codes of a family, even if that family is the mob. There is no irony, only plenty of guilt over sex, violence and religion. Yep, this is a Scorsese film after all.
"Mean Streets" doesn't feel like a conventional, smoothly executed, polished work from a seasoned director. For one, this film is the antithesis to "The Godfather." "Mean Streets" is full of Rolling Stones tunes and old 50's sentimental songs ("Be My Baby" has more resonance in this film than in "Dirty Dancing.") It is crude, rough and jumpy, as if Godard decided to make a New Wave rendition of "Godfather" with a frenetic, juiced-up energy. The movie plays like a roller-coaster ride of thrills and jazzy sequences so astounding, you'll marvel at Scorsese's chutzpah in failing to adhere to gangster film conventions and traditional seamless editing techniques. There is also no one to root for and no real plot. "Mean Streets" merely unfolds before our eyes, and was the obvious precursor to Scorsese's masterful "GoodFellas." It feels and tastes like life, and I can't exactly call that faint praise.
