Who Runs NYC?

These people, for now. City and State has published this exhaustive list of the people working in the Mamdani administration.

It's an impressive group of experienced public servants -- and it's a good reminder that the most important thing mayors and all good leaders do is to hire people to run an organization. All the greats also have great deputies -- Augustus had Agrippa, Henry VIII had Cromwell and Wolsey, Catherine the Great had Potemkin, Martin Scorsese has Thelma Schoonmaker, and Mayor Z has Dean Fuleihan. 

Just a reminder that A's hire A's, B's hire C's, C's hire D's, and so on (look at the Trump administration, an F president hiring F- people). Mayor Z is an A!

Catherine O'Hara in "After Hours" (1985)

When the notification popped up on my phone that the comedic genius Catherine O'Hara died, I put my phone down and hoped that I was just imagining it. But no. It's sadly real -- she's gone, and our world is a lot less funnier.

The tributes to her career are numerous, and the media and public are recalling her works in movies like Beetlejuice I & II, Home Alone, the Christopher Guest mockumentaries, as well as the great TV shows that bookended her career -- SCTV in the late 1970s/early 1980s and Schitt's Creek in the last twenty-teens. 

But here at Mr NYC, we remember the off-beat work of great talents, most especially involving those related to the city. And in 1985, between her stint on SCTV and her later big hits, Catherine had a small role in the wackiest movie that Martin Scorsese ever made -- After Hours. 

In fact, her future Home Alone co-star John Heard is in it, along with the late Terri Garr. Please check out the Mr NYC After Hours archive -- and remember one of the greatest comic actresses of her era and a movie from a different time in the life of NYC. RIP. 

The Band on SNL — October 30, 1976

Nearly fifty years ago -- on Thanksgiving Day, November 25, 1976 -- the great rock band The Band gave their final performance (with the original lineup) at the Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco, CA. 

It was a nearly six-hour long show where The Band played their greatest hits ("Up on Cripple Creek", "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down", "It Makes No Difference") with with many guests including Eric Clapton, Joni Mitchell, Muddy Waters, Ronnie Hawkins, Van Morrison, Neil Diamond, Neil Young, and Mr Bob Dylan (amongst others). 

The concert was filmed by Martin Scorsese (the same year that Taxi Driver was release) and it became a landmark documentary, considered one of the greatest concert documentaries ever made, called The Last Waltz.

This one concert -“The end of an era” was how many people referred to the close of 1976. The dreams of the 60s and early 70s had faded, and we were ready for a revelation, a revolt, a changing of the guard. Punk rock—and, later, hip-hop—wanted to give music and culture a good slap in the face. It felt like everyone wanted to break something. - performed and recorded just over a month before my birth -- was a singular moment in music and cultural history. Robbie Robertson, the lead guitarist and chief lyricist for The Band wrote, in 2016:

“The end of an era” was how many people referred to the close of 1976. The dreams of the 60s and early 70s had faded, and we were ready for a revelation, a revolt, a changing of the guard. Punk rock—and, later, hip-hop—wanted to give music and culture a good slap in the face. It felt like everyone wanted to break something.

The end of that era, that faded world, was what I was born into -- and its intense to think about, how my beginning was at the end of something.

I love the music of The Band, and I went to see a re-release of The Last Waltz with my friends in 2002. As mentioned, the concert took place in San Francisco but, about a month earlier, The Band appeared on Saturday Night Live and was introduced by the writer-actor Buck Henry who mentioned that their final show was coming up. 

What an amazing moment in culture -- and in the history of SNL, NYC, and the culture at large.

Scorsese & Lebowitz Talk "After Hours"

If you love the movies of Martin Scorsese and the comedy of Fran Lebowitz, then check out their conversation from 2022 about what might be Marty's least known NYC movie -- After Hours from 1985 (I blogged about it very briefly in 2008).

Even hardcore Scorsese fans might have missed this one -- unlike his crime movies or period pieces, this is a wacky surreal comedy about a guy who gets lost in Soho at night because of some broad.

That's it, that's the movie.

But it's still worth seeing -- even though you should expect it to be a typical Scorsese movies. I love it, not only because it's a Scorsese movie or an NYC movie but because it's a night movie, a movie set in world of NYC all its own.

As I said in my 2008 post, Mary made this movie after his early Golden Age (Mean Streets, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull) and before his platinum age (Goodfellas, The Departed, etc.). He had just made King of Comedy which was a big flop and he was on the outs with the big studios -- so he made this little independent movie (without regular star Robert De Niro) to show that he was still in the game, still a great talent.

And the rest his movie history. He ended up winning Best Director at the Cannes Film Festival for this and soon it was onto The Last Temptation of Christ, Goodfellas, etc. 

After Hours might not be Scorsese's best or most beloved movie, but it's certainly one of his best NYC movies and it's the movie that saved his career. 

