Fingers

Well, Reservoir Dogs fans, if you've been wondering really where the film is where Mr. White plays Mr. Blonde, this might be it. Only don't expect the same form of psychopathic behavior. Keitel's Jimmy Fingers is a sort of time bomb at times needing to be either detonated or waiting to be set off, and there's even an echo too (or rather the other movie is an echo of this) in Do the Right Thing. But James Toback's script is very particular about his various, half annoying half dangerous tendencies carrying around a radio and a knack for classical music and grit. And Keitel moves in this world like a man so within his own mind that the only way he can act sometimes is in bottling it up before it comes out. It's a very tough performance to pull off, as there's more fascination in what the character completely lacks than in his virtues. It's sometimes teeters even on becoming very uncomfortable to sit through, just in the psychological sense. We may not hate Jimmy Fingers, but he can test patience like it's nothing.

Still, Keitel makes it such a character of idiosyncrasies and at the same time a weird kind of charm that at first sort of reminded me of his debut in Who's That Knocking at My Door. He's aiming for concert pianist, of the level on Carnegie Hall standards. But his father also has him collecting/making bets, and thus getting into things of a sometimes violent and ugly nature. And there's always that radio, blasting out the 'golden oldies' of the kind they used to play on CBS FM in New York. There's even a touch of the Brando-type character in Keitel's mood and mannerisms at times, plus that compulsory sexual nature with women. Towards the end of the film this becomes almost too perverse to handle, and Toback always deals with such dicey material head-on, without pulling any tricks with the camera (in fact, he only so occasionally moves it). While the filmmaker tests the waters with possibly become unnerving and off-its-hinges with watching such unconventional material, more or less he pulls off what he wants, and Keitel is a force to be reckoned with as an actor here. He may lack the realistic volcanic force and wit of a Mr. White, but the not-totally-sadistic Mr. Blonde comes out with just a great hint of the obsessed artist in there too (and what great music there is).

In terms of referring to the 2005 French remake, the Beat That My Heart Skipped, I found that it might be one of those rare cases where the remake does out-do the original, at least in terms of dramatic involvement and in really getting more into the relationship between the father and son (plus there was more ambiguity in terms of the young man's mind state in the French version). But Fingers still holds its own decades later by standing out in the crime genre of the period, and it's up there in Keitel's underrated cannon of work.

Obscuro-a-go-go seventies flick. Seems to be a self portrait of the director himself, how he sees himself. And by all accounts (including his own) it's an accurate portrait. He sees himself as an artist and artists are also gangsters outside the petty mores of straight society. He is vain and selfish and of course women dig him like crazy and get off on being abused. A women in a toilet immediately has sex with his majesty although they've never met. He is just too irresistible. Said girl went on to star in 'Charlie's Angels'. A better class of toilet then. In a final bit of vanity, the artist goes mad as well. He wants to be Van Gough, nothing less will feed his ego. Final shot is Mr.Torbuck as the untamed savage, music can no longer soothe the beast within, etc. One long love letter to himself. Went on to make some nonsense with Rudolf Nureyev and Nastassia Kinski.

Film is a sort of omnibus of seventies attitudes and cinematic style. Bit of second hand Scorcese here and there. Lurches wildly into self parody.

Troubled pianist Jimmy Fingers (Harvey Keitel) pursues artist Carol (Tisa Farrow) with his radio but she is with Dreems (Jim Brown). He gets his musical skills and madness from his institutionalized mother. He's also a ruthless debt collector for his aging mobster father Ben (Michael V. Gazzo). He's the only one left working for him. His father has a large debt to collect but the arrogant gangster is refusing to pay the over-the-hill Ben.

This is Keitel's Taxi Driver. It is lesser known and not as great. The commonality is the lead. Keitel is masterful. He has so much internal fire. He is a man ready to explode at any moment. Now, times have caught up with filmmaker James Toback recently. He's had a career of extraordinary highs and ugly lows. It doesn't get much lower than he is today. That is beside the point. For this movie, there is greatness and his name is Harvey Keitel.

'Fingers' is the kind of movie that makes me value the 1970s over any other decade. A complex portrait of Jimmy Fingers, an ex-debt collector turned wanna be concert pianist (Harvey Keitel, in one of his top five performances), who finds himself drawn back into his old line of work as a favour to his aging gangster father (Michael V. Gazzo, 'The Godfather 2', 'Fear City'). Fingers isn't the most likable character, is obsessed by sex and music, both doo wop (which he plays at top volume on a boom box) and classical, and is obviously doomed to fail.

Keitel is absolutely mesmerizing on screen, and the movie is filled with a supporting cast of interesting faces, including Jim Brown ('Slaughter'), Tisa Farrow (Fulci's 'Zombie Flesh Eaters'!), Danny Aiello ('Do The Right Thing', 'Jacob's Ladder'), future "Angel" Tanya Roberts, and at least two Sopranos. I don't know why 'Fingers' isn't mentioned as much as the more celebrated 1970s crime movies of Scorsese and Coppola. Godard and Tarantino are both fans of this movie, and you will be too if you give it a look. Great stuff!

This hard to find film is well worth the search. Kietel gives an amazing, painful performance as a brilliant pianist whose self-destructive neurosis seems to keep him from ever achieving greatness. The film has been called mysognyistic most likely due to the portrayal of little Jimmy "Fingers". I'd have to say the film itself deals a fairly rough hand to the character's mysogny. Jimmy's social ineptness with women is painful to watch. He alternates between the utmost charm and just plain disturbing street thugishness. All in all it's a powerful film and one of Kietel's best performances.