Identity in Cinema Topic 5
Mean Streets (1973) feels the most like a slice of life film than the other two films here. It’s very much an assimilationist work, as Scorcese was clearly influenced by the works of Italian realist filmmakers, and it’s evident from the start. He reworks this style into his own by injecting it with a louder, more stylized approach, but the frameworks of the classic pieces from the 1940s remains. The plot is loose, as it is in both Annie Hall and Do The Right Thing, but the scenes are strung together in a more meandering way. We’re introduced to characters and quickly get to know their distinct personalities and the way they play off of each other in their small circle. But there is very little in terms of a cohesive narrative structure. The film consists mainly of various conversations between the central characters as they inhabit different bars and nightclubs, with a central thread being the recluse Johnny Boy, and the attempts his closest friend Charlie makes to get him to pay off a debt, as well as essentially straighten him out. Scorsese, much like the filmmakers of the Italian Realism movement of the 1940s, is much more interested in capturing the environment these characters live and work in, and what it feels like to actually be apart of these kind of circles. Many of the scenes are essentially just characters hanging out. We see them go to the movies, get into fights at bars, and drive aimlessly around town as they drift from different areas of the grimy streets of the city. The streets feel like they’re just as much a character as any of the speaking protagonists. We see kids in the street, and angry neighbors complaining about the noise outside. There is a growing tension in the air of the film, as more and more people warn Charlie of the danger Johnny is in if he can’t get a handle on himself. Charlie clearly feels immense love and care for Johnny. Not in small part due to the fact that he’s sleeping with his cousin, but he also feels like he’s the only one who really looks out for him. Charlie is also a deeply religious man, Christianity is clearly an integral part of his identity. He feels an intense need to stay true to his Christianity and abstain from sin, but is conflicted by his position as a member of a mafia, run by his uncle. Throughout the film, Charlie’s desire to “save" Johnny Boy from his downward spiral could be seen as a way for him to absolve himself of his sins, or at least do some form of good in his life that he otherwise views as unholy. This conflict between doing right by one’s religion, and doing right by one’s family haunts Charlie for the majority of the film. The ending of the film is inevitable, but it still comes with a crash (quite literally).
The film’s final moment is perhaps its most striking as all of these different images and characters that Scorsese has spent the last two hours introducing collide. As Charlie, Theresa, and Johnny’s car crashes, it’s juxtaposed with a car crash scene from a classic movie playing on TV that another character is watching (one of many clips from old movies dispersed throughout the film). We see quick cuts to the different people we’ve been introduced to throughout the film, as Charlie steps out of the car bleeding. It’s as if Scorcese is tying together and connecting this whole world he’s brought us into. It’s a rush of images and sounds that concludes with a surreal, fourth wall breaking moment as we see the actual orchestra who have been scoring this final scene conclude their piece to a huge round of applause. Finally, an angry neighbor pulls down her shade, blocking herself off from the chaos outside, and essentially the chaos that Scorcese has come to categorize these streets as, which he sees as just another day in this world.
Annie Hall (1977) feels both satirical and assimilationist in it’s style. It’s the most avant-garde of these three films, but it’s a spin on the classic romantic comedy genre that Hollywood has known and relied on for years. In my opinion, I didn’t actually find too much of Annie Hall particularly amusing, but rather off putting in a lot of ways. The film feels almost like five different movies at once, and only bits and pieces of the broader, comical, classic Allen shine through. The textbook notes that the film was initially much less centered on Alvy’s relationship with Annie Hall, but was later edited to have this be the central thread. That makes a lot of sense after watching the film, because many of the scenes don’t seem to connect with each other. The film jumps forward and backward in time with little indication, and feels much more like a recollection of a period in a person’s life than a concrete romantic story. It’s very much a character study of Alvy, who is clearly Woody Allen playing himself like usual, more than anything else. Alvy addresses the audience throughout most of the film, breaking the fourth wall in many scenes, as well as providing narration occasionally. Much of the movie follows Alvy’s romantic and sexual exploits, following him through various pieces of relationships and encounters with different women. His refusal to be alone is a key piece of his identity, and much of his unhappiness seems to stem from this, but he also doesn’t ever seem truly happy in his relationships either. His internal monologues reveal him to have issue with just about every facet of life. He’s in fact, a relatively unlikable character, rather than the everyman who he seems to believe he’s portraying. In terms of religious identity, Alvy’s Judaism is definitely a key piece, and one that he brings up often. He feels like the victim of antisemitism in many instances, and credits his Judaism for many of his attributes and personality traits. One particular scene depicts a dinner Alvy attends with Annie’s very proper Christian family, which Alvy points out is very different than his own family’s dinners. The scene splits down the middle between the two different dinners and the two families almost appear to be conversing with each other, albeit in their very different mannerisms. There are a lot of very surreal moments such as this that almost take the audience out of the film and make them more aware they’re watching a movie. Some of them work in its favor, such as the scene where Annie’s soul steps out of her body and sits next to her body while Alvy tries to get her to have sex with him. But often it all feels like a jumble of ideas that were strung together in the editing process. The city is definitely much more of a backdrop in this film than in the other two films. There are lots of scenes in the New York City streets, on rooftops, and in iconic locations, but the city doesn’t breathe in the same way as the others. It’s there to serve as the setting for the events of the story. It’s very clear that Woody Allen has a lot of love for this city, but I could imagine it taking place in just about any other city.
Given the controversy surrounding much of Woody Allen’s later life, looking at this picture now feels a bit different. As the article by Elena Nicolaou described, some of the scenes in this picture just feel kind of creepy given what we now know about Allen. Not only is there a strange reference out of nowhere to a threesome with two 16 year old twins by Alvy’s friend Rob, but there’s also a few scenes where Alvy acts extremely creepy towards women. In one scene, Alvy basically holds a woman down demanding they have sex. This was a film made in the 1970s, but there are still a lot of moments that come across as not just dated, but down right gross. If we are to look at Alvy as Woody Allen’s alter ego, it’s hard not to separate Allen’s predator behavior from the film.
Do The Right Thing (1989) definitely falls into the dissident category. This is perhaps the most cohesive of these three films. Although there are numerous characters, intertwining storylines, and messages presented to the audience, the overall impact is much deeper. Each of the characters presented feels like they serve a purpose rather than to just enrich the environment, and the single block of Bed-Stuy in which the entire film takes place feels much more alive because of this. Every character we see feels like they’re connected, and many of them actually are as they live in such close proximity to each other. This film feels the most intimate of the three films, but conversely also feels the largest since it’s focus isn’t so centered on one particular character. Sure, Mookie could be called the protagonist of the film as he has the most screen time, but he also feels like just another member of the neighborhood like all of the other characters. I feel like this film is more focused on identity than either of the other films, and it really becomes the central theme of the picture. Many of the characters represent different racial identities, as well as different classes, and they each feel strongly about staying true to their identities. This leads to widespread tension among not just different races but among classes as well. The mayor for instance, is looked down upon by almost everyone in his community for his class, even as he commits some of the only acts of kindness in the film. Hatred is prominent from the beginning as characters feel strongly about living amongst each other, with almost no character not holding some kind of prejudice toward someone different. The chaos that ensues in the climax of the film is inevitable in this kind of environment of mutual hatred and distrust, and Lee seems to be making a point that this kind of violence or chaos will be the outcome in our society if we can’t see past our differences. I think this film will forever remain relevant.
Mean Streets, Annie Hall, and Do The Right Thing all represent different approaches to filmmaking styles and approaches to capturing what it means to be a human being. They’re all extremely different films that leave you with very different feelings by the end. They’re all set in New York City, which just goes to show how many different walks of life there really are in one place and how many different ways of looking at the world there are as well.
There are enumerable strong points in this essay, and your deep engagement with each of our resources, from Cousins to the textbook to supplemental articles, is clear. My comments are a bit as-usual for you, Jack, which is that there is evidence of such an in-depth and sensitive film critic in here, beneath a somewhat unorganized essay. The scattershot approach to organizing your ideas is not a bad thing, in fact it is exciting to see the thoughts and connections pouring out as you type. When it’s time to crystalize a basic argument or thesis, however, this manner of writing can get convoluted. It might be that this long essay (and in many ways your strongest of the semester) is a starting point for a much grander thesis project, in which each of these arguments might be fleshed out in its own section. From your portrayal of Charlie’s contradictions, to Da Mayor’s kindness, to Allen’s creepiness, I just wanted to keep reading (or talking with you, more likely) about your unique observations. Moving forward in your educational and critical career, I encourage you to chime in to discussions more often. Your writing has always betrayed such an engaged and critical reader of films and resources, and you, as well as your peers, would benefit from sharing in more open-ended and informal environments. We all have a lot to learn, and you have a lot to share. Such a good point, by the way, that Lee’s film feels somehow the most intimate, as well as the largest (both micro- and macroscopic) in its portrayal of individuals unraveling and devolving into the behavior of masses.
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