Tagarchief: New York

31. American Gangster (2007)

Posted on by Jeppe Kleijngeld

Director: Ridley Scott
Writers: Steven Zaillian, Mark Jacobson (article)
Stars: Denzel Washington, Russell Crowe, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Josh Brolin

This review is part of the feature:

The 33 Gangster Films You Can’t Refuse

Though not the most original take on the genre, Ridley Scott’s American Gangster is still superb in several respects. The recreation of early-1970s New York is phenomenal: every setting feels meticulously crafted and fully lived-in. The cast is equally impressive, and the characters are consistently engaging.

Frank Lucas (Washington) is a special kind of incarnation of the American Dream. When his mentor, drug kingpin Bumpy Johnson dies, Lucas replaces him as Harlem’s number one drug lord. His power quickly spreads throughout the whole of New York and New Jersey and he even becomes bigger than the Italian Mafia.

Black crime boss Frank Lucas is based on a real person, and Denzel Washington plays him with chilling intensity. His counterpart is the incorruptible detective Richie Roberts, a man surrounded by colleagues on the take. Roberts is portrayed with commanding presence by Russell Crowe, who delivers a performance in fine form.

The ambitious Lucas, who viewed himself more as a businessman than a criminal, devised an ingenious and cynical method to import pure heroin into the United States: he smuggled it from Southeast Asia in the body bags of American soldiers killed in the Vietnam War! The fact that Lucas profits from his country’s pointless struggle against communism and narcotics has a great taste of irony.

American Gangster is a cops-versus-gangsters film – a bit like The Wire in movie form – and at times Scott comes impressively close to that extremely high standard. The great casting, production design and visual style alone make this a totally enjoyable experience.

New Jack City (1991)

Posted on by Jeppe Kleijngeld


‘It was a time that there was a new gangster in………’

Directed by:
Mario Van Peebles

Written by:
Thomas Lee Wright
Barry Michael Cooper

Cast:
Wesley Snipes (Nino Brown), Ice-T (Det. Scotty Appleton), Allen Payne (Gee Money Wells), Chris Rock (Pookie Robinson), Mario Van Peebles (Stone), Michael Michele (Selina), Bill Nunn (Duh Duh Duh Man), Russell Wong (Park), Bill Cobbs (Old Man), Christopher Williams (Kareem Akbar), Judd Nelson (Det. Nick Peretti), Vanessa Williams (Keisha)

This trip back to the nineties opens with shots of New York and a news report about economic hardship. “The deficit now stands at an astounding 221 billion dollars, and income inequality is at its worst level since the Great Depression”, the voice-over says. Oh boy, if only they could see us now.

In an amazing shot, the camera swoops in on a bridge where a gangster is dangling a man by his feet. Drug kingpin Nino Brown (Wesley Snipes) steps out of his car and orders the man dropped, apparently over a drug dispute.

The movie sets the year at 1986, the height of the crack epidemic in Harlem. Brown, along with his lieutenants Gee Money and the Duh Duh Man – collectively known as the Cash Money Brothers – has seized control of the drug trade. They take over an entire apartment block called The Carter and run their crack empire from within its walls.

Ice-T plays Scotty Appleton, a detective with a personal grudge against Brown. He joins a special police unit tasked with taking down the increasingly megalomaniacal Brown and his CMB crew. The team is led by Stone (Mario Van Peebles, who also directed the film), Detective Nick Peretti (Judd Nelson), and the ex-junkie turned informant Pookie (an excellent Chris Rock).

New Jack City is a true product of its time: the nineties, the crack era, rap music, and capitalism gone wrong (though nothing like today). The costume designers clearly had a field day. The film is also distinctly postmodern: Nino Brown watches Scarface even as he heads toward the same mistakes Tony Montana made. Overall, it’s an effective crime flick: it pulls you in like a crack pipe does a junkie, and you ride it out until the end, when Nino Brown’s empire inevitably comes crashing down.

Rating:

Quote:
NINO BROWN: “You cut a side deal with that motherfucker. Yes, you did, Gee. Fucking Cain. My brother’s keeper. Was it this glass dick you’ve been sucking on? Was that it? Now I see how you let that motherfucker infiltrate. He used you, Gee. What ever happened to, ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’”

Trivia:
Wesley Snipes originally wanted to play Scotty Appleton. However, Mario Van Peebles and screenwriter Barry Michael Cooper insisted that he play Nino Brown, as the part was written especially for him.

