Apple TV Special: Mr. Scorsese

Mr. Scorsese is a five episode film portrait about one of the greatest film directors of all time now playing on Apple TV. It’s the most extensive documentary ever shot about the Italian American cinematic master, featuring interviews with a.o. Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro and Daniel Day Lewis. Reason enough for me to subscribe to Apple TV. An additional benefit of the subscription is that Marty’s latest film – Killers of the Flower Moon – is also available on the channel.

Scorsese is a very sympathetic guy; I have seen many interviews with him before, logical since he’s my favorite filmmaker, but in this series, you really get to know the man. He grew up in Little Italy and later Manhattan. He was very asthmatic as a child and he couldn’t play outside. There is this shot in GoodFellas where a young Henry Hill is staring out of the window observing the wiseguys outside. That’s Marty right there.

Movie theaters had air conditioning, so that’s where young Martin wanted to be as much as possible. He could breath there, and the movies formed his mind. At home he watched old Italian films with his family. He started making extensive storyboards which his father thought wasn’t very manly. Marty learned of the mobsters who controlled much of the economic activity in his neighbourhood. His father had a good job in the garment industry, which was worked out by the mob. He told young Marty: “Don’t ever let them do you a favor. They’re nothing but bloodsuckers.”

The young Scorsese initially wanted to become a priest, but that path wasn’t for him. Neither were the streets. Literature wasn’t part of his culture either, but a priest encouraged him and his friends to look beyond what they knew; to go to college, to read, learn, and explore. He attended a talk about film school and heard a professor speak passionately about cinema. That was the moment he knew what he wanted to do.

At New York film school he met Thelma Schoonmaker, his future editor. She recalls seeing his student work and knowing immediately that “he had it.” His student film It’s Not Just You, Murray! (1964) won the award for Best Student Film. In 1967 he made his first feature, Who’s That Knocking at My Door, starring Harvey Keitel.

Scorsese married young, but his first marriage collapsed quickly because his mind went more and more to making movies. He went to Hollywood to further his career and met an amazing assortment of talent there: Coppola, Schrader, Spielberg, Lucas and De Palma, known collectively as the ‘Movie Brats’. They were given this name because they were the first generation of formally trained filmmakers to unite film knowledge with artistic ambition.

In the early seventies, King of the B-movies Roger Corman gave Scorsese the chance to direct a movie. This became Boxcar Bertha (1972), a Bonnie and Clyde-style crime movie. His artistic friends hated it. Marty thought it was a good practice in shooting on budget and shooting on time, but his friends thought he had betrayed himself as an artist.

John Cassavetes had seen his feature Who’s That Knocking at My Door and advised him to make more personal movies like that. About Boxcar Bertha he said: “You just spent a year of your life making a piece of shit. Don’t do that again.” Scorsese showed him his Mean Streets screenplay and Cassavetes told him to go find a lead actor to star in it. Then he met De Niro who was from the same neighbourhood.

Mean Streets was based on people and experiences from his neighborhood and people fell in love with it, because it felt completely authentic. That makes sense, because it was real. Now, Marty got more opportunities. With his next film Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974), he showed he could also direct women. Ellen Burstyn won the Academy Award for Best Actress for her lead role.

Although Scorsese gained recognition, this period also marked the start of heavy drug use. Film remained his way of working through deep inner turmoil. Drawn to darker characters, he was captivated by Paul Schrader’s script for Taxi Driver. He and De Niro set out to portray a loner like Travis Bickle without turning him into a caricature. Travis is isolated in almost every frame. Taxi Driver (1976) was a huge critical success and won the Palme d’Or.

Everybody praised it. It hit a nerve and showed a true understanding of the American unconscious. A lone man who commits atrocities, like the snipers who killed politicians at that time. Travis has a saviour complex: he wants to save the girls and kill the bad guys. The final scene was too violent for the sensors, so Scorsese changed the colour of the blood to dark, rusty brown or brownish-pink rather than bright red. Daniel Day Lewis was hypnotized by the film and went to see it five or six times. It was the first time he saw Bob (De Niro) act, which was a big thing for him.

