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Mean
Streets (1973)    
Review
Martin
Scorsese draws inspiration from Jean-Luc Godard in this thematic
follow-up to Who's That Knocking at My Door. We're brought back
to New York's Little Italy, where small-time crooks and gangsters try to
find a way to enjoy life – or rather get by. The film has a
stripped-down realism, which is at times stirring, but its unnarrative, dense
tone makes it a strenuous experience, especially as Scorsese centres the
film's conflict around the no-good Johnny Boy (Robert De Niro), whom nobody really cares for
– and understandably so. Harvey Keitel's character is by far the film's most
interesting, and it is through him, in the more relaxed moments, that Mean Streets comes alive
as an atmospheric
portrait. Scorsese demonstrates an abundance of flair and technical
resourcefulness, but the film is too tapered and laborious to truly
engage. There is little joy either in front of or behind the camera, and the
result is ultimately more style than substance – more snapshot than
complete work of art. With Paul Schrader's help, Scorsese had far more to say with Taxi
Driver three years later.
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