Sometimes I Feel Like A Human Sacrifice: New York Stories (1989)

The anthology film has become a thing to expect in contemporary cinema, a means within which to bridge the gap between loose genre ideas or to create a feeling of a global community discussing the rhetoric of a singular idea, such as love, loss or happiness.  Even the other omnibus works, such as Paris Je T'aime suffer from a heavy sense of knowing that this work is offered within a collection of larger statements, therefore, unjustly affording filmmakers a belief that they do not really have to try and offer anything of worthy cinematic consideration.  This is by far not the case when concerning New York Stories, a set of three featurettes by three directors whose identities are more or less inextricably tied to the city.  What makes this anthology work particularly fascinating is that the products of two out of three of the filmmakers are some of their best work in rather storied and well-regarded careers, and the third while clearly the weakest in the collection, nonetheless lays out what cinephiles would come to expect from a second generation filmmaker and writer in one of cinemas most well-respected families.  Where as other city film anthologies use the space of the movie to wax poetic about the serene and sentimental experiences of the spaces they occupy, New York Stories exists in  world about New York that paints it both with endearing pride, while also making note of all the ways it is a city of struggles, failures and lack.  Two out of the three works exist in a state of magical realism, nonetheless, playing upon the tropes of New York, where as the other manages to pinpoint into a singular narrative of a man and woman "in love," perhaps even extending into its own consideration of the relationship between New York and New Yorker.  I say all of this having only spent a couple of hours in New York as a teenager, not really understanding a bit about its spaces or the bodies which occupy its vast area.  Instead, what I posit is that New York Stories works for all moviegoers because through the intimacy of the subject matter, passion emerges, so much so that it becomes a text book look at New York, the entity, without ever being pretentious or calling attention to many viewers outsider status.

Split into three distinctly different narratives, the first film directed by Martin Scorsese is title Life Lessons and focuses on action painter Lionel (Nick Nolte) who is panicking for his upcoming studio exhibit, much to the chagrin of his agent  Lionel, while allegedly capable of throwing together a show at a moments notice is, nonetheless, anxiously awaiting the return of his assistant and lover Paulette (Rosanna Arquette).  Upon her return Paulette explains that she no longer wants to be involved with Lionel and has indeed just ended a tumultuous relationship with performance artist Gregory Stark (Steve Buscemi).  Flailing to assert his authority, Lionel plays a game of cat and mouse with Paulette, using his power as an artistic giant to convince her to stay and hone her craft in his studio.  However, it becomes clear that Lionel is only interested in using her sexually, leading to her eventually packing her things and leaving, an act that leads Lionel to complete his Bridge to Nowhere painting and mirroring this metaphor with his immediately moving on to a new ingenue during his exhibit opening.  The second film Life Without Zoe, is directed by Francis Ford Coppola and co-written by his daughter Sofia Coppola.  Wherein a young girl named Zoe (Heather McComb) talks in roundabout fairy tales as a way to analyze the troublesome relationship between her parents flautist Claudio (Giancarlo Giannini)  and wife Charlotte (Talia Shire), as well as commenting upon the feelings of alienation which emerge for her parents constantly being away.  In a decidedly child as adult feel evident in later Sofia Coppola work, the film looks at Zoe's attempts to act in the hyper-adult, only able to do so through excessive wealth.  In the end, however, Zoe realizes that sometimes a momentary feeling of unity with one's family is far more valuable than anything money could hope to buy.  The final segment is Woody Allen's Oedipus Wrecks which focuses on Sheldon (Woody Allen) an established attorney with a loving girlfriend named Lisa (Mia Farrow).  Despite success and love, Sheldon cannot shake the condemnation he constantly faces by his mother, played by Mae Questel.  It is during an "unfortunate" accident at a magic show that Sheldon's mother disappears inexplicably, leading to a momentary feeling of freedom by Sheldon, improving his sex life, while allowing him the freedom to excel at his job in new ways.  However, when his mother emerges as a floating entity in the sky line of New York things change drastically and Sheldon's feelings of oppression blow up to a grandiose proportion.  It is indeed not until he finds a new girlfriend appropriate to his mother's strict demands that her presence no longer becomes omniscient, or at least less blatantly so as the closing moments of the film might suggest.

