Inside Llewyn Davis: The Next Great NYC Movie

Setting a movie in NYC has become so common that it's almost boring. Not that NYC is boring but, as a cinematic milieu, it has become so cliche that I roll my eyes whenever I see another movie set here. Even Woody Allen, the quintessential New York filmmaker, has started making his movies in other places, and it seems to have made his movies better. If you're gonna make a movie set in NYC these days, there needs to be a damn good reason.

Well, leave it to the Coen Brothers to find one.

Although based in NYC, these great filmmakers are originally from Minnesota, and they set their movies in a variety of locales (like Raising Arizona, Fargo, the noiry Los Angeles of The Big Lebowski, just to name a very few). But their most recent film -- Inside Llewyn Davis, criminally overlooked at the recent Academy Awards -- is a total New York movie, and a great one at that. Here's what it takes to make a great NYC these days (according to the high rigorous standards of Mr NYC):

1. Time and Place. Inside Llewyn Davis takes place during the winter of 1961, mostly in Greenwich Village, the Upper West Side, and a little bit in Queens (there's also a subplot with a road trip to Chicago but that's almost a different movie). The Coens do an amazing job of showing how the streets, buildings, and storefronts of these neighborhoods, and, best of all, the subway in really looked in 1961. Back then, these neighborhoods were working class, bordering on poor, and were drab and run-down. The subway was even dirtier than it is now. You see the seeds of the decay that would later be exacerbated by the 1970s financial crises, before the city was "reborn" in the 1990s. This is not a nostalgic, romantic, paper-dollish look at working class NYC in 1961. Watching this movie, you feel like you've been transported back to a specific time and place in NYC, and it makes you see the city again for the first time.

2. Community: Inside Llewyn Davis is set in the folk music scene that sprouted in Greenwich Village in the late 1950s, then culminated in the 1960s with the explosion of Bob Dylan (this film is set roughly a week before Dylan first performed at the Greenwich Village club the Gaslight). Like the 1920s American ex-patriot writers in Paris, or Andy Warhol's Factory later in the 1960s, the downtown folk music scene of the late '50s, early '60s has now become legendary, almost mythical, with singer-songwriters like Dylan, Joni Mitchell, John Baez, and Peter, Paul and Mary all getting their starts there. This film shows how hard making a career in folk music was and how, for many, fame and fortune eluded them. This film not only takes you back to NYC at a special time and place but also into a world who legacy continues to this day.

3. Characters: Llewyn Davis is based on the life of Dave Van Ronk, who was a popular Greenwich Village folk singer during this time. Van Ronk was an early influence and friend to Bob Dylan and, although he never achieved that level of fame, he left an amazing legacy and created some great music that is played throughout the movie (including the song "Hang me oh hang me" posted below). Van Ronk's real life was a little different from Llewyn Davis (he wasn't a couch surfer, he was married, and he didn't knock up his friends' wives, for example) but, when he died in 2002, he seemed fated for obscurity. However, the 2005 book about him, The Mayor of MacDougal Street, and now this film, have given Van Ronk, a great New York character, his due.

4. "No fakery": as I indicated before, Inside Llewyn Davis is not a nostalgic look at 1961 NYC or the folk music scene. It is, like many Coen Brothers flicks, totally unsentimental, almost brutal in its outlook. This is not a film that shouts "It was so much better then!" Instead, it aims to show you what the city and this community were like, warts and all. You get a feeling that you are watching real people living their day-to-day lives, and they are confronting problems that are recognizable to people today. While the movie is set in the past, it's the present for them. Most importantly, even though it's a period piece, there aren't lots of references to the fact that it's 1961 (except for one very funny scene where Llewyn Davis and two other singers croon a pop balled called "Please Mr Kennedy Don't Shoot Me Into Outer Space"). Instead, the film takes for granted that you know what we going on back then -- this a story about people, not a history lesson.

So that's my criteria for making a great NYC movie these day: a story rooted in a specific time,  place, and community in the city without either being self-conscience or displaying any cheap nostalgia. Inside Llewyn Davis does this beautifully, it's a great movie, and deserves to ranked with the great NYC movies of all time.

Classic Mr NYC

Recently I re-watched the Coen Brothers' great 2013 movie Inside Llewyn Davis. Oh, how I love this flick!

My original post was an examination of why this is a great NYC movie. (It still is, by the way.) But what I didn't fully appreciate at the time was and is how radical, how subversive, how daring this movie is; how it completely shatters all conventions and norms of storytelling -- it does all the things you're not supposed to do in a movie, it thumbs its nose at "the rules" of a conventional plot and character development, but it does it so seamlessly, so straightforwardly, that you don't notice.

