Encore’s Birthday Marathon: Day 8

More pre-birthday musings...

            

Whenever I’m asked which city I’d most like to inhabit I always say Paris. It’s just because I have a sort of obsessive attraction to everything French, even though my knowledge of the language remains sparse after years of school French (I’d probably be a fish out of water, a la Dave Sedaris in “Me Talk Pretty One Day”. As far as being a lover of all things artistic (heh) goes, though, I’d probably choose New York in a heartbeat. Jose was only recently fêting it (well, the Met actually), and with good reason.

 

As far as cinema goes Woody Allen seems to have the monopoly on the city. It probably makes sense because he exudes that sense of zany neuroses that people tend to think of the city with. Still, it’s not Woody who I turn to when I hear the name of the city – I turn to Liza, with Z, first. It’s not just because I’m a lover of Scorsese, I really do think that New York, New York is one of the best films of the seventies (and one of the best films to not receive an Oscar nomination). It has its moments of less than perfect scenes, but it’s an ultimately rewarding experience. For me, its themes effectively evoke that gritty realness tied with the sort of magical sheen that best encapsulates the city – larger than life, really. Plus, the film’s most iconic scene – as far as I’m concerned – is about a budding Broadway showgirl. And what else is as indicative of New York as The Great White Way 

                                                           

It’s not just cinema, though. New York is as much a location as it is a character in two of the greatest comedies of the nineties (and all time, probably) Friends and Sex and the City. Sex and the City in particular depends on that attractive but sometimes exasperating hubbub of the city (which is probably why the excursions away from it tend to fall flat). In truth, I can’t say I’d be interested in seeing New York for the tourists’ attractions. It’s like that Friends episode where Joey didn’t even know that the Met was a museum and not the singular of the Mets – the baseball team. If I do end up in New York I’d probably divide my time between the cinema and the theatre, or maybe I’d make time to do a Jane Fonda and go barefoot in the park.

                 

I don’t know. It’s a sort of perfect tourist’s paradise. I’m not a tourist at heart, but I still want to go.

 

Any New Yorkers reading?

I always feel badly that Michael York didn't get to do any singing in Cabaret, maybe he may have been remembered more...it's his birthday, today....and singing or not I love him in Cabaret.

March Bloodstones: Francine Evans in New York/New York

This is another entry in my month-long retrospective on female centred cinematic bravery.

            

I hadn’t initially planned on taking a look at Liza Minnelli’s work under Scorsese, but noticing that her birthday was today I started thinking of her career. She’s both over appreciated and underappreciated. Most everyone recalls her brilliant 1972 Sally Bowles, but because of the raw deal that New York/New York often gets in history it’s not as oft-remembered. I remember I reviewed it on a whim for a LAMB’s Director’s Chair on the great Scorsese and it still doesn’t crack my top 5 Scorsese’s – although that doesn’t say much, I love most of his work.

New York/New York is a simple musical tale of love lost and then found – in New York, no doubt and it endures as one of Scorsese’s biggest “flops”. This time around I’m less interested in defending its merit, yet again. I’m more interested in Francine’s plight. New York/New York has one of those openings that exudes iconicity (even if it’s probably never endured as such) and a prolonged conversation at a club between Francine and Jimmy (DeNiro) is as much preparation for their characters as you need. This is five years after Minnelli’s tour-de-force in Cabaret and the performance is permeated with a high level of maturity that’s palpable. At the sake of being repetitious, I must declare that the way in which Liza suggests her mother here is poignant – haunting even, but Scorsese steps back just enough to prevent the exercise from being exploitative.

It’s terribly easy to read any bloodstone tendencies in Francine as evident in her struggle with abuse from Jimmy. She is an abused woman, but what separates Jimmy from the slew of spousal abuse dramas on a certain network is its focus on character not aspect, Francine is not just an abused woman and Jimmy is not just an abuser. But, even though screenwriter Rauch tries to balance the story it’s difficult for DeNiro to compete with Liza when she’s at her near best. Even if I’ll flip-flop as to whether this is her best work I remain convinced that it’s the role that encapsulates her talents best. For all her beauty and talent, there’s such a subtle awkwardness to Liza that makes her performances all the more golden. I love that first scene where Jimmy’s auditioning terribly and Francine decides to start singing. That naiveté of her there, oddly juxtaposed with her talent is such a great illustration of her; and oh, how the camera – Scorsese that is – loves her.

As broken relationships tend to go, Liza gets her token scene of bravery when the two part ways – the first time around. For all its intensity New York/New York is consistently funny (sort of the opposite side to Annie Hall from the year; a funny look at a doomed relationship that is humorous with moments of lucid dramatic awareness), and watching a pregnant Francine have the argument of all arguments with her husband in a cramped car on a busy New York street is just one of the thing that ensures that Scorsesian nature of this piece – and, incidentally, ensures that Liza gets all the chances to be brilliant. It’s only two scenes later that the narrative splits and Francine breaks out on her own, personally and figurative. We get a flash-forward that’s so subtly done (evocative of the flash-forwards in The Aviator, now that I think of it) that’s centred on her performance of “But the World Goes Round” – one of her richest performances, of the film and otherwise.

This is a musical, and music is Liza’s niche and of course she nails those musical numbers. It’s Ebb and Kander, so I feel no guilt in saying that this sits in the top 3 numbers that merges singing and acting – something that, so often, goes out of the window in musicals. It’s the second half where she gets all those iconic numbers though – like that legendary extended number “Happy Days” (a brilliant mini-movie in itself) and, of course, “New York/New York”. Her musical success is paralleled against Jimmy's and that bittersweet end where she “leaves” him for the second time never fails to pierce, because as dysfunctional a relationship it is – it’s still theirs. Yet, even though that ending should more weight for DeNiro, who is so piercing in that final scene. That look on Francine’s face when we realise the decision she’s going to make is beautiful. Oh Liza, so often praised...and yet, so often not...

                 

Happy birthday, Liza.

             

previously: Deanie Loomis in Splendor in the Grass; Helen and Margaret Schlegel in Howards End

Scorsese: The Ladies’ Man?

This entry is a miscellaneous piece of sorts in commemoration of the Scorsese blog-a-thon. Bow down to the genius, or at least contribute with an entry (or head over to LAMB and check out the other entries tomorrow).

            

While looking at The Age of Innocence recently I wondered why Marty is called a man’s director. It’s a little bit of a paradox if you come to think of it. In the same way that George Cukor is called a women’s director even though he’s done films highlighting his men and women Marty is given the male monogram even though he works as effectively with his men as with his women. Sure, his films are a bit more testosterone driven, but like Streisand said – there’s always a woman. Of course he directed Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore to directly combat the misconceptions. The film earned Ellen Burstyn an Oscar. He hasn’t done such a female centred flick since, but the women are always necessary in his pieces. When I think of Scorsese as a pimp (I use the word loosely, of course) I always come to The Aviator. Of course, I’m just smitten with that because of the Old Hollywood allusions (and Cate/Kate the Great). Still, Howard is literally swimming a pool of women, even if he doesn’t know it himself. Yes, Cate/Kate does seem to take the forefront but from Jean to Kate to Jane to Ava it really about the women. I just pretend that the third quarter is nonexistent, of course…

But, I’ll jump ahead to the next ScorCaprio piece – The Departed. If any Scorsese film stinks of men, it’s this. Vera Farmiga is the only female who isn’t playing a whore or …a kept woman. Yet, she comes out of it looking mighty good, with an underwritten role. Her role is more than a little thankless, but she makes it all work – including that somewhat stodgy Boston accent, which I forgive her for. I’m not sure if it’s Vera’s tenacity, or Scorsese’s brilliance, but Vera’s Madolyn comes out looking better than she did after reading Monahan’s script. If we jump all the way back Good Fellas I suppose we could say the same about Lorraine Bracco, although she isn’t really the only woman on set. Her performance sneaks up on me, a little, though. I’m never expecting her to make any impact, and then she does. I don’t love the performance, but it’s still credible – and I can’t ever hate a Lorraine performance. It’s the same way with Barbara Hershey. I always think I don’t like The Last Temptation of Christ, and I every time I see it I realise I like it quite much actually. I blame it on The Natural, but I’m always apt to think Barbara Hershey is a villain. Am I the only one who thinks she’s an unlikely Mary Magdalene? I mean, she gives a courageous effort – and is quite good – but I always like to think how brilliant it would have if Marty had “discovered” Michelle for the role, before Countess Olenska. She would have been brilliant.

Speaking of The Age of Innocence, I’m always apt to call it my favourite Pfeiffer performance, even though it’s not really her film. Marty really likes his women looking good, though. Liza Minnelli is rarely as lovely as she is in New York, New York and though I’ve never been too fond of Michelle Williams, as a beauty or an actress, within her few minutes in Shutter Island I became a believer. Didn’t you wish that they’d scrapped Lehane’s whole pseudo-psychology shtick and focused on a straight drama with Leo and her? It’s as if Marty’s screwing with us, a little. I honestly become invested in the reality of that relationship, even if Michelle’s Dolores is the most wicked of Scorsese’s women. He has a thing for virtuous women, doesn’t he? Not in the usual sense, but from Madolyn, to Jenny, to Francine to Kate to Vickie how many images of the broken man being consoled by his devoted woman do we have? Sure, the hypothesis goes askew sometimes, but the similarities are interesting. But maybe that’s just him screwing with us again.

              

I can’t account for why Casino and Cape Fear, and both incidentally earned its women Oscar nominations. But I can’t account for how Juliette Lewis (admittedly good) gets nominated for every award body and Jessica Lange goes completely shafted. I’m probably one of the few that enjoyed Sharon Stone in Casino, I wasn’t gunning for her to win but it’s a nomination well deserved. Of course, Jodie Foster’s Iris doesn’t fit anywhere into the whole classification of Scorsese’s women…and I still can’t pick a favourite…I’d be stepping on someone’s toes whomever I choose…but just to go arbitrary Kate for speaking…the Countess for looks. 

Anybody Can Do Anything, Especially Scorsese: The Musical

This entry is in celebration of the Martin Scorsese blog-a-thon hosted by LAMB. If God was a man he’d be Scorsese, so ummm, contribute and head over and check out the other entries tomorrow.

              

Scorsese is really diverse – even though we don’t always realise it. He’s known for his gritty crime dramas, but he does period, he does sports, he gets religious, he goes epic and even touches on foreign drama – and of course the musical. The story behind New York/New York is legend now. Released in 1977 a year after Taxi Driver, it was a flop and poorly received by critics and audiences and led Scorsese into a depression which eventually led to the now legendary Raging Bull. It’s one of those nice comeback stories, and we all love a comeback; but New York/New York has more worth than being a catalyst for that 1980 classic. If anything New York/New York is the proof that Scorsese can do anything. The film is a tribute to the Golden Age of musical as Scorsese creates an ode to the period, it’s not perfect but it’s splendid. It’s something that you can count on Scorsese for, though. He never skimps on the technicalities.

The story is slight. A wannabe starlet and musician form a relationship and the film chronicles their experiences. I’ve been one of the many to remark that Lars Von Trier likes to f*** with you (it’s why he’s not one for me). I will admit that Scorsese tends to do it every now and then two. We spend almost half an hour in what seems like a flawed Woody Allen comedy of sorts until Marty decides to start throwing wrenches at us. Liza Minnelli and Robert DeNiro – both Oscar winners already – star as the couple and they’re good together. I’m always more than slightly miffed that Liza is not as highly regarded as she should be. New York/New York isn’t a love story, but the chemistry between she and Robert shines brighter than even the most iconic of Marty’s romances. They’re excellent together, but it’s Minnelli of course who shines brighter. It’s a pity that the film has become forgotten, it’s probably the most dramatic work I’ve seen her do (yes, even more than Cabaret). She’s never looked (or sounded) more like her mother, but she’s also never been so tender. Minnelli is the proof of how acting in musicals is more than singing, she sells her speaking part as well as her singing, and her rendition of “But the World Goes Round” is a piercing moment of the film as is her performance of the eponymous theme song.

                

But this writeup is about Marty, and it’s as it should be. Because, really, when it’s all said and done he’s really the star of this piece. You wouldn’t believe it’s a Scorsese picture if you were just an incidental fan of his. The culmination of his talents (averse to his usual fare) occurs in a ten minute musical spectacle where Liza Minnelli (opposite Broadway star Larry Kert) transport – literally – to the world of old musicals. The colour, the costumes, the lighting the editing is all fantastic and it’s a shame that this film couldn’t have at least been remembered for its astounding technical proficiencies. 1977 was a good year for film – The Turning Point, Annie Hall, Julia, Star Wars, The Goodbye Girl and more. But it’s a pity that New York/New York got lost in the shovel. It’s not one of my favourite films, and sure it’s not Scorsese’s best. But I’ll stand by it, Scorsese never made a bad film [yet] – it’s not perfect but you’ll laugh, you might cry and you’ll sure as hell want to be a musician afterwards. Trust me, you’ll be entertained.

                      

....just take a look at this ten minutes spectacle...

          

and just because, here's another song from Liza...her mother's daughter...

          

No one does it like it Marty!