Double Bill #15: Taxi Driver & Bringing Out the Dead

Posted on by Jeppe Kleijngeld

In Scorsese’s oeuvre, this is the most obvious Double Bill together with Casino and GoodFellas. Taxi Driver and Bringing Out the Dead share a great deal in common. Both revolve around a driving protagonist who suffers from urban isolation in New York City while interacting with colleagues. Both were written by Paul Schrader, feature a dark atmosphere, and explore urban madness and crime. Visually, each film reflects the protagonist’s mental state within the cityscape – often through POV shots of grim street scenes. In both, the anti-hero is driven by a desire to save others, particularly women. Each also features a rapid-fire cameo by Scorsese himself (in Bringing Out the Dead, he’s the voice of the radio dispatcher). Both films include moments that likely exist only in the protagonist’s mind: Frank Pierce (Nicolas Cage) sees visions of ghosts and corpses on the streets, while Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) probably imagines the entire ending of Taxi Driver. Of the two movies, Taxi Driver is obviously the masterpiece. It captures the transformation of this complex main character perfectly. From oddball, to radical, to killer. De Niro’s performance is deeply unsettling; he truly becomes Travis, and it shows. His voice-over beautifully conveys his descent into psychological darkness, and the lines have a raw, poetic quality. Shot on a low budget in a documentary style, the film has a gritty authenticity. Add Bernard Herrmann’s haunting score and the outstanding supporting cast (Jodie Foster, Peter Boyle, Harvey Keitel, and Cybill Shepherd), and you have a truly iconic classic on your hands. While Bringing Out the Dead never reaches that same status, it remains an underrated entry in Scorsese’s filmography. It vividly captures the stress and chaos of working as an ambulance driver, with striking imagery – like Frank literally lifting spirits in the city. Philosophically, it reflects on life and death in the modern metropolis and, unlike Taxi Driver, includes moments of humor (in Taxi Driver, the only joke is Travis taking his date to a porn movie). Viewed together, these films form a fascinating pair: after descending into the darkness of Taxi Driver, Bringing Out the Dead feels almost like a cathartic, even therapeutic, experience.

Mean Streets (1974)

Posted on by Jeppe Kleijngeld


‘You don’t make up for your sins in church. You do it in the streets…’

Directed by:
Martin Scorsese

Written by:
Martin Scorsese
Mardik Martin

Cast:
Harvey Keitel (Charlie Cappa), Robert De Niro (John ‘Johnny Boy’ Civello), David Proval (Tony DeVienazo), Richard Romanus (Michael Longo), Amy Robinson (Teresa Ronchelli), Cesare Danova (Giovanni Cappa), Victor Argo (Mario), George Memmoli (Joey ‘Clams’ Scala), Lenny Scaletta (Jimmy), Jeannie Bell (Diane)

Mean Streets marks the first collaboration between Martin Scorsese and Robert De Niro and right out of the gate, it’s a masterpiece. Set in the tight-knit world of Little Italy, the film follows four small-time hustlers: the conflicted Charlie (Harvey Keitel), hot-tempered bar owner Tony (David Proval), dim-witted loan shark Michael (Richard Romanus), and the reckless wildcard Johnny Boy (Robert De Niro).

Although it isn’t technically Scorsese’s debut, it feels like it. This is the movie in which his voice fully emerges for the first time. It showcases early yet commanding performances by Keitel and De Niro, two actors who would become his most trusted collaborators. Many of the hallmarks of Scorsese’s later masterpieces are already present: the gritty New York setting, the soundtrack full of sixties pop classics, the collision of religion and crime. This isn’t exactly a gangster film – it’s about small-time crooks – but it plays like a prelude to GoodFellas, with dialogues and moral tensions that already sound familiar.

Scorsese immediately sets the tone with a Super 8 projection of Charlie wandering the streets, underscored by the Ronettes’ ‘Be My Baby’. From there, we trail Charlie through his daily routine: drinking in bars, running minor cons, wrestling with Catholic guilt in church visits, and trying to reconcile his moral compass with his ambition.

Charlie wants to rise in the underworld by aligning with his mob-connected uncle, but his loyalty to Johnny Boy – a man drowning in debt and chaos – pulls him down a dangerous path. That loyalty is both touching and toxic, and Scorsese makes it clear early on that violence is never far away. A brutal barroom shooting foreshadows the storm gathering around these characters.

The film’s raw power lies in its atmosphere. Scorsese layers the story with a soundtrack of rock ’n’ roll classics – the Stones’ ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ among them – injecting energy and immediacy into every scene. His restless camera, the naturalistic dialogue laced with profanity, and the lived-in performances combine to create a world that feels authentic and alive.

De Niro is magnetic as Johnny Boy, unpredictable and dangerous yet oddly charming, while Keitel gives a deeply human performance as Charlie, a man torn between sin and salvation. Their chemistry is the film’s beating heart. Scene after scene burns into memory: a drunken spree, a hilariously chaotic bar fight, an explosive confrontation on the street. The pacing is electric, and the details are so rich you’ll want to revisit it just to soak up more of Scorsese’s vision.

The film still feels fresh today. It is utterly original, with no real comparison except some of Scorsese’s later work. Mean Streets doesn’t just hint at the brilliance to come; it announces the arrival of one of cinema’s great storytellers.

Rating:

Quote:
CHARLIE: “You know something? She is really good-lookin’. I gotta say that again. She is really good-lookin’. But she’s black. You can see that real plain, right? Look, there isn’t much of a difference anyway, is there. Well, is there?”

Trivia:
The opening words are actually spoken by Martin Scorsese, not Harvey Keitel as we are led to believe.