In short, Inside Llewyn Davis is about a folk singer whose career is going nowhere fast. In fact, this is a story about failure. That's it. It's not a tragedy -- Llewyn doesn't die, doesn't go to jail, doesn't lose everything (because he has almost nothing to begin with), doesn't gain the world only to lose his soul, etc. etc., cliche, cliche. No. It's just about a guy who tries and fails, who attempts to succeed and doesn't. He's an honest failure but a failure nonetheless. He doesn't go anywhere, his future is empty. The end.

Why? Because he's a bad guy? Not really. He's not a great guy (he bangs other guy's wives and has a temper problem) but, when he does wrong, he tries to make it right. So he's flawed but not irredeemable. Is he untalented? Not at all, in fact, he's a beautiful singer -- but he's not GREAT. His fate is sealed not because he does anything wrong but because, as he's told by a music producer at one point, there's just not "a lot of money here."

This is one of the only movies, only stories, I've seen that's about how and why people fail. About how random and how unpredictable failure and success is -- and how failure happens just because you fall a little short. We see this in elections all the time -- a few votes short here and there, and dreams of a political career, of public service, are dashed (often permanently so). Score just a little bit below the "mean" or whatever it is on a standardized test, and forget about getting into college or grad school, with all the career implications that implies. This movie shows how careers and lives are forever altered -- often shattered -- just because the powers that be, the umpires of life, the "means", the beancounters, the scorekeepers, the gatekeepers to the future, find you wanting and ... slam the gate. 

This doesn't happen because you're a bad person or a good person. It happens just because something, like money or a few votes or a few points or something, "isn't here."

I've been there. You've been there. We've all been there. And where are our movies? Inside Llewyn Davis is one of the precious few.

And does Llewyn learn anything from his failure? Does he grow as a person? Does he, as the storytelling Gods tell us he's supposed to, "arc." No! Why would he? It's not his character flaws that lead to his failure. His failure happens ... just because ...

You should read this article from a few years ago that brillantly sums up this movie and its message -- or lack thereof -- about failure. 

At the very end of the movie, Llewyn plays his final set at a nightclub and then walks off and the next act is a guy named Bob Dylan. Llewyn goes into an alley and gets beaten up. And this is the point -- one will go onto make music history and win the Nobel Prize while the other ... well, we don't know what happens to him in the long run. We check out on Llewyn at this point. After all, he's a failure, he has no future, he's destined to be forgotten, so we take our leave. 

This is what failure, ultimately, is -- nothing. A void. A blank page. An empty space. A non-memory. Nada zilch zero. 

And that's why this is probably the best movie about failure ever made.

More Coup Crap

So this GOP power grab in the New York State Senate is still making news. This is really a comedy-tragedy, a hypocritical circus that shows you how ridiculous and depraved politics in this state has become -- and how our politicians have the tinniest of tin ears.

First, the indicated assaulter Hiram Monserrate, one of the traitorous Democrats who helped the Republicans engineer this coup, said this afternoon “I made a bold decision to support change and reform, but I also understand that that change and reform is only effective when we ensure participation by both parties ...”

Let's get this straight: this criminal is advocating reform and, after throwing the political balance in this state into disarray, is calling for unity? He's got some balls! I guess when you're a psychopath like this guy clearly is, being a hypocrite is no big deal. I'm sure he sleeps well at night though.

But Hiram is small change compared to this Pedro Espada guy. This other great "reformer" is the epitome of how corrupt and foul Albany is. Jim Dwyer in the New York Times today writes about how Espada has literally stolen food from poor people to give to his cronies, has been fined over $60,000 for campaign violations, and doesn't even live in the Bronx district he's suppose to represent! He doesn't even have an office in his own district!

And now he's the new State Senate President! That means if Paterson leaves the state or has a heart attack or something, this sleaze is the Governor!

Wow. You can't make this stuff up.

If you ever saw that great show The Wire, you might remember the corrupt Senator Clay Davis. But truth is stranger than fiction and these two real life corrupt State Senators make the fictional Clay Davis look like a Boy Scout. At least Clay Davis was entertaining and wickedly smart -- these guys are just pure, miserable slime and, if you just hear what they say, are freaking stupid as well.