All Hail Thelma Schoonmaker

The great NYC director Martine Scorsese has a new movie coming out called Killers of the Flower Moon. It's set in early 20th century Oklahoma and is about how the Osage tribe, which had become incredibly rich due to the vast amount of oil located on their reservation, were systematically murdered by white folks -- some of whom married into Osage families to get legal title to this land. It looks incredible with an amazing cast, and I can't wait to see it.

As a lifelong fan of Scorsese's movies, I realized something: as brilliant a director as he is, his movies probably wouldn't be as good if his editor wasn't Thelma Schoonmaker. She's edited all of his movies since Raging Bull and has won three Oscars for her work (for Raging Bull, The Aviator, and The Departed). The fights scenes in Bull, the pool playing shots in The Color of Money, the last day as a wiseguy sequence in Goodfellas -- all those and many more brilliant feats of editing in Scorsese movies -- is all because of her.  

So all hail Thelm Schoonmaker! And, to give you a sense of her great career, here are her three Oscar wins from 1981 to 2007.

Au Review Les Auteurs

New York City has produced a wide variety of cinematic auteurs -- Martin Scorsese, Brian De Palma, Woody Allen, Spike Lee, Sydney Lumet, Abel Ferrara, Whit Stillman, Nora Ephron, Hal Hartley, Jim Jarmusch, and many others. They all made classic films that captured the glamour and grit of NYC, their movies got under your skin and made you not only see the city with your eyes but feel it in your soul.

Some of these auteurs still working, some are dead, some are retired (willingly or not) but, as this article clearly asks, who are their successors? Where is the next generation of NYC-centric filmmakers who capture the grit, excitement, and unique spirit of this town?

Oh sure, there's more movies being made in this city than ever before -- but they feel like they could be set anywhere, the city is just a backdrop not a central character.

My theory: as the city has become more homogenized, more gentrified -- safer, richer, with lots chain stores and glass buildings that could built anywhere, as the city's soul has been bleached by money, NYC has become a better place to live and less interesting cinematic characters. And so the new generation of NYC auteurs have had, in a way, less to work with -- even if NYC is more populous and popular than ever before. 

"Pretend It's a City" on Netflix

If you were something less than a writer but more than a stand-up comedian you'd be Fran Lebowitz. 

Lebowitz has spent decades famously NOT writing and NOT performing stand up comedy but she's somehow managed to have a long career as a professional raconteur. She wrote two brilliant books of essays in the late 1970s and early 1980s (her book Metropolitan Life is one of the funniest things I've ever read) but since then she's made a career just talking in public as a professional crank.

Lots of people like to talk but few enjoyed being listened to more than Fran Lebowitz. 

Lebowitz is full of opinions about everything and is extremely funny. She "performs" i.e. talks at numerous staged events, on TV, and now on Netflix. She loves to talk about everything and anything but her main subject, the one she's most expert on, is New York City itself.

Her new documentary series is called Pretend It's a City, a seven part look at what's happened to NYC in the last several decades since Lebowitz moved here in the 1970s (it was shot before COVID-19 so it's what you might call a "normal times" look at the city). Her subjects are the evolution of NYC over the years, including episodes devoted to how life in the city is impacted culture, transportation, money, health, history, and libraries. 

It's a holistic look at a city that's almost impossible to ever fully understand. 

The series just dropped on Netflix and I haven't watched it yet but it appears to mainly involve Lebowitz walking around the city, speaking at recorded live events, and chatting with her sidekick, some guy named ... Martin Scorsese (and yes, he directed it). 

I can't wait to see it! Listen to her interview about on NPR here. 

The Timelessness of Edith Wharton & Dorothy Parker

Two NYC writers are celebrating milestones this year -- many decades after their deaths. Both are women, both were trailblazers in their times, and both are legends today.

First, Edith Wharton. One of the most successful writers of her era, Wharton was born in NYC in 1862 to a wealthy family. She was a debutante, loved traveling the world, and eventually settled in Paris. She never published anything until she was 40, but then published many acclaimed books like The House of Mirth and Summer, as well as novellas and short stories. But her masterpiece, her most acclaimed work, the one that has enshrined Wharton's legend, is The Age of Innocence. Celebrating its 100th birthday this year, the novel was published when Wharton was nearly 60 years old and won the Pulitzer Prize. The plot concerns a wealthy lawyer named Newbold Archer in 19th century NYC who is set to marry a kind, dull woman named May but finds himself falling in love with a woman named Ellen who is fleeing a bad marriage from a Polish count. This is probably the most powerful, painful story ever written about unfulfilled love and passion, of romantic roads not taken, of the choices we make and avoid. The book was turned into a big movie in 1993, directed by Martin Scorsese, who called it, believe it or not, one of the most violent stories he ever directed. You should read this great analysis of the novel, the film, and what it's like to read this 19th century story, written in the 20th century, now in the 21st century. 