The fascinating thing about this particular anthology is that aside from auteurist elements present within each film, one could find themselves hard-pressed to claim a thematic link between the three separate stories.  Indeed, aside from the psychoanalytic nightmare that is traditional Woody Allen filmmaking from the era, these seem like, as noted earlier, statements on existing within New York, more so that individual films about a city.  For Scorsese, the issue at hand is how one "performs" the New York lifestyle, particularly one like the New York art world which predicates itself upon a certain pomp and circumstance where struggle is embraced, but not something that should be affirmed physically.  Take the distinct difference between Lionel and Paulette for example, he is well off given his status in high art and can afford to drunkenly feign trouble, whereas Paulette's gender and other issues legitimize her struggle and also do not allow her the privilege to simply perform any degree of abjection.  Coppola's film then becomes about the issue of learning class privilege in the space of New York, it is fitting that Sofia helped write this script, because it lends a layer of credibility to how she would have seen the world as a youth, attempting to rationalize the decadence of her youth with the bustling reality of New York, one where hands literally extend from the trash to beg for food, while she can purchase absurd amounts of food, jewelry and even alcohol despite being admittedly too young to understand how credit works.  The robbery in the film takes on a wonderful layer of class conflict, as does the closing moment in Rome become a moment of scathing irony, which would become a staple of Sofia Coppola's oeuvre (it would be fascinating, in fact, to stand this film up against Marie Antoinette).  With these two films in mind, Oedipus Wrecks then considers the nature of constant looking and watching that occurs within New York, to Allen, New York in all its wonder is also a place where every action is scrutinized, because space is limited and filled with many bodies, all with stories and opinions, some more willing to share than others.  Always the existentialist, the film considers what distinction could possibly emerge between Sheldon's singular struggles and the larger struggles of society.  Perhaps it is all inherently meaningless and Sheldon is merely overreacting, what Allen does show is that, in the end, some encounters are simply unavoidable.

Key Scene: Woody Allen steals the show here and Sheldon's smirk when his mother is "being stabbed" will make you laugh.

The bluray for this is surprisingly cheap, but should in no way suggest a lesser product.  In fact, this is probably one of the more overlooked works from the year.

If You're Gonna Lead People, You Gotta Have Somewhere To Go: Rumble Fish (1983)

I am starting to consider the very real possibility that Coppola's best work occurred, while he was adapting S.E. Hinton novels to the screen.  Of course The Outsider's is a bit moderate and youthful, a far cry from his works like Apocalypse now which are considerably hyper-violent.  However, Rumble Fish, his work, also an adaptation of a Hinton work of the same name, throws out some of this youthful safety in favor of a brutally honest, yet cinematically poetic film, filled with an exceptionally large amount of rising stars and individuals who would become big name actors, even a few finding work still today.  Not to mention an awesome cameo, of sorts, by Tom Waits, in what may well be his best performance.  It is clear in this film that Coppola is reaching far back into something profoundly sentimental, providing a film that is as experimental as it is a twisted romansbildung.  Imagine a film with all the youthful bliss of The Outsiders, plus the gang oriented narrative of West Side Story, minus the pesky singing and dancing and you might be able to construct a very cursory understanding of what is offered in Rumble Fish, but even then you would still have to add the art house flair of early Scorsese, a healthy dose of Italain Neo-realism and an undeniable splash of Fellini to even begin to understand the complexities of this film.  I often wondered, when, if ever, Sophia Coppola drew inspiration from her father's work and I can say with some certainty that it likely occurred with Rumble Fish, indicative of its near ethereal nature, as well as her presence in the film playing one of the younger  characters.  It is interesting to pair this simulacrum of a urban landscape occupied by disillusioned youth with any of the later 80's youth films in its refusal to deal with ennui and the awkwardness of growing up via hip New Wave music and witty cynicism.  The world of Rumble Fish is tragic from the on set and even when you think nothing can possibly get worse, the characters engaging in this colorless world manage to fall further into the abyss.

