Murray Moston Movies

"You don't make up for your sins in church; you do it in the streets; you do it at home. The rest is bulls--t, and you know it." Returning to the autobiographical milieu of his 1968 debut Who's That Knocking at My Door? for his third feature, Martin Scorsese examined the daily struggles of a wannabe hood to keep his morals straight on the streets of Little Italy. Driven equally by his wish to become a respectable gangster like his uncle (Cesare Danova) and his desire to live his life like St. Francis, Charlie (Harvey Keitel) takes on his energetically unhinged friend Johnny Boy (Robert De Niro) as his own personal penance, intervening to get Johnny Boy to pay off a debt to the local loan shark Michael (Richard Romanus). Despite his promises to his epileptic girlfriend Teresa (Amy Robinson) that they will move out of Little Italy once he strengthens his position in his uncle's world, Charlie's involvement with Johnny Boy further ensnares him in the neighborhood. When Johnny Boy decides to mouth off to Michael rather than pay him, Charlie, Johnny Boy, and Teresa try to flee Michael's murderous anger (and an assassin played by Scorsese), forcing Charlie to realize that the rules of the streets do not mesh with absolution. Whereas fellow "film school generation" director Francis Ford Coppola transformed the Hollywood gangster movie into metaphorical epics about the Mafia and capitalism in The Godfather (1972) and The Godfather Part II (1974), Scorsese revised the genre in the opposite direction, focusing on the gritty minutiae of daily life and drawing from personal memory. Combining documentary-style realism (even though most of the film was shot in L.A.); kinetic editing and camera movement; and expressionistic lighting, angles, and film speed, Scorsese presents an intimate picture of the trivial incidents and latent violence of Charlie's and Johnny Boy's world, naturalistically unfolding their experiences rather than simply explaining what motivates them. They lead a claustrophobic, petty existence that Scorsese and screenwriter Mardik Martin witnessed growing up in Little Italy, complete with a soundtrack of hit songs like "Be My Baby" and "Jumping Jack Flash" that had poured out of neighborhood radios. Mean Streets opened at the New York Film Festival to excellent notices and played strongly in New York but failed to duplicate that level of business elsewhere. Even so, Mean Streets established Scorsese and De Niro as formidable young talents and marked the beginning of a long-running and fertile collaboration that continued in such films as Taxi Driver (1976), Raging Bull (1980), The King of Comedy (1983), and Goodfellas (1990). Scorsese's exceptional grasp of the texture of day-to-day life, the rhythm and cadences of street talk, and cinema's visual and aural possibilities makes Mean Streets one of the pivotal films of the 1970s, as well as of Scorsese's career, and an influence on such future filmmakers as Spike Lee and Quentin Tarantino, among many others. ~ Lucia Bozzola, Rovi

This cult favorite from director/producer Sig Shore featured the music of Earth, Wind and Fire and had a #1 soundtrack album, but went belly-up at the box-office. That's a shame, because what other film offers viewers Harvey Keitel as a record producer who skates at an all-black disco rink, Bert Parks as a child molester, and squeaky-clean singer Jimmy Boyd ("I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus") as a hardcase junkie? Other treats on hand include the manager of a Christian pop band threatening to stick an ice pick in Keitel's ear and appearances by noted disc jockeys Murray the K and Frankie Crocker. Amidst all of this insanity, Cynthia Bostick's female-lead turn as a Joplin-like junkie singer named Velour is lost. The film ends with a number of Earth, Wind and Fire songs, but by that point most viewers will be in bad-movie shellshock. ~ Robert Firsching, Rovi

"All the animals come out at night" -- and one of them is a cabby about to snap. In Martin Scorsese's classic 1970s drama, insomniac ex-Marine Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) works the nightshift, driving his cab throughout decaying mid-'70s New York City, wishing for a "real rain" to wash the "scum" off the neon-lit streets. Chronically alone, Travis cannot connect with anyone, not even with such other cabbies as blowhard Wizard (Peter Boyle). He becomes infatuated with vapid blonde presidential campaign worker Betsy (Cybill Shepherd), who agrees to a date and then spurns Travis when he cluelessly takes her to a porno movie. After an encounter with a malevolent fare (played by Scorsese), the increasingly paranoid Travis begins to condition (and arm) himself for his imagined destiny, a mission that mutates from assassinating Betsy's candidate, Charles Palatine (Leonard Harris), to violently "saving" teen hooker Iris (Jodie Foster) from her pimp, Sport (Harvey Keitel). Travis' bloodbath turns him into a media hero; but has it truly calmed his mind?