Next, Dorothy Parker. She was an all-around writer -- essays, reporting, poetry, screenplays, plays, and short stories. Born in New Jersey in 1893, she lived and died in NYC in 1967. She wrote constantly, about everything, for everyone, and was a key member of the Alquonquin Roundtable. She had many wild love affairs and marriages, becoming a very notable wit -- "Men seldom make passes to girls who wear glasses" is probably her most famous quote. Among Parker's most notable works: she wrote the script for the original 1937 move A Star is Born, remade many times, most recently with Lady Gaga. She was also an activist: upon her death, she left all her money to the NAACP. And in death she kept being a riot: her ashes spent years being passed around from a crematorium to lawyers' offices to a filing cabinet in Baltimore. Now Dorothy Parker is back in NYC forever -- her ashes were recently interred in Woodlawn Cemetry in the Bronx, joining a prestigious group of people in the afterlife. (Welcome home, Dorothy!) A movie about Dorothy Parker was made in 1994 with Jennifer Jason Leigh playing the lady herself. It's very funny!

The Delusion of Art

Whenever I see a great or terrible work of art in any medium, a question recurs in my mind: "Why exactly did the artist want to create this? How and why did this come into the world?"

If you think about it, there's no compelling reason why any work of art should exist. As great as, say, Hamilton or the Mona Lisa or Game of Thrones are, they aren't curing diseases, providing shelter, winning wars, or generally improving the general welfare. They simply exist, for better or worse, to elevate culture.

A work of art is like a tree house: it has no real reason, no requirement to exist -- it doesn't fill any societal need at all -- except that someone at some point in time got the idea for it and then went about the difficult, delicate, sometimes exilerating, often frustrating work of creating it, hoping that people will like the finished product, and very often recruiting others along the way for assistance. Often, this assistance is financial.

One of my favorite books, as I've blogged about before, is Final Cut, about the movie debacle Heaven's Gate that destroyed United Artists. What's fascinating about it is that it's a keyhole view into the miserable, decidedly non-glamorous work of making a movie -- and how and why things can go so wrong. When you read it, you are mesmerized by the egomania and irresponsibility of the director, the bad decisions of the studio executives, the viciousness of the press, the careers and relationships made and destroyed, the complete delusion involved -- and for what? For a movie that, hopefully, a few people would pay a few bucks to see and spend a few hours at before going back about their lives. 

I just read a story about a massive Broadway musical debacle: three years ago, there was a new musical called Nerds about the early years of Bill Gates and Steve Jobs. Many thought it would be another Book of Mormon and it had been in the works for years -- work shopped, cast and rehearsed, and was just weeks away from debuting. And then? The money vanished, the show was cancelled, careers were deeply impacted -- and now there are lawsuits and all sorts of legal miseries. It's what happens when all of that effort fails and is for nought. It's about the dark side of creativity, the emptiness of failure. And for what? For something that didn't even need to exist in the first place.

As you read this story, you read about everything that goes into making not just this show but any piece of art: the hopes and dreams of the creators, their hard work to bring it into the world, the money and people who are needed to help it along the way -- and, most importantly, the delusion that everyone involved is required to have.

You have to be somewhat delusional to be an artist of any kind because, if you aren't, if you are strictly logical, no one would work on any show or big piece of art because ... why should anyone care? Why should this exist? Turning Victor Hugo's massive and depressing novel about failed French revolutionaries into a musical? Making a hip-hop musical about the Founding Fathers? Taking TS Eliot's book about cats and making that into a musical? The fact that people thought those were good ideas and turned them into brilliant shows still amazes me. Their creators were totally delusional enough to think that anyone would care to see these works of art -- and yet they were totally right. 

In the end, a successful show, a successful work of art, comes down to execution -- how it's actually made. If a tree house is well-built, it's a thrilling and fun place to go. No one can wait to clamour up it. But if it's badly made, it's creaky and quickly falls to earth and might really hurt someone. Then people avoid it like the plague. And you can never guess how well or badly something is executed until you try to do it.

If you think about it, turning George RR Martin's massive Song of Ice and Fire books into a TV series was a bold, really delusional thing to do -- the books are long, the plots complex and depressing, beloved characters are killed, they're kind of a mess. And yet ... it's one of the greatest shows ever, thanks to the people who created it, who executed it. Or this person, who makes sure that Scorsese's NYC movies get made just the way he wants.   

That's the mystery of art -- how a combination of pie-in-the-sky delusion and real-world hard work can either create something memorable or something that can lead to ruin. 

Travis Buys a Gun

Learn more about this classic scene, and others, in Martin Scorsese's 1976 masterpiece Taxi Driver. 

Interview: Greg Young of The Bowery Boys Podcast

Easily the best podcast about New York City history is The Bowery Boys, created and still hosted today by Greg Young and Tom Meyers. On each episode, these two uber-NYC enthusiasts deep-dive into so many aspects of this city's history: the people, neighborhoods, events, and eccentricities that have formed this most amazing of places. They go way back in history and make it relevant to life in the city today. The enthusiasm and joy that Greg and Tom bring to each episode is infectious, and the show has gone beyond the podcast into books and tours. 