Rumble Fish focuses primarily on the experiences of Rusty James (Matt Dillon) a rebellious young man who fancies himself the leader of a local gang, despite a self-acknowledged lack of smarts and quick wit, Rusty uses his brawn a bit to eagerly to get his way.  Amongst this group include the quick affirming Smokey (Nicolas Cage), the bookish Steve (Vincent Spano), the heavy set bully B.J. (Chris Penn) and the anything but short Midget (Laurence Fishburne).  Along with this group who take up passive gang activities, Rusty also vies for the affections of a local girl, who goes to a private school outside the city named Patty (Diane Lane).  It is during one night of fighting with a rival gang of pill poppers that Rusty takes a shard of glass to the stomach, resulting in his being rescued by The Motorcycle Boy (Mickey Rourke) who is the older brother of Rusty and a sort of local legend, as he was able to leave the city, only to return much to everyone's surpass, notably the police force who have it out for the motorcycle riding utlracool man.  The emergence of his brother, causes Rusty to question his place, especially after the revelation that during his time in California, Motorcycle boy met their mother, a figure long lost from their youth, only to be replaced by their alcoholic and incapable Father (Dennis Hopper).  Much of the narrative evolves to focus on Rusty's contentions with staying in school, ultimately, quashed when he is suspended, as well as attempting to win back Patty after being unfaithful at a beach party.  However, nothing proves more central to the narrative than Rusty's desires to live like his brother, literally following in his shadow throughout the film an act that has considerably cataclysmic results and provide for a magnificently cinematic and tragically poignant closing moment in the film, suggesting a rather unfortunate cycle of future events not much different than those occurring throughout Rumble Fish.

A series of unconventional opening shots, at least in regards to Coppola, display a skyline of a nondescript city as clouds roll past at a unusually fast speed.  This evasive world sets the stage for a narrative of entrapment and desired escapism as it relates to Rumble Fish, one in which the city proves oppressive to all those within its limits.  Many characters seek escape through literal means, as is certainly the case with Patty who travels by bus to go to a private school, while others like Father use alcohol as a self-escape by nightly intoxication.  Yet, the literal escape only occurs for The Motorcycle Boy, who becomes a character within a revisioning of Plato's Allegory of the Cave in that he so deeply desires to explain to other what he has seen in California and how they too can witness those things, yet his language cannot occur in a way to explain it to the cities occupants, most importantly Rusty, who admits to his lack of vocabulary.   The Motorcycle Boy has seen another part of the world and returning to the city causes him to spiral into a noticeable depression, one that leads to a considerably desultory lifestyle, engaged with heroin addicts and aimless wandering through pet stores.  In a moment of brilliance on the part of Hinton/Coppola, Rusty compares Motorcycle Boy to The Pied Piper suggesting that people are willing to follow him wherever he leads them, yet Motorcycle Boy admits that he has no clue where he is going, although I would suggest it is more a lack of possessing the means to explain the world outside of the black and white barriers of the city, lending to his preoccupation with the fish the only thing of color within the entire film, which when considering the Allegory of the Cave element to this film, certainly do not lack a metaphorical element.  Ultimately, Motorcycle Boy realizes he failed to share this outside world with anyone and martyrs himself with the hope that Rusty can take up the torch and if the closing shot of the film is any suggestion, it has a possibility, although it will prove considerably exhaustive.  Also apparently there is some reference to Camus via The Motorcycle Boy, which I did not pick up on but certainly plan to explore later.

Key Scene:  While it is not the most cinematic moment of the film, the initial fight scene between Rusty and another gang leader sets the stage for the remainder of Rumble Fish and welcomes viewers to a world that is transcendent of any traditional logic or conceptualization.

This movie is glorious, at the moment only a DVD copy exists.  I hope a Bluray copy is in the works and plan to wait until it is released to purchase a copy.  Until then it is offered as a Watch Instantly option on Netflix.