Written by Paul Schrader, Taxi Driver is an homage to and reworking of cinematic influences, a study of individual psychosis, and an acute diagnosis of the latently violent, media-fixated Vietnam era. Scorsese and Schrader structure Travis' mission to save Iris as a film noir version of John Ford's late Western The Searchers (1956), aligning Travis with a mythology of American heroism while exposing that myth's obsessively violent underpinnings. Yet Travis' military record and assassination attempt, as well as Palatine's political platitudes, also ground Taxi Driver in its historical moment of American in the 1970s. Employing such techniques as Godardian jump cuts and ellipses, expressive camera moves and angles, and garish colors, all punctuated by Bernard Herrmann's eerie final score (finished the day he died), Scorsese presents a Manhattan skewed through Travis' point-of-view, where De Niro's now-famous "You talkin' to me" improv becomes one more sign of Travis' madness. Shot during a New York summer heat wave and garbage strike, Taxi Driver got into trouble with the MPAA for its violence. Scorsese desaturated the color in the final shoot-out and got an R, and Taxi Driver surprised its unenthusiastic studio by becoming a box-office hit. Released in the Bicentennial year, after Vietnam, Watergate, and attention-getting attempts on President Ford's life, Taxi Driver's intense portrait of a man and a society unhinged spoke resonantly to the mid-'70s audience -- too resonantly in the case of attempted Reagan assassin and Foster fan John W. Hinckley. Taxi Driver went on to win the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival, but it lost the Best Picture Oscar to the more comforting Rocky. Anchored by De Niro's disturbing embodiment of "God's lonely man," Taxi Driver remains a striking milestone of both Scorsese's career and 1970s Hollywood. ~ Lucia Bozzola, Rovi

Contract on Cherry Street represented Frank Sinatra's TV movie debut--an event deemed worthy of a TV Guide cover story. Sinatra plays NYPD veteran Deputy Inspector Frank Hovannes, in charge of a special unit set up to battle organized crime. The murder of Hovannes' partner, coupled with departmental restrictions and legalities, leads the Inspector to organize a semi-vigilante group with three other like-minded officers. They murder an underworld honcho, in hopes of triggering a mob war that will result in the decimation of every gangster in the Big Apple. Edward Anhalt's script for Contract on Cherry Street can't make up its mind whether to emulate The Godfather or Kojak. Sinatra's own Artanis Productions was responsible for this film, so any praise or blame must ultimately fall upon Ol' Blue Eyes' shoulders. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Martin Scorsese combined the splashy atmosphere of the old studio musical with an unromanticized marriage story in his valentine to Hollywood and the Big Band era. On V-J Day 1945, newly minted civilian saxophonist Jimmy Doyle (Robert De Niro) meets USO singer Francine Evans (Liza Minnelli) at a dance, but she rebuffs every advance that he makes. A day and a hotel lobby meeting later, Jimmy finally wins Francine over after she uses her pop instincts to save his too-jazzy audition at a nightclub. When she goes on tour with Frankie Harte (Georgie Auld) and his Orchestra, Jimmy tracks her down, taking a job with the orchestra to be with her. Together on stage, they make beautiful music; off stage they marry, but the struggle between two artists begins to take its toll. Unable to understand that Francine's needs and talents are just as important as his, and unwilling to compromise his music for security, Jimmy abandons Francine after their baby is born. Separately, the two succeed even more, as Francine becomes a music and movie star, while Jimmy has a top hit and opens a jazz club. When they are reunited several years later, the pair must decide if their relationship is worth another try. ~ Lucia Bozzola, Rovi

The authorities are placed on high alert when Lane Garrison (Blake Marison), advance man for a notorious assassin, is accidentally killed in an explosion a few days before a major political convention in Los Angeles. Among those monitoring the situation is medical examiner Quincy (Jack Klugman), who is dating reporter Kate Miles (Devon Ericson). It seems obvious to Kate that one of governmental officials scheduled to appear at the convention is slated for extermination--and the more Quincy listens to her theories, the more he begins to wonder just how much Kate really knows about what will happen next. Originally scheduled to air on March 4, 1981, this episode was filmed at LA's Ambassador Hotel, where Robert F. Kennedy was killed in 1968. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

After the mysterious death of seven-year-old Christopher Reano, Quincy (Jack Klugman) checks into reports that a foster group home called Green Springs is endangering its charges with brutal treatment and unsanitary conditions. Pediatrician Dr. Curtis (played by former Leave It to Beaver cotar Tony Dow) hopes that Quincy will help him close Green Springs down: trouble is, the youngsters will then be shipped off to a reformatory that is even worse. It is up to Quincy's psychologist wife Elaine (Anita Gillette) to come up with a radical--but compassionate--solution to the problem. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Martin Scorsese's After Hours is a dark, tragi-comic tale of a fish out of water, centering on an uptight, white-bread computer consultant from uptown Manhattan who finds himself in the nightmarish and incomprehensible (to him) world of Soho after dark. The ordeal begins when Paul Hackett (Griffin Dunne) gets lonely and decides to leave the posh East Side and search the Soho streets for some loving from Marcy (Rosanna Arquette), the pretty young woman he met in a downtown cafe. He has her phone number and works up the nerve to call. She wants to see him, and so Paul grabs $20, hails a taxi and sets out. The weirdness begins when he loses his money during the high-speed cab ride. His visit to Marcy's loft, where he meets her crazed artist roommate Kiki (Linda Fiorentino), is a disaster, as is his encounter with the beehive-wearing retro waitress Julie (Teri Garr). ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi