Mean Streets - movie review

"Mean Streets", the 1973 movie directed by Martin Scorsese, and starring Harvey Keitel and Robert De Niro, is one of those films which I think for many people is strangely elusive in its nature. Not a cult movie as such, but equally not one which would be easily described as a mainstream blockbuster. It has a charm all of its own.

The great use of music, a feature of several Scorsese films, is evident from the outset, even in the opening titles. This is just one of those elements which lifts "Mean Streets" well above the mundane. Throughout we are treated to assorted 50s and 60s classics (The Ronettes, The Rolling Stones etc) as well as opera and Italian songs.

The plot centres on mobster Charlie (Harvey Keitel), and his efforts to protect his wayward friend Johnny Boy (Robert De Niro), mostly from loan sharks and their depredations. This task becomes more fraught as Johnny Boy's behaviour grows increasingly abrasive and confrontational. There is some suggestion that Charlie, in pursuing this course, is striving for the redemption which he cannot attain through his religious faith.

De Niro's performance is outstanding, combining impishness and self-confidence with a certain vulnerability. He never allows the character of Johnny Boy to lapse too far into caricature.

"Mean Streets" succeeds in part because it is not weighed down by heavy and momentous themes. The screenplay and the quality of the acting carry any moral messages along with them. To my mind there is a heavy emphasis on telling a story, rather than constantly dwelling on profound issues. This way, the themes themselves are allowed to breathe naturally.

The aesthetic of "Mean Streets" has similarities to previous films;"The French Connection" springs to mind, but the atmosphere is nowhere near as gloomy and austere as other pictures of the genre. The music certainly helps, as does the variety in the locations and the visuals;there is even a scene at the beach. The scenes in assorted sleazy bars and clubs are each given a personality of their own, by the good use of lighting, music and so forth. Yes, it is still a gritty movie, but it also possesses a certain warmth. The dialogue contains some humour amidst the menace.

Due to the format of the film, and the mood which is built up, the viewer develops an empathy for, and an interest in, the destiny of the individual characters on a human level. The emotions are engaged, and this has more to it than merely a tale about mobsters. More depth, even allowing for the sobering and gruesome ending.

"Mean Streets" has been cited as highly influential by many people, both in its visual and narrative feel, and in areas technical such as camerawork and editing. However, it should be judged as an engaging film in its own right, with a distinctive tone stemming from a combination of potent but subtly employed ingredients. The movie may be overshadowed to a degree by the films which later came to define the Seventies in cultural terms, but it is absorbing, powerful and imaginative.

Enzo Ferrari, A Life - Richard Williams - book review

With the dawn of the new Formula 1 season, I have been prompted to revisit some of the racing books gathering dust on my shelves. One of those was Richard Williams' biography of Enzo Ferrari, first published in 2001.

This is a biography of Ferrari the man, so those searching for exhaustive lists of chassis numbers, or intricate technical analysis, should perhaps look elsewhere. There is some good scene-setting stuff, exploring Ferrari's early life and his background.  Indeed, these stimulating passages left me yearning for more information concerning those formative years. The chapters dealing with Enzo's own racing exploits are equally evocative, for example the 1919 Targa Florio.

With limited space, it is understandable that this book does not go into great detail about how Ferrari reacted to, and fitted into, the febrile social and political climate which prevailed in Italy when he was launching his career in motor sport and business. The author does not ignore the issue, though, and one is left with an impression of the realities and choices faced by many prominent Italians at that time.

It is striking how convoluted, constantly shifting, and sometimes strained, Enzo Ferrari's relationship with Alfa Romeo was, much more so than is popularly imagined. I was gratified to find that this stage of his life is covered in some depth, as are the "heroic" and "golden" ages of motor racing, between the world wars. These sections are gripping, and one is left with a vivid impression of a perilous but momentous era. From the emergence of the likes of Nuvolari, Varzi and Moll, and Ferrari's relationship with these figures, to the sea-change brought about by the advent of the Auto Union and Mercedes teams. The legendary races such as the Mille Miglia and the Targa Florio are also afforded due attention.

At various junctures in this biography we are informed how some of the mythology and legend which surrounds (or surrounded?) Ferrari accumulated. It is worth stressing, however, that Williams does not go overboard on this dimension of the tale. Indeed, some myths and/or tall stories are dispelled or debunked. It is tempting to view every episode surrounding Ferrari in "conspiratorial" terms. Thankfully, a more measured and dispassionate approach is adopted here.

The parts of the book which address the tumultuous 1950s are also quite absorbing. The tragedies, the controversies, the playing off of drivers against each other, the brief Ferrari tenure of Juan Manuel Fangio and the turbulent 1958 season all feature heavily. Throughout there are also fascinating and often revealing anecdotes about Ferrari's dealings with drivers, celebrities, notables and the families of drivers. I feel that the portrayal of the man is balanced, showing his flaws but also highlighting his human qualities, which are often overlooked or obscured by the aforementioned mythology.

The outbursts of political trouble in the racing team are naturally detailed, including the problems with Italian drivers, the strains which led to the departure of John Surtees, and the Niki Lauda epoch. A recurring theme in the later chapters is the incidence of infighting, and the extent to which this was compounded by Ferrari's remoteness and consequent tendency to delegate. The complex nature of his relations with several drivers, including Surtees and Lauda, is examined realistically and sensibly. Matters were not always black and white, despite what some would like us to believe.  The accounts of the negotiations with Stirling Moss and Jackie Stewart leave me with a sensation of "what might have been".

Of course, Ferrari's personal and family life are documented here, as is the growth of the road car side of the company. We also learn about the abortive negotiations with Ford in the 1960s, and the subsequent agreement with Fiat.

Overall, this is a lively and well written book.

The Italian Job (1969 movie)

I have always had a mild aversion to the misty-eyed nostalgia which surrounds this movie, the original 1969 version starring Michael Caine. English people are "expected" to embrace it as a luminous symbol of everything that was "great" about the Swinging Sixties. I have never quite bought into the hype, in a similar way that I harbour a blind spot about the music of certain pop/rock groups who are meant to embody the same spirit. I have tended to regard such artefacts as nebulous and lacking in genuine incisiveness. Anyway, I recently dug out the DVD and watched the picture again, to determine whether my reservations had been misplaced.

To summarize, the story revolves around a gold robbery in Turin planned by a gang from England. The first thing which one notices in viewing "The Italian Job" is the opulence of the visuals, the scenery and the clothing, hairstyles, cars, settings and so forth. At the same time, there is an abundance of Sixties clichés, musically, visually and otherwise.

 

Another thing which is worth remembering is that this movie was released in 1969, and it is tempting to ask whether the stylings and approach were out of date by then, especially when set against the deeper and less frivolous work which other people were producing at that time.

 

Michael Caine is likeable and confidence-inspiring as always, and the supporting cast is also admirable, including fine British comedy actors such as John Le Mesurier and Irene Handl in "cameos".

 

In its earlier stages, the film is very fast-moving, with numerous short and snappy scenes documenting the preparatory stages. The plot has more substance and depth to it than I had remembered, even if the dialogue is occasionally implausible. Did the Noel Coward character inspire the creation of "Genial Harry Grout", from the later BBC sitcom Porridge, or is this a long-established plot device in any crime-orientated film or book?

 

I made reference before to the Sixties clichés, and to the notion that the film might have been somehow "dated" by the time of its release. However, upon closer inspection, it becomes evident that darker, more insidious imagery also plays a role here, that more typical of films from the late Sixties and early Seventies. The funeral/graveyard scene is one example. This all helps to make the film more "1969" than some popular myth might suggest. It is not all Swinging London euphoria -  there are unmistakable hints of the more cynical and uncertain times ahead.

 

Of course, "The Italian Job" is best remembered for the sequences in the city of Turin, and for the later scenes involving the Mini Coopers and the coach. These scenes, and the stunts therein, are brilliantly executed, although they occasionally look very "choreographed". These, and the scenes surrounding the heist itself, must have been a very intricate logistical undertaking, and it must be emphasized that, in "technical" areas such as these, the movie is excellent.

 

This film is often described as a "caper", which I take to mean that it is not intended as pure comedy, but not intended as deep drama either. There are definitely humorous and even semi-satirical elements to it, but also more cerebral and serious touches, and these all conspire to give it an endearingly enigmatic and ambiguous character.

 

This correspondent has eaten some humble pie since this most recent viewing of "The Italian Job", but I still find myself unable to become truly immersed in the picture. For reasons which are difficult to explain, it just doesn't engage me emotionally or intellectually, even allowing for the fact that it is not meant to be taken too seriously. It is still great entertainment, though, and the "cliffhanger" ending was a real masterstroke....