New York, New York

There *are* things to love in NYNY. But over and over again I kept coming back to this thought: does director Martin Scorsese (a genius storyteller) really love musicals, or is he, in fact, satirizing them here? I can't find any other explanation for the creation of a leading character (DeNiro) so self-absorbed, rude, brutish, and jealous of his future wife's (Minnelli) growing fame, while at the same time trying so hard to establish his own fortune with a tenor sax. It's like there's a highly pitched voice of reason trying to remind the audience that in real life, people aren't so happy as they always seem to be in musicals. I know everyone doesn't love (some of you proudly hate) musicals, but usually one can find something redeeming in the characters who populate the stories. For 2 1/2 hours of film, we are presented with a love story which borders on spousal abuse, and somehow be expected to care about the husband. It doesn't work. And yet, Scorsese bends over backward to recreate the 1940's musical/big band atmosphere, from Hawaiian shirts and two-tone spectator shoes to sumptuous big band pieces, not to mention a charming pair of dancers (channeling Gene Kelly and Vera-Ellen?) spotted on a subway ledge or a sultry torch singer in a Harlem nightclub (a cameoed Diahnne Abbott, whose 11th-hour performance of 'Honeysuckle Rose' tips a well-fitted hat to Billie Holiday). One critic seemed to personally resent the channeling of mother Garland through daughter Minnelli (particularly in the supper club where the title song is stunningly performed with all guns blazing), but I think that was very much on purpose. Even though she got much bigger acclaim for "Cabaret," I think Minnelli reached the peak of her musical talents in this film. I loved her. I just didn't love them, and unfortunately, that kept me from loving the whole project. Watch it on DVD, and skip to your favorite parts.

Good musical with De Niro and Minelli giving excellent performances as a pair of aggravating people. Both of them constantly had me grinding my teeth over their silly inability to get along with either each other or, in De Niro's case, with most anybody else. This sax blowing moron couldn't get his mind off himself long enough to notice that there were other folks in the world along with his royal presence. What a s**t! Francine Evans, Minelli, hacked me off about as much as the donuthead she married because he was so transparently phony and she still fell for his every line. Are women stupid? Even though I despised Jimmy Doyle and was aghast at Francine's glossy eyed belief in every thing that came out of this con man's platinum tonsiled throat, I still enjoyed the film, especially the big band music....and Liza can really belt out a song...besides being pretty.

New York, New York is Scorcese's most underrated film. Ahead of its time, out of the mainstream of mundane tastes, and both a tribute and a criticism of the musicals of the 40s and 50s, New York, New York is constantly misunderstood - especially by a culture weened on Rambos and Die Hards. DeNiro is a misogynist; Minnelli, a codependent. The characters are not necessarily supposed to be likeable or easily understood. They are consciously not written to be cozy, comfey typical boy-meets-girl characters. Like any couple caught in the disease of romantic addiction and career obsession, Jimmy Doyle (DeNiro) and Francine Evans (Minnelli) depict flaws that approach hyper-visibility within the context of fake scenery, big brassy musical numbers, a slow pace, and sparse dialogue. It's not that there isn't any normative plot; there just doesn't NEED to be one. Through its minimalism, NY, NY breaks boundaries for musicals in the way that Ingmar Berman films broke ground for European movies. In the 70s, people were tired of musicals and Star Wars had been released. Out with the "old," in with the new. NY, NY only LOOKED like the old movies that modern culture was trying to get away from. Had people looked at it as parody (a trend that was to consume 80s cinema), NYNY would have been seen through a truer lens. DeNiro is tempermental, insensitive, and bombastic. Minnelli is shy and patient. DeNiro is jealous and insecure. Minnelli is focused and self-assured. Minnelli, in fact, not only evokes the period, she IS the period. Her doe-shaped eyes are not lost behind her extravagant custumes, and Minnelli's voice is the best of her career, displaying everything from subtlety (in songs like "You are my Lucky Star," and "There Goes the Ball Game") to power and emotion (in "But the World Goes 'Round," and "The Man I Love"). Minnelli's classic rendition of the title song is a show stopper, coming on the heals of a 15-minute production number entitled "Happy Endings" that takes the film into a three-dimensional surreality, for within "Happy Endings" (the movie within the movie) is a ANOTHER movie called "Aces High," where a sequined Liza combines the personas of Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russel into a single glamorous diva. The film's downbeat ending is actually a sign of strength for the Minnelli character, and DeNiro's Doyle is left alone to ponder the love he left behind.