It's brilliant and extremely fun, and I get excited every time I see a new episode pop up in my IPhone. 

The Bowery Boys, still going strong after more than a decade, is extremely popular with listeners from all over the world. Greg Young was kind enough to answer some questions for Mr NYC about the podcast, the city, its history, and his favorite NYC-related things.  

Tell us what inspired you and your co-host Tom Meyers to create The Bowery Boys podcast. What makes you keep doing it after 11 years? And why call is the "Bowery" boys? 

We started the podcast in 2007 as a way to keep us inspired about the city and to learn more about our neighborhood at the time (which was the Lower East Side). We have not been exhausted by the information we continue to find about the city, so we keep doing the show! The Bowery Boys were a 19th century gang that roamed the streets of Five Points, the notorious slum that once sat near Chinatown today. Although we like to also consider ourselves in the tradition of the ‘Bowery b’hoys’ and ‘Bowery g’hals’ of the 1830s and 40s, Irish-phrased slang for the new young Irish immigrant populations that were moving into lower Manhattan at the time.

While the podcast is about the history of NYC, it seems focused on how the history of the physical city intersects with its cultural and social history -- as well as its "mystique." Is this is a good way to describe the podcast or am I missing something? What else would you say the podcast is about? 

All of that – and more! I’d say the meaning of our show has evolved as well, especially now that we’ve done it for 11 years. Things we talked about at the beginning have changed or are now entirely gone. It’s interesting listening to our early shows just to compare how the city has developed – in some ways good, others bad. For instance, it’s almost amusing to hear our early shows on the High Line and the Meat-Packing District, recorded years before Hudson Yards project was dreamt up. 

How do you guys go about finding subjects to discuss and what is your research process like? How do you avoid being repetitive? 

Topics develop out of research or are inspired by current events or pop culture moments. For instance, our next show is on the history of the New York comedy scene, inspired by our affection for the The Marvelous Mrs Maisel on Amazon. And it’s okay to be a little repetitive, we have discovered. Sometimes it’s worthwhile to approach subjects again from a different point of view. We just recently did a show on Emma Lazarus, incorporating the history of the Statue of Liberty into that, but from the angle of immigration (a hot button issue these days). 

The podcast goes pretty far back into the history of NYC. Are you guys most interested in NYC before the 1950s and '60s or do you ever like to get into recent history? 

We do whatever interests us. When we do recent history, we like to interview people who remembered the history. Sometimes, due to time constraints, its just easier for us to talk about older topics but technically no decade is off limits. Our comedy show in two weeks will have a whole section about the 1990s. 

Do you have to fight the urge to make the podcast Manhattan-centric and is it harder to do episodes about the outer boroughs? 

It drives me crazy because I’d love to do more about the outer boroughs. But we have such a diverse audience at this point – with as many listeners outside New York City as in – and Manhattan tales are still the most popular. PLUS you can’t overlook how important New York (which was just Manhattan until 1898) is in American history. That said, there will be a LOT more Brooklyn and Queens in the coming year. 

Tell us about some of your favorite episodes and what made them so special? 

So many ways to answer this! We love our ghost story shows of course – we get to be melodramatic and over-produced – and we love our big infrastructure shows the most (like the subway, Robert Moses, Jane Jacobs, the grid plan). Personally speaking, I love the music shows. I come from a career in the music industry and was so thrilled to do shows on Billie Holiday and The Cotton Club that were brimming with music. 

What are some of your favorite pieces of NYC historical trivia -- and what things about the city's history do you think are important for anyone who lives here to know? 

I’m currently obsessed with the origins of place names. Find an interestingly names street and go down a rabbit hole of how it got its name. For instance, there are a row of streets in Greenpoint that are alphabetical north to south (Ash Street, Box Street, Clay Street etc.) and its all to do with the 19th century industry that once lined the waterfront there. 

Have you ever read The Power Broker and what are your thoughts on the legacy of Robert Moses? 

One of my favorite books of course! I’ll say this – our city could probably use a 1930s Robert Moses right about now, to erase and reverse some of the damage that 1950s and 60s Robert Moses did to this city. 

What are favorite NYC neighborhoods and why?

I have about a million, but I always suggest people visit Roosevelt Island. You’d be surprised how many native New Yorkers have never been. It’s got a ton of history and some excellent views. Plus – SMALLPOX HOSPITAL RUINS. 

What are some of your favorite NYC movies, TV shows, and novels? Which movies, in your opinion, show off the city the best or makes people really understand why life is (or was) like here? 

The aforementioned Mrs Maisel, Mad Men, The Knick – are all excellent portrayals of New York. The Alienist was often good, even though it was filmed in Europe. In terms of recent movies – believe it or not, Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them actually does an amazing job at re-imagining 1920s New York. Loved the Saiorse Ronan movie Brooklyn, the Oscar Isaac movies A Most Violent Year and Inside Llewyn Davis. I just recently re-watched Martin Scorsese’s The Age of Innocence and thought it really held up. 

As the city becomes more and more gentrified, do you think NYC is in danger of losing parts of its history or has historical preservation done enough to, well, preserve it? Tell us your thoughts about how you think NYC should keep its history while also moving into the future? 

New York City always needs to keep changing; it can’t afford to be a museum artifact like Paris or Rome. We’ve got excellent preservation laws in place and well-regarded community groups fighting to save those artifacts that are most endangered. But I do worry about classic mom-and-pop places disappearing with skyrocketing rents. There are some excellent ideas in play to help save them, but the best way to save those types of businesses is to actually frequent them, spend money at them. We can’t lament the loss of a classic diner or a deli if we’ve never bothered to step foot in it. 

What are your hopes for The Bowery Boys podcast moving forward? What does the future hold? 

More live shows, a new spin-off show for 2019, and another book! 

Finally, what do you love most about NYC? 

My answer changes every week. Last week’s answer – the beauty of snow falling in a brownstone neighborhood with a canopy of trees. The week before – my local bakery’s bagels. Next week’s answer – visiting the American Museum of Natural History on Wednesday to watch workers inflate the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade floats. 

Thanks Greg!

You can find podcast episodes and more info about where to download them here. 

Capital of Crime? It ain't NYC

"Rape! Murder! It's just a shot away! It's just a shot away!"

So begins the Rolling Stones' epic song "Gimme Shelter" from their 1969 album Let It Bleed. You've only heard it in every Martin Scorsese movie ever made, including probably Kundun. 

Anyway, if you listen to boring old men like Donald Trump or others, they'll try to convince you that America is more violent and crime ridden than ever -- when the truth is actually the opposite. Remember when Trump said of immigrants, "They're bringing crime. They're bringing drugs. They're rapists" -- turns out, the only ones importing crime to America these days are members of the Trump Administration. 

In NYC, the crime rate is at historic lows. In fact, this is how low it's gotten: this year, so far, there have been more murders in London than NYC. That's either an historic first or an historic first in a really, really, really long time (London is nearly 2000 years old, NYC only about 400). After all, there are lots more guns floating around the streets of NYC than London so what gives? Why has it become more violent now?

The answer: gangs. Violent, bloody, skinhead street gangs.

They've plagued Good Ol' London town for decades and now the mayhem they cause is worse than ever. Oh, but they're white. That's right, it's WHITE PEOPLE that are making London more crime ridden than ever. That sorta goes against the paranoid American grain of brown people being the root of all crime, here and everywhere. 

One thing that skinheads and violent people also love to do in England is "glassing" -- slamming a glass of beer over someone's head so that it shatters, the person is all bloody, and mayhem ensues. You saw it in the movie Trainspotting and it's apparently a favorite past-time of London pub culture. In fact, people who do it don't even go to jail! Imagine that in NYC -- you'd be in the pokey in no time.

Here are the lessons from the spike in crime in London vs. the historic lows in NYC: crime is not the sole province of brown people, poverty and cultural alienation of any stripe creates breeding grounds for crime anywhere and everywhere, and crime can be brought down anywhere and everywhere. Let's hope that happens in London too -- and stays true for NYC.

Pacino's Way

Al Pacino is one of the greatest actors in history and still going strong -- he has a new movie where he plays Joe Paterno premiering on HBO in April, and he's making his third movie with Robert De Niro -- also his first with Martin Scorsese -- due out in the next year or so. But he has made so many great movies over the last almost 50 years that the time has come for "retrospectives."

And there's going to be a huge one in NYC starting next week! 

If you love movies, love Pacino's acting, then you must go the Quad Cinema from March 14 to 30 where over 30 of his films -- from his 1970s classics to much more recent ones -- will be playing. All the greats, and some of the not so greats, are playing in it, and what's so cool is that Pacino himself was involved in putting this together!

All the movies you love him from are in this: The Godfathers, Scarface, Dog Day Afternoon, and Heat, among many, many others. Even better, a new movie and -- a documentary about the movie -- called Salome and Wilde Salome are premiering on March 30 to conclude this event.

Needless to say, many of Pacino's best movies are set in NYC (again, The Godfathers, Dog Day Afternoon, Serpico, Panic in Needle Park, Sea of Love, The Devil's Advocate, and Carlito's Way). But the Boy from the Bronx also made other cities look cool, bringing his tremendous talent and New York attitude to Los Angeles in Heat, to Baltimore in ... And Justice for All, Miami in Scarface and Any Given Sunday, and Alaska in Insomnia. The man just oozes this city.

No actor I can think of has ever uttered so many memorable lines in film. Among them:

"I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart. You broke my heart!"

"Attica! Attica! Attica!"

"You're out of order!"

"Say hello to ma' lil' friend!"

"Who-ahhh!"
"You want big time? You gonna die big time!"

"'Cause she's got a greeeattttttt ass!" 

And many more. Pacino is an interesting cat, always discovering himself in the characters he plays. You gotta read this interview he gave about this retrospective -- he really is Wild Pacino. 

Never Sleeping ...

Several years ago I interviewed the authors of a book called Nightshift NYC about the city's overnight workers. This was in follow-up to another post I wrote about the romantic allure of NYC in the dead of night. It's such a beautiful idea: the big, crazy, multitudinous city becoming, for several hours, a kind of ghost town -- a calm, mysterious, lightly-populated dreamscape. 

New York City at night ... it's a subculture all its own. Not only was a book written about it but even the great Martin Scorsese himself made a movie about it! 

And speaking of movies, I recently recorded a movie off Turner Classic Movies that aired at four in the morning (having a full-time job and being a full-time dad makes staying up that late to watch a movie rather impossible). But while the movie itself was "eh" I LOVED the intro that TCM played just before it started. The intro even has a its own name: "Open All Night."

This intro perfectly captures what I love about NYC at night: the jazzy, funky, romantic, mellow vibe and mood; the soft visuals, the casual attitude -- everything about it is just right. If you want to know what NYC overnight feels like to me, this perfectly (in an almost cliched way) brings it to life:

Oh, and speaking about NYC at night, recently the Jimmy Kimmel show was taping in Brooklyn, and the always entertaining Howard Stern made a memorable appearance. Late night NYC isn't always so quiet:

NYC at night ... it's always interesting. 

Michael Cimino, RIP

When did you last get excited by a movie? When was the last time a movie came out that made you want to see it - again and again and again?

I remember in the 1990s when Pulp Fiction hit theaters - it was so exciting, such daring filmmaking, such thrilling storytelling, that I went to see it four times in the theaters. Back then, movies seem to matter to people, personally, and they seemed to be important cultural touchstones as well. Movies were, dare I say it, important. They mattered. They lived.

Today? Movies suck - or mostly suck. These days, TV shows have the cultural edge that movies once enjoyed. For the most part, movies now are either one of two things: huge, cynical, money-hungry enterprises (think of the proliferation of "franchises" and the unending number of sequels) or calculated "Oscar-bait", movies designed to win awards and make some money but are otherwise forgettable. Movies don't excite anymore. They don't live inside us or the culture. The artistry of film making isn't moving forward, taking strides. It's stuck. And that's sad.

So how did we get here? It took a long time. While movies were burning up the culture in the 1970s through the 1990s, the seeds of their downfall were being planting at the same time, namely the era of blockbusters and sequels, along with the upwards spiral of production costs. But most of all came the huge costs of failure. When movies fail, they not only lose money but can destroy careers.

In 1978, a director named Michael Cimino made a movie called The Deer Hunter, about working class men and women who's lives are shattered by the Vietnam war. The movie was a huge success - it made lots of money and won several Oscars, including Best Picture. Two years later, Cimino produced his follow-up, Heaven's Gate, about 19th century land wars in the American West. This movie failed catastrophically, so much so that the studio that financed it went under. 

It was the first time that a movie's failure actually did something so devastating. Needless to say, the studios reacted accordingly. In the decades that followed, movies became increasingly "safer" so as not to offend audiences and critics. That's not to say, in the ensuing decades, that there still haven't been other huge failures as well as other exciting movies (like Pulp Fiction). But over time, safeness won over daring. The deary cinematic landscape we live in today is largely due to the failure of Heaven's Gate -- a movie that tried every bit to be as good as The Deer Hunter but wasn't.

Michael Cimino died last week, and his professional trajectory tells us a lot about the culture we live in today. After his once promising career was derailed, Cimino only directed a small number of movies, most of which critics and audiences ignored. This was, and is, a shame. A daring director was largely sidelined because of this (certainly huge) failure and the art of film, I think, suffered as a result.

Movies matter less now because directors are increasingly not the voices of their own films. When was the last time you saw a movie and really felt like you saw art being created? Yes, such film "auteurs" like Quentin Tarantino, Woody Allen, Martin Scorsese, Paul Thomas Anderson, and the Coen Brothers are still making movies - but for how much longer? And when they're gone, who will replace them? I have no idea. There seem to be no young auteurs on the horizon.

When you watch both The Deer Hunter and Heaven's Gate, putting aside both movies' virtues and flaws, what strikes you about them is that these are stories being told by a great directorial voice; that you are watching someone's singular vision spring to life; that these are movies that do what only movies can do best: tell a story through moving images, the director as storyteller. Like a painter using paints and brushes, like a writer using words and a pen, like a sculptor using stones and chisel, this is a director using camera and film to tell a story and imprint an artistic style on your consciousness. Cimino didn't need special effects, he didn't need clever dialogue, he didn't need fancy editing, he didn't need any visual or storytelling tricks - he was amazingly confident in the way that he simply pointed and moved the camera, coreographing his scenes with such skill, that his vision came across so strongly that you were left with an impression that lasted long after these movies were over. 

Having seen both films, I remember them - the storytelling is unconventional, the performances are bold, the camera work is thrilling and confident, a master clearly at work. Ask yourself this: when was the last time you saw movie where you felt like this? Probably a long time.

And as good as television is these days, it will never have the cinematic visual power of the movies. Television is still mostly a writer's medium with the director serving as the writer's handmaiden. That's fine! But movies are first and last a director's medium, and they are at their most powerful when the director's voice rings loudly.

In many ways, Cimino both exemplified everything that used to be great about movie making and was also indirectly responsible for its decline. His ego, apparently, got in the way of his work. But now that he has passed on, it's important to remember that filmmakers like him used to reign supreme in our culture and that hopefully, one day, movies will live again.

PS. You must read Final Cut by Steven Bach, generally considered the best book ever written about the movie business, which chronicles the turbulent history of Heaven's Gate. It paints Cimino in a very unflattering light but, after reading it, you'll understand how movies are what they are today. You can find the documentary based on the book at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EyeOmPMHRYg.

PPS. Cimino was a New Yorker, originally from Long Island, but he got his start working in advertising in NYC in the Mad Men era of the 1960s.

"Taxi Driver" @ 40

"Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets."  

No, this wasn't something said by a Donald Trump supporter. It was a line memorably uttered by the great actor Robert De Niro in the 1976 movie Taxi Driver which turns 40 years old this year. If you've never seen it, Taxi Driver is about a mysterious cabbie named Travis Bickle who roams a nightmarish NYC, lonely, detached, adrift in a chaotic world that he doesn't understand and hates. Eventually he becomes a gun-totting vigilante and unleashes his fury. It's a horrifying and amazing film to watch. 

Taxi Driver was a quintessential example of the 1970s New Hollywood ethos: brutal, profane, centering on an "anti-hero," and totally unsentimental. It's also, in many ways, a document about NYC in the mid-1970s: dirty, crime-ridden, and failing. The film was directed by Martin Scorsese, right after his earlier films "Mean Streets" and "Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore", and it rocketed him into the leagues of major American directors, paving his way to legendary status. The cast is also notable: besides De Niro, the film stars a pre-"Moonlighting" Cybil Shepherd, Harvey Keitel, a very young Jodie Foster, and, of all people, a frizzy haired Albert Brooks providing some much needed comic relief. Like all Scorsese films, it's brilliantly directed and has first-rate performances.
 
Looking at Taxi Driver today, it seems both very dated and totally relevant. Dated, because it's about an NYC that doesn't exist anymore. Watching the film, in an NYC where broom closets cost millions of dollars, is like looking at a world that is both familiar and distant, recognizable and unrecognizable, a friend from the past who has aged and whose body has changed (either really well or really badly). Yet, it's more relevant than ever because it's about rage, alienation, mistrust, a world gone mad, and the temporary but very real allure of senseless violence. Look at our current political climate. Can anyone possibly argue that this atmosphere of anger isn't even more real and toxic today? Is rage not a constant in American life today? Taxi Driver was prophetic.  

This fascinating oral history tells the story of how Taxi Driver was made and about the impact it left on America and American film culture. Forty years on, and so much and so little has changed.

TV on the Movies

This is a must read: Vanity Fair culture critic James Wolcott makes a very convincing case that today, in the second decade of the 21st century, TV shows are better than movies. In terms of quality, originality, writing, acting, excitement -- Wolcott says TV is whipping the movies' tuchus.

And I agree. 

Very rarely these days do I get excited about a movie. I don't care for the big Twilight/Harry Potter/Hunger Game "event" movies. They're all noise and action without really interesting plots or characters. Plus, they're all skewed to teenage girls which, at last check, I'm not. I'm more interested in movies by really great directors with good stories and characters but, honestly, most of our great directors aren't making such great movies these days. 

To whit: with the exception of Midnight in Paris last year, Woody Allen hasn't made an exciting movie in a long time. Scorsese used to make exciting movies but they have become less so over time (Goodfellas? Exciting! Hugo? Uh....). Robert Altman is sadly dead. Spike Jonze and David Russell make very few films. I still get excited whenever Quentin Tarantino makes a movie but he seems only to make one every five or six years. And don't get me started on Cameron Crowe and James L. Brooks: Say Anything ..., Almost Famous, Terms of Endearment and Broadcast News are some of my favorites ever. But their most recent movies have been unwatchable. It's like watching great athletes who used to win every competition come in last. 

TV, however, has been an autre histoire. 

In the last ten years there have been some TV shows that have gotten me crazy excited: The Sopranos, Six Feet Under, Rescue Me, The Wire, True Blood, Lost, 30 Rock, The Office, Breaking Bad, Boardwalk Empire, Downton Abbey, Portlandia, Modern Family and lots of others -- really great shows with complex characters, interesting stories, brilliant film making, and amazing production values. And right now I salivate (well, almost) over Game of Thrones and Mad Men. The fact that they're on back to back on the same nights has sent me into geeky heaven. (Heck, even Saturday Night Live is funny again for the first time in 20 years.) 

I'm stunned at the quality of these shows and amazed at how much I'd rather stay at home and watch them (on TV or Netflix) instead of schlepping to the movies and plunk down ten bucks -- only to sit next to or behind douches who talk during the movie or have their cell phones go off. Increasingly, not only are the movies bad but the movie going experience has gotten expensive and annoying.

Plus, snobs who used to ignore TV seem to be ignoring the movies these days. 

Wolcott writes: "Even in cine-mad Manhattan, where the admonitory ghost of Susan Sontag haunts theaters by night, the new movie that everybody’s talking about is being talked about by a shrinking number of everybodies. It’s seldom the presiding topic of cocktail chat and intellectual quarrel, as it was when critic Pauline Kael led the wagon train. (Her successors at The New Yorker, David Denby and Anthony Lane, might as well be tinkling the piano in the hotel lobby for all the commotion they create.)" He also makes the point that it's pretty sad when a cliched, plodding movie like Bridesmaids is acclaimed as one of the best comedies of the year. 

I couldn't even get through it. It just wasn't that funny. 

Wolcott also says Reese Witherspoon is an example of what has happened not only to movies but movie stars: she used to give great performances in fun or excellent movies like Legally Blonde and Walk the Line. Now she's stuck in drivel like This Means War. When was the last time Tom Cruise had a good movie? He used to have one every year. Now everyone talks about Mad Men's Jon Hamm and Tom Cruise is better known for his weird Scientology worship these days. 

Wolcott even asks a great rhetorical question: "Does anyone think The Artist is better than Mad Men?"

Hear hear. 

We really do seem to be living in a golden age of TV and a dark ages of movies. Maybe this will change. But probably not for a while. Movies must respond to the demands of moviegoers -- who are increasingly kids and dopes who care more about spectacle than story. Meanwhile, as TV has gotten more niche driven and cable has found a business model to thrive, there are more outlets for original, daring stuff. Ultimately, like everything, it comes down to money: if the studios can only make money with big noisy junk and TV can make money producing quality -- guess what? That's what you're gonna see!

I'm a culture geek and I want movies and TV to be equally good and compelling. Hopefully, some day, a business model will emerge where great movies can be produced again. But as of now, the David of the small screen has conquered the Goliath of the big screen.  

Woody and Marty get Nominated

Drumroll ... drumroll ... drumroll ... 

Voice of God Announcer:

Woody Allen. Martin Scorsese.

Two legendary movie directors. 

Two great New Yorkers. 

Both past recipients of the Academy Award for Best Director. 

Now both nominated in the same category again -- this time pitted against each other for the ultimate prize.

Who will win? Who will walk off with the trophy?

Will it be Woody?  

Will it be Marty?

Or will it be someone else?

Find out this February at the 84th Annual Academy Awards!

Hollywood on the Hudson

Increasingly, New York City is turning into one giant movie and TV set. According to this article, there are now 23 prime time TV series being filmed in our fair city. Can you believe that? I didn't even there were 23 scripted shows left on prime time TV!

And here's where it gets weird: you'd think that all the shows and movies being shot here are set in NYC. But they're not! The Good Wife shoots here but is set in Chicago. The Oscar-winning Scorsese movie The Departed was mostly filmed here but was set in Boston. And believe this if you can but the mini-series of Mildred Pierce was shot here and New York was made to substitute for Los Angeles. Haha! Take that LA!

Increasingly, shows like Friends and Seinfeld that were set in NYC but shot in LA are a thing of the past. And that's a great thing too because nothing drove me more crazy than seeing movies and TV shows set in NYC but that looked and felt nothing like the real city. There's a great and very weird show on FX called Louie about the moron comic Louie CK that's set in NYC and it is the most realistic, NYC-feeling show I've seen since Law and Order. 

While it's great that so many productions are set here, the only problem is that they're taking up a lot of space in a city that has little to spare. Streets and sidewalks get blocked off and people are inconvenienced. But if, in these hard times, its pushing cash into the economy than we can't complain.

Raging Bull

Martin Scorsese is, without a doubt, one of the greatest filmmakers ever. A New York boy, he's made many movies set in his hometown. His 1980s classic Raging Bull may very well be his best film and it was considered by many critics the single best movie of the 1980s.

The story of Jake LaMotta, a boxer with more rage than Mike Tyson ever had, is hard to describe. He was a great boxer, a tragic figure, and a fascinating character. He was proof that human beings are, despite millions of years of evolution, despite all our culture, education, and pretenses to the contrary, animals. Jake LaMotta's rage and extreme behavior showed how ugly and beautiful we all can be, and his story remains haunting. That his hard life became the basis for this film is probably its most redemptive quality. And it gave Robert DeNiro the role of his lifetime.

You should read this fascinating article about how this movie came to be made. It not only redeemed LaMotta but also Scorsese, showing that no one is beyond redemption.