After the success of Taxi Driver, he made the costly musical failure New York, New York (1977). His second marriage also fell apart and what started then was a period of self destructive behavior. He started doing lots of drugs and tried to find his cinematic muse again. He almost died – and part of him wanted to because he didn’t know how to create anymore. De Niro had a big part in getting him back on his feet. They went to Sint Maarten where they worked on the script for their next masterpiece: Raging Bull (1980).

Thelma Schoonmaker explains the film’s shooting and editing, and the documentary allows you to rediscover the beauty of its black-and-white imagery. It’s a true work of art. Scorsese had found his muse again, and also his third wife: the daughter of Ingrid Bergman and Roberto Rossellini.

After Raging Bull he wanted to do Gangs of New York and The Last Temptation of Christ. The scripts were there, but the movies were too expensive to make at that time. He did another project with De Niro, The King of Comedy (1982), which flopped. Scorsese’s career was now once again in a bad state. “He was done for in Hollywood”, they told him.

He made a comeback with After Hours (1985), an odd ball comedy shot on a low budget. Key to the film, Scorsese explains, was the collaboration with Director of Photography Michael Ballhaus, who would later shoot GoodFellas. In 1985, he married for the fourth time, this time with Barbara De Fina, who would produce a number of his movies, including Casino.

The re-established Scorsese followed up After Hours with The Color of Money (1986), a pool hall movie starring Paul Newman and Tom Cruise, and a sequel to The Hustler (1961). The movie did well, so now Scorsese could finally make his beloved project The Last Temptation of Christ (1988). He made the film to “get to know Christ better”, he explains.

The budget was tight, so he could only do two takes of every shot during the difficult shoot in Morocco. It was very tough, he says. Even tougher was the reception of the film: people were very upset. It was banned in Rome, Israel, and India – and someone set off a bomb during a screening in Paris. Blockbuster didn’t carry the film. Marty needed FBI protection for the second time (he had gotten threats after Taxi Driver and had needed protection then as well).

While working on The Color of Money, Scorsese read Wiseguy by Nicholas Pileggi, the true story of mobster Henry Hill and his life within the Lucchese crime family. Pileggi and Scorsese had both grown up in the same neighborhood and collaborated on the screenplay for GoodFellas. Scorsese had the film fully mapped out in his head – frame by frame, song by song. The result is pure montage, weightless and electric. Scorsese created a new cinematic language for this movie. “It has this crazy energy”, says Spielberg. “Like a runaway train.”

Previews strangely enough saw a lot of walk-outs. Executives wanted him to cut out the last twenty minutes, which is the whole cocaine sequence. Marty stood up to them and saved the movie. God bless him.

After GoodFellas, Scorsese worked with De Niro again in Cape Fear (1991), a successful remake of the 1962 thriller – and in 1995 they made another mob masterpiece with Casino. It’s about mob guys who were given paradise with Las Vegas – but they got kicked out of paradise because they are so evil. The movie has a unique structure like GoodFellas, but it takes it one step further.

In between, he explored another closed society with The Age of Innocence (1993), his first collaboration with Daniel Day-Lewis. It’s about a man imprisoned by the culture he belongs to, and a great love doomed to remain unconsummated.

In 1997, he returned to another genre he loved to do: the spiritual film. Kundun (1997) is about the Dalai Lama in Tibet. There were no actors in that country, so he had to get all these performances out of non-actors. The film was panned-down as dull. Then came Bringing Out the Dead, a loose follow-up to Taxi Driver, but it was still born at the box office.

Scorsese was dead again, but then who came knocking? Leonardo DiCaprio was now Hollywood’s new golden boy, a guaranteed name for box office success – and a movie star with resources to invest in the projects he chose to star in. Now, Scorsese finally got the opportunity to make his long awaited dream: Gangs of New York (2002).

The film reconstructs 1860s New York in massive sets built in Rome. This was the Five Points neighbourhood, which was dominated by gangs. Scorsese calls it science fiction in reverse. George Lucas came to visit the sets and said that “this is the last time sets like this will ever be built”.

The film has an uncanny reverence to today’s political violence, with the natives who can be seen as the proud boys of that time. People who claim to be the only true Americans and are prepared to use savage violence on immigrants.

Fortunately, the very expensive film – that was produced by Harvey Weinstein – did well at the box office.

He continued to work with DiCaprio, first on The Aviator (2004), a biopic about Howard Hughes, a man obsessed with filmmaking and aviation. The film received 11 Oscar nominations, and then it dawned on the film community that Scorsese never won an Oscar. But, even though The Aviator won in nearly every category, it lost the director award to Clint Eastwood for Million Dollar Baby.

But two years later, they made it up by giving him the Oscar for The Departed (2006), another gangster film. It was awarded to him by his old friends George Lucas, Steven Spielberg and Francis Ford Coppola – a bittersweet moment. In 2010, he made another film with DiCaprio, Shutter Island. And to complete the streak with Leo, he made The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), a commentary on how excessive and moralless capitalism has overtaken our society.

Marty once again portrays the dark side of human nature in all its forms, including terrible domestic violence. Scorsese has often been accused of glorifying bad behavior, but another way to see his work is that he refuses to sanitize human nature. The Wolf of Wall Street was a massive success, tapping directly into post-financial-crisis anger.

The documentary concludes with The Irishman (2019) and early footage from Killers of the Flower Moon (2023). We also see Scorsese at home, caring for his fifth and final wife, Helen Schermerhorn Morris, who suffers from Parkinson’s disease. It’s deeply moving to see the great filmmaker in this intimate setting.

Steven Spielberg provides the perfect closing tribute for this must-see documentary about the legendary director: “There is only one Marty Scorsese. He is a cornerstone of this art form. There is nobody like him and there will never be anybody like him again.”

Indeed.

In Brussels (2)

“The mind is not only an internal phenomena, but an external landscape thing as well. When you walk around a city, it is located in your mind and you’re creating every external object you observe in this cityscape. Those objects wouldn’t be present without you. They don’t exist in the world, they exist strictly in observers.”
― Nicky Mento, ObserverWorld

[22-05-25] The road was becoming familiar by now. As I approached Belgium, five towers loomed on the outskirts of Antwerp, overlooking the highway. What a terrible, unnatural way to live, I thought. But I suppose, in this day and age, that qualifies as prime real estate.

Other landmarks slipped past on the A12: the Duvel brewery, the gleaming geometry of the Atomium, and of course, the beautiful cathedral that greets you as you enter Brussels. I was in the city for the second time that week – this time for an interview with the head of the Belgian antitrust authorities, which, in the world of M&A, is no small thing.

It was a week before my 45th birthday, and I felt good. Energized, even. Ready to explore this engaging city once more. The interview went well, and afterward, I ducked into a café to get some work done. Later, I made my way to De Brouckère Square again. But instead of stopping at the Metropole like last time, I went to the UGC cinema to watch Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning.

I’d noticed Tom Cruise’s face of posters scattered across the city when I drove in. In this eighth – and possibly final – installment, he was truly up against the impossible: defeating a rogue artificial intelligence that had seized control of the internet.

The film wasn’t perfect, it dragged on in parts, but the finale was spectacular. The airplane sequence was a genuine triumph. It also tapped into one of the most pressing threats facing the modern world: the drift from information war to potential nuclear conflict. So kudos to Cruise and director Christopher McQuarrie for pulling it off.

Luther had the last word, and it was a hopeful one: there are countless possibilities ahead, and we can choose well: not just for ourselves, but for others. “Nothing is written.” A message that harmonizes beautifully with quantum physics – and fittingly so, given this city’s history. In 1927, the world’s leading physicists gathered at the Metropole on De Brouckère Square to grapple with the implications of their discoveries.

They didn’t phrase it in those exact terms, but the idea was present: the universe arises from unmanifested potential, and it is consciousness – expressed through living beings – that brings it into form, shaping reality within the space-time field they themselves create.

In the film, the AI, known simply as The Entity, can calculate the probabilities of human choices, predicting the future with uncanny accuracy. To defeat it, the characters must make wildly improbable decisions, thereby evading its forecasts. That concept stuck with me: What improbable choice should I make? Should I invest everything into Free-Consciousness and try to get the platform off the ground?

I wandered into a sushi restaurant to think it over. The waiter greeted me with a nod and showed me to my table. I felt a bit like Robert De Niro’s character, Noodles, in Once Upon a Time in America, being led to a bed in the Chinese opium den – where he proceeds to dream the second half of the film into existence. Or so it seems. Only my opium was sushi and cola from an unfamiliar brand.

But I was there to dream. To dream about life, about work, about writing and movies. The week before, I’d come to a realization: I have too many passions. And by trying to do them all, none of them is really going anywhere. I started Free-Consciousness to bring a small spark of awareness to a world in decline. But if I want it to succeed, do I need to go all in?

To help answer that question, I brought along a trusted companion: the I Ching, or Book of Changes – one of humanity’s oldest living oracles. For more than three thousand years, this ancient Chinese system of divination and wisdom has helped emperors, sages, and ordinary people navigate life’s complexities. While traditionally understood through classical philosophy, new interpretations suggest the I Ching might be an early interface for the consciousness field; a symbolic system for engaging with probability patterns and glimpsing potential futures.

My question to the book was simple: Is it okay to dabble in all my hobbies, or should I focus on just one and fully commit?

The system revolves around 64 hexagrams – six-line figures made up of either solid (yang) or broken (yin) lines. Each hexagram represents a universal situation or process. I took three coins from my wallet and cast them six times to determine which lines to draw.

The result was Hexagram 53: Chien / Development. And it was exactly what I needed to hear.

The text read:

‘The image of this hexagram is that of a tree growing high on a mountaintop. If this tree grows too quickly, without properly rooting itself, it becomes vulnerable to the wind and may be torn apart. But if it takes time to establish strong roots and is content to grow gradually, it will enjoy a long life and a lofty view. Human beings are no different. While we often crave rapid progress – immediate achievement of all our goals – we must eventually come to understand that the only lasting progress is gradual. Chien urges you to accept this truth and shape your thoughts, attitudes, and actions accordingly.’

Word. Free-Consciousness is like that tree. It needs time to root before it can rise.

Tarantino About Homosexual Subtext in ‘’Top Gun’

Sid: You want subversion on a massive level. You know what one of the greatest fucking scripts ever written in the history of Hollywood is? ‘Top Gun’.

Duane: Oh, come on.

Sid: ‘Top Gun’ is fucking great. What is ‘Top Gun’? You think it’s a story about a bunch of fighter pilots.

Duane: It’s about a bunch of guys waving their dicks around.

Sid: It is a story about a man’s struggle with his own homosexuality. It is! That is what ‘Top Gun’ is about, man. You’ve got Maverick, all right? He’s on the edge, man. He’s right on the fucking line, all right? And you’ve got Iceman, and all his crew. They’re gay, they represent the gay man, all right? And they’re saying, go, go the gay way, go the gay way. He could go both ways.

Duane: What about Kelly McGillis?

Sid: Kelly McGillis, she’s heterosexuality. She’s saying: no, no, no, no, no, no, go the normal way, play by the rules, go the normal way. They’re saying no, go the gay way, be the gay way, go for the gay way, all right? That is what’s going on throughout that whole movie… He goes to her house, all right? It looks like they’re going to have sex, you know, they’re just kind of sitting back, he’s takin’ a shower and everything. They don’t have sex. He gets on the motorcycle, drives away. She’s like, “What the fuck, what the fuck is going on here?” Next scene, next scene you see her, she’s in the elevator, she is dressed like a guy. She’s got the cap on, she’s got the aviator glasses, she’s wearing the same jacket that the Iceman wears. She is, okay, this is how I gotta get this guy, this guy’s going towards the gay way, I gotta bring him back, I gotta bring him back from the gay way, so I’ll do that through subterfuge, I’m gonna dress like a man. All right? That is how she approaches it. Okay, now let me just ask you – I’m gonna digress for two seconds here. I met this girl Amy here, she’s like floating around here and everything. Now, she just got divorced, right? All right, but the REAL ending of the movie is when they fight the MIGs at the end, all right? Because he has passed over into the gay way. They are this gay fighting fucking force, all right? And they’re beating the Russians, the gays are beating the Russians. And it’s over, and they fucking land, and Iceman’s been trying to get Maverick the entire time, and finally, he’s got him, all right? And what is the last fucking line that they have together? They’re all hugging and kissing and happy with each other, and Ice comes up to Maverick, and he says, “Man, you can ride my tail, anytime!” And what does Maverick say? “You can ride mine!”

From: Sleep with Me (1994)

Watch the whole scene here: