It has been a few weeks since the last film night. I was off exploring the great west. And it was beautiful. It made me appreciate the great outdoors again, the beauty that surrounds us, and the miracle that is the human body. It was strenuous, it was taxing, and it was tiring...for me. But I made it out alive. Bruised, sure. Battered, a little bit. Bleeding, of course. My muscles ached, my tired feet continued to press on step after step. I kept speaking to myself to continue. Counted the steps. Repeated left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. The fatigue that set in with this hiking excursion, made me come to the realization that these feelings of fatigue, and the goal of making it just a little bit further, fit like puzzle pieces with our films for this evening.
Our first movie, a short film by Martin Scorsese, was shot in 1967, in color, and was an NYU student film. It is The Big Shave. Essentially the plot is a this: a young man wakes up and begins shaving. Everything starts out normally, but then you start to see the cuts and the blood. Unfazed, the young man continues to shave his face. The alternate title to the film is Viet '67, and the film could be interpreted, with a big clue from the alternate title, as a metaphor for the United State's involvement in the Vietnam conflict, and even though it was a bad idea, an indifferent US (the man), continues to pursue the conflict, inflicting, stroke after stroke, more harm to itself, than the enemy (stubble). There are some early characteristics that are quintessentially Scorsese even from this early short of his. A quick introduction to a man who would be a leading voice in the American New Wave, and a champion of cinematic arts, and film preservation. A man who's films are synonymous with a striking voice of violence, and struggle, guilt and pursuing the individual's American dream. The quick cuts, and the close-up of the action are an indelible mark, a watermark, a signature of Marty's. The film is simple and straight forward, and yet it has humor, and grittiness. I felt that the use of blood in this film, along with its iconic director tied nicely in with our feature presentation.
*
Of all the pictures that Martin Scorsese has created, of all the cinematic moments, of all the iconic scenes and lines, none are talked about with more adoration, more sincerity, and more lovingly than Raging Bull. Thus far, it's Scorsese's Schindler's List. And he's still got a few years left. There is, on the radar, another collaboration with Pesci and DeNiro along with Pacino in the works. Scorsese has made film after film of solid work. Even when he experiments with uncharacteristic subject matter, like a strong woman driven narrative, or a gaudy musical, or Victorian era period piece, his work is interesting. But more importantly, his work is consistent. I am one who can appreciate performances in a shitty film, and I can appreciate great direction and cinematography in a shitty film (i.e. Dark Shadows). I have viewed almost the the entire oeuvre of Scorsese and have appreciated his films, and have been blown away on more than one occasion. Raging Bull is one of those films. It has appeared time and time again on top ten films lists, and appears on AFI's list of 100 greatest American films in the number four spot. In 1990, the first year it was eligible, it was chosen to be included in the National Film Registry as a film that is aesthetically and culturally significant.
DeNiro read the book that the film is loosely based on when he was on the set of The Godfather Part II, and immediately consulted Marty that this is a film they should make together. Marty went on to make a few more films, a couple with DeNiro. DeNiro, I'm sure, pestered him every now and then about the potential of this film. Scorsese was not a sports guy, he didn't feel like it was a project that suited him. He has said, "A boxer? I don't like boxing...Even as a kid, I always thought that boxing was boring...It was something I couldn't, wouldn't grasp." So, he pushed it aside. When Scorsese, addicted to cocaine, almost died of an overdose, he was approached again by a supportive DeNiro. DeNiro brought up Raging Bull again. Scorsese dove into the project, not necessarily for his sake, but for DeNiro's. After a decent and straightforward draft of the script was written, they brought in Paul Schrader, who wrote Taxi Driver, to rewrite it. He included, through his research, the large brother arch that was absent in the book. Scorsese had problems getting funding, and wanted to cast lesser known actors in roles. Enter Joe Pesci, a guy who had done one other movie before, and had retired from acting and was running a restaurant in Jersey. When Scorsese and DeNiro saw the film and were impressed, they approached him for the role. He relented. Pesci was instrumental in suggesting his longtime comedy partner and friend Frank Vincent for a role, as well as unknown Cathy Moriarty for the female lead. They had their players, they had a script, and they finally got funding. Scorsese and DeNiro went to St. Maarten and did extensive re-writes on the script that suited their tastes, their sensibilities, and the penchant for improvisation. When they began filming, they consulted, movie greats like Michael Powell, who helped Martin make the decision to shoot the film in black and white, to distinguish it from other boxing films being produced, such as Rocky. Scorsese also brought in choreographers to help with the boxing scenes. Marty made a conscious decision to film inside the ring, and not outside, like other boxing films of the day. This lead to innovation in camera placement and movements. Both DeNiro and Scorsese did a lot of research by going to and participating in boxing matches. DeNiro, with the real LaMotta as his trainer, competed in three boxing matches winning two of the three. Scorsese attended several matches and noted the blood soaked sponge and the ropes dripping with blood as particularly eye catching. He went on the include these images in the film.
There is so much preparation that went into this film, and it shows. Not to mention the years of preparation from DeNiro as he thought about this project. From the opening scene you're hooked. The malaise of the slowly dancing boxer in black and white with light bulbs flashing occasionally. The sentimental music playing as if to warn the audience, "this is not movie with a happy ending" The film is book ended by Jake LaMotta soliloquizing. The rest of the narrative is linear as we go through aspects of his life and his desires to not just be a contender, but be a champion. We see him box in few scenes. Altogether, the boxing scenes, though beautifully choreographed, make up less than thirteen minutes of the film, this is classified as a sports movie.
The film itself is beautiful. It is poetry. Because of the way it is shot we have this subtle voyeuristic approach to the events depicted. The cinematography is breathtaking. Besides the stark images of the blood soaked sponge and dripping ropes as previously noted, the last fight with Robinson with the Jaws shot, and Robinson bringing his fists down to pummel LaMotta again is so beautiful it should be on the cover of a magazine. The acting is incredible, and at times, very off-putting. It makes you wince. DeNiro's stare at the dance is solid. He somehow manages to convey everything he is thinking, despite the blankness of his stare. It makes no sense to me. The interaction with Vikki at the fence, a metaphor for the barriers that LaMotta was going to have to break, but also the obstacles in his and Vikki relationship throughout the film, is astonishing. Even more astonishing that interaction was improvised. Joey punching his brother in the face is also a hard scene to watch as you realize that those are actual punches. Or the scene near the end of the movie when DeNiro is punch the jail cell walls and headbutting it. So much pain and aggression and loss is conveyed in near wordless scenes. There's this golden age of cinema, and French New Wave way that many of the scenes were shot, and you can't help but appreciate the camera movements. They're so subtle, but so effective. The dialogue is crude, the characters are crude, even the act of punching someone so much their feet give way is crude, but the mise-en-scene, the framing, the cinematography, the direction, is refined and lovely. There are scenes of humor throughout that buoy up the denser scenes, and I appreciate the inclusion.
After the bulk of the film was completed, Scorsese shut down production, so that DeNiro could put on 60 pounds to play the older, fatter LaMotta. Those scenes are lethargic, and husky. We see the decline of a once great boxer, reduced to managing a squalid nightclub, which gets him into trouble. A parallel decline also happened when studios failed to pick up Raging Bull. Scorsese felt that this would be the last film he would ever make, and was meticulous in the cutting of the film. If this was to be his last film, he want complete control of the final product. The post-production to a little longer than anticipated, and, ultimately the film was completed. It's run at the box office was sub par, and made a paltry amount. However, the rave critical downpour elevated it into a cult classic after it left theatres, and garnered many nominations and two academy awards one for editing, and one for DeNiro's intense, almost psychotic and definitely mesmeric performance. This film goes down in film history as a classic. It melds many styles and and much input by many individuals, and this most assuredly stands out as Scorsese's choicest film. A highly recommended film if you haven't seen it.
****
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