It's a shame that the greatest city in the world is forced to reside in one of the scummiest states in this fine Union. **Sigh**

Review: "God of Carnage"

Recently I saw the hit Broadway play God of Carnage by French playwright Yasmina Reza, starring Hope Davis, Jeff Daniels, Marica Gay Harden, and James Gandolfini. Davis/Daniels and Harden/Gandolfini play married couples brought together after the son of one couple has wacked two teeth out of the son of the other in a school yard fight. Set in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, the action takes place over 90 uninterrupted minutes in the living room of Harden and Gandolfini's home as the couple try to resolve the issue -- and it goes wayyyyyy down hill from there.

There's no real story in this play. It's all character and incident and action and reaction. A true comedy of errors. There's lots of one liners, gags, and bizarre situations that fuels the drama to its strange conclusion. The play starts with the couple being agreeable and polite to each other but then misunderstandings and old resentments and problems in both marriages surface and everything devolves into chaos. The point of the play is that no matter how civilized we human beings try to be, no matter the institutions we create, no matter if we marry or have children, we are all, at the end of the days, selfish animals driven by primordial instincts. We all worship at the alter of a god of carnage, praying to our own savage needs.

With its high profile cast and multiple awards, God of Carnage has received lots of attention and critical praise. I've probably never known so much about a show before seeing it. It was a lot of fun and I liked it a lot and performances are, as to be expected, amazing. Daniels is pitch-perfect as an insufferable Yuppie lawyer, Hope Davis is tragic as his miserable wife (who projectile vomits during the show), and Jame Gandolfini is hilarious as the husband of the kid who got beaten up and finds his world spinning out of control. But the real scene stealer is Marcia Gay Harden (who won a Tony for her performance) as Gandolfini's wife who is trying to hold the situation together -- and failing miserably. Yasmina Reza's creates wonderfully dimensional characters and the fast-pacing action makes for a big emotional roller coaster. If you want a theater experience that's really an experience, see God of Carnage.

Remembering "Six Degrees" (2006-2007)

Twenty-years ago, before they'd be on Furious, Hope Davis and Campbell Scott appeared together on another show, the short-lived Six Degrees.

Based on the premise first introduced in Six Degrees of Seperation, it's about six different New Yorkers whose lives intersect in various odd ways. They are: Carlos, a public defender struggling with his job; Mae, a recent NYC-transplant with a mysterious past; Laura, an interior designer mourning her husband killed in Iraq (very 2006); Damien, a limo driver and ex-con, trying to live a straight-edge life; Whitney, a high-powered PR woman, Laura's best friend, and with a cheating finance; and Steven, a photographer who just came back to town and who is struggling to reestablish a relationship with his ex-wife and son.

If you're an NYC-junky, this show was for you. But with a premise like this, it needed to be great and it just ... wasn't. It was okay. The main problem is that for a show centered around six people, they needed to be more interesting and their problems needed to be more dramatic. They weren't. The premise was cool but sadly the show didn't really make it compelling. The characters and their storylines were rather boring.

So why am I remembering it?

Well, obviously, because it was a very intensely NYC-show and, naturally, it caught my interesting. Even though the show's drama was underwhelming, it was one of the few shows that really made you feel like you were in the city, and that was unusual (outside of the Law & Order franchise).

Also, it had a great cast: the aforementioned Campbell Scott, Hope Davis, along with Bridget Moynahan (someone also nice to look at) as well as Erika Christiansen (who had been really good in Traffic a few years earlier), and other. They'd all go on to do better stuff.

Another thing is a little more personal: first, one of the creators was a guy named Raven Metzner who I actually went to school with. I also remember one day, leaving my house and walking to work, when I walked by this show being shot on the street early one morning -- and I saw Hope Davis and Bridget drinking coffee and waiting to shoot between setups.

Finally, another reason I remember this odd, long-gone and forgotten show: besides the fact that this show came out preceisely 20 years go, but it was also on just before I started this blog and moved in with my girlfriend.

Six Degrees ran for a few episodes between September and November of 2006, then was pulled from ABC's schedule, then came back in March 2007 and was finally cancelled for good (in fact its last episode airs on March 30, 2007, three days after this blog began). So I remember it here not because it was a great show but because it was truly NYC show and that it was on during an inflection point in my life -- and this was a show all about that!

Best Movie of the Decade: "Inside Llewyn Davis"

As the second decade of the 21st century ticks to a close, lots of 10 Best of the Decade lists are being crafted (Top 10 Best movies, TV shows, albums, tech innovations, etc). And if you're following movies this holiday season, then there's one actor, one mug, you can't escape: Adam Driver, who first appeared on the great NYC-centered show Girls in 2012 and is now starring in one movie after the other (just this fall, he has The Report, Marriage Story, and the next Star Wars movie). 