Released in 1977, Martin Scorsese's NEW YORK, NEW YORK instantly divided critical response--and, facing box office competition from no less than STAR WARS, proved a major financial failure. A significantly edited re-release followed not long afterward but proved even less well received and even less profitable. Although a double VHS release eventually brought the film to the home market, the film remained unpopular and made barely a ripple in public consciousness. In 2005, however, NEW YORK, NEW YORK received an unexpected release to DVD. At long last it may begin to reach a significant audience.

As a story, NEW YORK, NEW YORK draws from a number of oddly "Noir-ish" musicals made at Warner Bros. in the late 1940s. Most particularly, according to Scorsese's commentary, it drew from MY DREAM IS YOURS, a film that not only starred Doris Day but actually reflected her life in its tale of a talented big band "girl singer" trapped in an abusive marriage with a musician. Although the film force-fed the audience a happy ending, later films would not. In the mid-1950s, Doris Day's LOVE ME OR LEAVE ME and Judy Garland's A STAR IS BORN offered stories of a gifted female vocalists locked into disastrous romances that played out to a very distinctly unhappy ending, and NEW YORK, NEW YORK draws from them as well.

Scorsese not only repeats the basic stories and themes of these films, he also repeats the artificially heightened visual style typical of Hollywood films of the 1940s and 1950s--it is no accident that Liza Minnelli looks and sings remarkably like mother Judy Garland in this film--but he does so to an entirely unexpected end. The bravado performing style of such films is completely snatched away, and the characters are presented in an almost documentary-like realism. In theory, each aspect of the film would emphasize the other; in fact, however, this was precisely what critics and audiences disliked about the film when it debuted. They considered it extremely grating.

But perhaps the passage of time has opened our eyes on the point. I saw NEW YORK, NEW YORK in its 1977 release and, music aside, I disliked it a great deal. I expected to retain that opinion when I approached the DVD release, but I was greatly surprised. It holds up remarkably well, and most of the time the balance of artifice and reality works very well. But there are significant flaws. In a general sense, the film has a cold feel to it that occasionally becomes so downright chilly you begin to detach from it. But even more difficult is the character of Jimmy Doyle, the abusive husband of the piece.

The recent DVD release includes a noteworthy director's commentary, and Scorsese states that both he and actor Robert De Niro sought to push the character far beyond the extremes of MY DREAM IS YOURS, LOVE ME OR LEAVE ME, or A STAR IS BORN. They were perhaps more successful than they expected. The result is a character you actively do not want to watch or hear, and although we are eventually allowed to see beyond his annoying qualities that moment comes much too late in the film to make him acceptable in any significant way. It makes for more than one bout of uphill viewing.

Overall, I recommend the film--but it is very much a "Hollywood Insider" film that is probably best left to those who know a great deal about film history and who can recognize the numerous antecedents from which it draws.

Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer

The first thing that needs to be said about Scorsese's highly underrated "New York, New York" is that it can't possibly be fully appreciated by anyone who hasn't seen films like "An American in Paris" and "Singin' in the Rain". Scorsese's film is very much a pastiche (or parody, depending on your perspective) of these earlier musicals by MGM. The entire formula for the film is based around them. Stylistically attractive visuals, light and witty dialogue, a romance at the center of the story, and a foray into narratively digressive musical territory toward the end of the film. It's all there.

This hypotextual reflection of Hollywood's golden age, however, is only half the picture. The other half is that this is very much a Scorsese film, despite many claims to the contrary. Scorsese's hallmarks are all over it. We have Robert De Niro in the lead role, playing an oppressive, dominant alpha male personality type, amplified by a bit of that good old-fashioned Italian-American upbringing that Scorsese knew so well. Harvey Keitel played this character in "Who's That Knocking at My Door" and "Mean Streets" (and even "Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore", in a lesser role), and now, for "Taxi Driver", "New York, New York", "Raging Bull", and even "Casino", it's De Niro.

I've seen nineteen Scorsese films, and this is by far the most cinematographically impressive of them all. The lighting is flawless; the direction exemplary. Scorsese has always been a top talent in terms of his technical skills as a director, but visually, this film is stunning on an entirely different level. The film's aesthetic seeks to mimic the visual attractiveness of those classic Hollywood musicals (Scorsese even gives us a few false backgrounds, just for good measure), and in that way it was very successful. This film is eye candy on a par with Wong Kar-wai's "In the Mood for Love", Korine's "Spring Breakers", Refn's "Only God Forgives", or Fassbinder's "Lola".

As for the film's content, about which too little has been written, the entire thematic core of the film is reflected in the casting of its two principal parts: First, we have Robert De Niro, the classic Scorsese casting choice, playing very much the same character we've seen him play in other Scorsese films. On the other end, we have Liza Minnelli, the daughter of none other than Judy Garland, the ultra-famous musical actress of Hollywood's glory days. And Liza's father? Vincente Minelli, director of famous Hollywood musicals like "The Band Wagon", "Gigi", and "An American in Paris". Scorsese throws these two characters together in a violent tempest of passion and suffocating possessiveness. But we, the audience, are also witnessing two worlds being thrown together: De Niro represents Scorsese's world — his vision of a reality steeped in alpha male aggression and hyper-possessiveness over females — and Liza Minnelli, daughter of the golden age of Hollywood, represents that other, make-believe world of American culture — that unique brand of lighthearted escapism and pure cinematic fantasy that Hollywood produced so enticingly in the '30s, '40s, and '50s. Cinematically, we are watching traditional Hollywood fantasy pitted against a vaguely Cassavetes-esque realism.

What will happen when these two disparate realities attempt to coexist? Well, Scorsese doesn't offer an outright answer, except to say it will be difficult — extremely difficult. Hollywood fantasy has created in the American mentality a world of misplaced priorities and unrealistic expectations regarding life. When the film begins, Minnelli's character seems to have her life together in a way that few Scorsese characters do (naturally, since she's not from Scorsese's world — she is born of that distant land called Hollywood). And then De Niro enters her life, from the other end of the spectrum, and emotionally shatters her to pieces. And so it's very much a film about the conflict between reality and fantasy. Ultimately, reality obliterates fantasy.

The musical detour (the film-within-the-film at the end of the movie) has been the source of a lot of criticism, but once again, no one who's seen "An American in Paris" or "Singin' in the Rain" would be surprised by it. It was a structural necessity if the film was going to accurately echo the formula of those older films, as it clearly intended to do. That being said, I will admit that, at 160+ minutes in length, to abandon over two hours of plot and move into a musical digression so late in the film certainly tests the viewer's patience. There is a moment in this segment, however, that makes it all worthwhile. In this moment, we see movie theater viewers sitting in their seats watching a film, looking straight at us (the camera is placed behind what would be the screen of their theater), and behind them is the projector, casting its image directly at us. And so just as we are sitting in our theater watching them stare at the screen (at us), they are, perhaps, sitting in their theater watching us stare at our screen. And so Scorsese subtly implicates us into the film's themes of fantasy versus reality. Their reality has become our fantasy, and, possibly, our reality has become their fantasy.

The final shot of the film is a reference to Gene Kelly's most memorable moment from "Singin' in the Rain". De Niro is in the street. He stands still, propping himself up with an umbrella. The camera pans down to his feet, pausing on them for a moment. The credits roll. We are left to savor the bitter and disenchanting taste of a reality so contrary to the one that Hollywood has offered us. De Niro was standing on a road that could have very well been the same one on which Gene Kelly sung in the rain with his umbrella. But there is no singing here, the umbrella is closed, and those feet aren't dancing. Reality has decimated the Hollywood fantasy.

RATING: 8.00 out of 10 stars