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#435 - Taxi Driver
Martin Scorsese, 1976
A disgruntled ex-Marine starts working as a New York taxi driver to fight off insomnia, but his encounters with the population only serve to fuel his own mental instabilities.
I'm not sure when the last time I saw Taxi Driver was, but I've considered it a major favourite ever since I first saw it about a decade or so ago. It's interesting to see which films I loved back in the day have held up even now (and it'll be interesting to see what holds up ten years from now), and it's always interesting to see how the opinions change. Approaching Taxi Driver as a teenager, it was hard not to get taken in by the intimidating yet intriguing imagery surrounding the film, such as Robert de Niro's mohawked protagonist wielding multiple hand-cannons as he threatened to make good on his promise to rid New York of the scum of the earth. Of course, even as I watched the film then it wasn't hard to see that there was a lot more ambiguity to it than that, and subsequent viewings have only revealed a lot more (though there is the odd exception).
It almost goes without saying that a lot of what makes Taxi Driver a nigh-undeniable classic is due to the masterful performance by Robert de Niro as Travis Bickle, who initially garners an audience's sympathy as he struggles with unspecified mental problems (possibly as a result of being a Vietnam veteran) and frequent self-medication amidst a general sort of loneliness that is only exacerbated by the reactionary unfriendliness of many New Yorkers that he meets. Of course, there are enough incidents to convince an audience that just because he's clearly disturbed and wants to connect with people in some meaningful way doesn't mean that he doesn't go about in all the wrong ways and can stop being sympathetic; even his most ostensibly friendly encounters with Cybill Shepherd's idealistic campaign worker have a somewhat mean-spirited undercurrent of social ineptitude that makes his inevitable failure not seem like so much of a stretch.
While de Niro easily creates his most iconic role (if not his best) and often has to carry the film in isolation, the film still wouldn't be quite what it is without the considerable ensemble of characters that populate the rest of the film. Shepherd makes for a believable straight character and her interplay with Albert Brooks' snarky co-worker has little to do with the film's main plot yet is amusing enough to not feel like a distraction. Jodie Foster also does well at acting beyond her years as an underage sex worker, while Harvey Keitel delivers a brilliantly off-kilter performance as her pimp (and their one scene together might just be the most uncomfortable in a film riddled with uncomfortable scenes). Even bit parts such as the group of cabbies that Travis hangs out with (one of whom is memorably played by Peter Boyle) or a Secret Service agent still manage to make for memorable and well-performed characters, even if they do end up being little more than sounding boards for de Niro a fair chunk of the time.
As far as technique goes, the film looks amazing with its incredibly harsh neon-soaked aesthetic that tries to make New York look as dark and hellish as possible. Slow motion, smoothly gliding camera movements, editing that manages to be rather jagged at times but not without purpose, plus the washed-out film stock in the finale that attempts to dilute graphic violence but ends up coming across as a distinctive stylistic decision. There's the late great Bernard Herrmann's score that may be more than a little repetitive but its jazzy score that alternates between wistful saxophone and atonal orchestral bursts suits the movie just fine and it's hard to imagine anything else replacing it. Part of the reason that Taxi Driver has managed to stay a major favourite for well over a decade is because, underneath its character study of "God's lonely man" that has been often imitated but never bettered, it still remains a mercurial film that oozes with personality and offers up an immersive cinematic world to the point where its somewhat thin plot almost feels irrelevant, and if a film wants to have some serious staying power then it needs to have some astounding atmosphere to take over when the narrative starts getting a little too familiar.
Martin Scorsese, 1976
A disgruntled ex-Marine starts working as a New York taxi driver to fight off insomnia, but his encounters with the population only serve to fuel his own mental instabilities.
I'm not sure when the last time I saw Taxi Driver was, but I've considered it a major favourite ever since I first saw it about a decade or so ago. It's interesting to see which films I loved back in the day have held up even now (and it'll be interesting to see what holds up ten years from now), and it's always interesting to see how the opinions change. Approaching Taxi Driver as a teenager, it was hard not to get taken in by the intimidating yet intriguing imagery surrounding the film, such as Robert de Niro's mohawked protagonist wielding multiple hand-cannons as he threatened to make good on his promise to rid New York of the scum of the earth. Of course, even as I watched the film then it wasn't hard to see that there was a lot more ambiguity to it than that, and subsequent viewings have only revealed a lot more (though there is the odd exception).
It almost goes without saying that a lot of what makes Taxi Driver a nigh-undeniable classic is due to the masterful performance by Robert de Niro as Travis Bickle, who initially garners an audience's sympathy as he struggles with unspecified mental problems (possibly as a result of being a Vietnam veteran) and frequent self-medication amidst a general sort of loneliness that is only exacerbated by the reactionary unfriendliness of many New Yorkers that he meets. Of course, there are enough incidents to convince an audience that just because he's clearly disturbed and wants to connect with people in some meaningful way doesn't mean that he doesn't go about in all the wrong ways and can stop being sympathetic; even his most ostensibly friendly encounters with Cybill Shepherd's idealistic campaign worker have a somewhat mean-spirited undercurrent of social ineptitude that makes his inevitable failure not seem like so much of a stretch.
While de Niro easily creates his most iconic role (if not his best) and often has to carry the film in isolation, the film still wouldn't be quite what it is without the considerable ensemble of characters that populate the rest of the film. Shepherd makes for a believable straight character and her interplay with Albert Brooks' snarky co-worker has little to do with the film's main plot yet is amusing enough to not feel like a distraction. Jodie Foster also does well at acting beyond her years as an underage sex worker, while Harvey Keitel delivers a brilliantly off-kilter performance as her pimp (and their one scene together might just be the most uncomfortable in a film riddled with uncomfortable scenes). Even bit parts such as the group of cabbies that Travis hangs out with (one of whom is memorably played by Peter Boyle) or a Secret Service agent still manage to make for memorable and well-performed characters, even if they do end up being little more than sounding boards for de Niro a fair chunk of the time.
As far as technique goes, the film looks amazing with its incredibly harsh neon-soaked aesthetic that tries to make New York look as dark and hellish as possible. Slow motion, smoothly gliding camera movements, editing that manages to be rather jagged at times but not without purpose, plus the washed-out film stock in the finale that attempts to dilute graphic violence but ends up coming across as a distinctive stylistic decision. There's the late great Bernard Herrmann's score that may be more than a little repetitive but its jazzy score that alternates between wistful saxophone and atonal orchestral bursts suits the movie just fine and it's hard to imagine anything else replacing it. Part of the reason that Taxi Driver has managed to stay a major favourite for well over a decade is because, underneath its character study of "God's lonely man" that has been often imitated but never bettered, it still remains a mercurial film that oozes with personality and offers up an immersive cinematic world to the point where its somewhat thin plot almost feels irrelevant, and if a film wants to have some serious staying power then it needs to have some astounding atmosphere to take over when the narrative starts getting a little too familiar.