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No other film director has had as many classics over as prolonged a period of time as Martin Scorsese. From his famous collaborations with Robert De Niro, through to the development and refinement of his style post-Goodfellas, and later to collaborations with Leonardo DiCaprio, the New Yorker has had a huge career and is arguably the most significant director since the birth of film.
His best films divide roughly into two categories: mob films (Goodfellas, Mean Streets, The Departed) and character studies (Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, King of Comedy). Whereas the former depicts the highs and lows of the gangster lifestyle, the latter focuses on a sociopathic male protagonist, usually played superbly by Robert De Niro.
The mob films are sheer hedonistic entertainment, thanks to inventive editing, witty (and often improvised) dialogue and a blistering rock soundtrack. Scenes like the extended tracking shot through the Copacabana in Goodfellas and the improvised ‘You talking to me?’ scene in Taxi Driver have gone down in cinematic history, and are evidence of Scorsese’s unique talent.
Key to the scintillating atmosphere of the mob films is the intelligent use of music, chosen not only to enhance the mood but also to relate to what’s happening on screen. Scorsese has a keen ear for this, and gives the music he chooses a pivotal role in the film, often cutting the action around the music instead of vice-versa.
A director of several music documentaries, Scorsese passion for rock music is reflected in these films; whether it be used to introduce a character, such as Robert De Niro’s young, sprightly Jimmy Boy to ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ in Mean Streets, or Jack Nicholson’s ageing drug lord Whitey to ‘Gimme Shelter’ in The Departed; as a title theme, as in ‘The Departed’s’ aggressive folk-metal mix of the Dropkick Murphys’s ‘I’m Shipping Up To Boston’; and at times simply to look breathtakingly cool, like De Niro smoking to Cream’s ‘Sunshine Of Your Love’ in Goodfellas.
As a whole, Scorsese’s films are a lot like the Rolling Stone’s songs he uses so frequently. Just as these are made up of a several layers of sounds, often with multiple vocalists, guitar riffs, percussion, saxophones, pianos etc. all at performing at once (listen to ‘Gimme Shelter’, ‘Rocks Off’ and ‘Brown Sugar’), so his films cram in many sensual delights together. Take for instance the beginning of Casino, where a voiceover, soundtrack and on-screen action all vie for attention at once.
All this makes fantastic entertainment out of what are very violent films. This does then beg question whether violence is being glamorised, and inevitably raises questions about the films’ morality. But Scorsese’s style is that of storyteller, not preacher, and he allows the viewer to draw his own conclusions. The ironic endings of Taxi Driver and King of Comedy do not leave us feeling good for Travis Bickle and Rupert Pupkin, but instead deeply uncomfortable.
Though the experience of the film itself is usually an enthralling ride of thrills and spills, the feeling at the end of it all is usually remorse for characters’ situation and discomfort regarding the film’s conclusion.
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