But back in 2013, he still just "that guy from Girls", and one of his first movies was a small part in the brilliant Coen Brothers' Inside Llewyn Davis about a failed folk singer in 1961 Greenwich Village. (The titular character is played by Oscar Isaac who went on to reteam with Driver in the Star Wars flicks.)

I've blogged extensively about this movie, about how subversive and beautiful and dark it is, about how it's a great NYC movie but also how it also stands everything about American movie making on its head. According to many critics, it's one of the best movies of the entire decade -- and it's certainly mine.

There's one scene in the movie that makes it transcend from merely good to truly great (this critic even says its the best scene in any movie in the entire decade): when Llewyn auditions for the music producer Bud Grossman. Everything about the scene is perfect: Llweyn and Grossman sitting across from each other on the vast floor of a nightclub, resembling not a producer and an artist but an interrogator and a hostage or a jailer and a prisoner, chairs stacked on tables in the background, morning sunlight inappropriately sneaking in. There's a sense of foreboding and doom in the entire mise en scene, the darkness that is the folk singer's life drowning out any light of a better future. Hoping to get Grossman to represent and promote his career, Llewyn sings his heart out, giving a moving and deep performance, leaving his entire soul on the shiny and impersonal club floor. When he's done, a quiet moment ensues, Grossman looking at him tentatively, before delivering the devastating verdict, the career death sentence: "I don't see a lot of money here." Grossman gives Llewyn some unhelpful advice about staying out of the sun and joining a trio before Llewyn leaves, his hopes blown out casually and easily like the tiny flames of birthday candles. 

This scene shows the wafer thin line that exists between success and failure, between hope and devastation, between dreams and reality. It demonstrates the capriciousness of life, the chaos we all live in and try to escape. And it does it brutally and unsentimentally but also beautiful. Truly classic.

Bob Dylan: Live from Riverside Church -- July 29, 1961

There's a new movie that's just come out called A Complete Unknown about Bob Dylan's early years in NYC. A Minnesota transplant, he hit the Greenwich Village club scene in 1961, and within a couple of years he was famous, his folk songs becoming an indeliable part of American culture. 

During those early days in NYC, Dylan was gigging everywhere he could, most famously at the Gaslight Cafe in the Village. But his first known broadcasting gig happened on July 29, 1961 -- just six months after he'd moved to NYC -- at Riverside Church in Morningside Heights. He was one of several singers to perform at the Riverside Church Hootenanny, and it was broadcast on the church's radio station WRVR 106.7 (today it's the much listened to Lite FM).

Below is a segment of that broadcast featuring young "Bobby" and you can find the set list of the songs he sang here. It was also at this event where Dylan met Suzy Rutolo who would become his girlfriend and creative muse -- they would be together when Dylan began to produce his most famous, legendary works. And even though Dylan in NYC in the early 1960s is most commonly associated with Greenwich Village (as the Bowery Boys have recently done an episode about), it was actually uptown -- in the same neighborhood that produced George Carlin, Fiona Apple and Mr NYC -- that the first step in the legendary journey of Bob Dylan through American culture was taken. 

P.S. Riverside Church means a lot to me -- it's right near where I grew up, it's where I went to nursery school and where I eventually got married. So it's really cool to find out what an important piece it played in both the lives of Bob Dylan and yours truly.

P.P.S. And while we're thinking about Bob Dylan, let's not forget about Llewyn Davis because, remember, for every Bob there's a lot more Lleweyns. In fact, you might say the Mr NYC is the Llewyn Davis of NYC bloggers!

Interview: Jesse Thorn of Maximum Fun and "Bullseye"

If you're a pop culture and public radio fan like me, then you must check out "Bullseye", the "show about things that are awesome." Each week, host Jesse Thorn interviews artists and entertainers, and gets their perspectives their lives and careers, as well as about creating the music, art, movies, TV shows, and comedy that we all love. Jesse is also the creator of the great website Maximum Fun, a blog full of podcasts, events info, and forums that create a great community for all pop culture fans. You might call Jesse the great synthesizer of American pop culture.

Here in New York City, you can catch "Bullseye" on Saturdays at 1 PM on 820 AM and Sundays at 6 PM on 93.9 FM.

Jesse was kind enough to answer a few questions for Mr NYC readers about his show, his website, and what he loves about pop culture. 

What made you such a devoted pop culture junkie and how did it lead to the creation Maximum Fun? 

I've always loved culture - reading, movies, sports, television. Just as I was becoming a teenager, the Internet opened up a whole new world. Not just of culture to consumers, but of opportunities to discern or dive deep. Once upon a time you had a couple magazines and maybe your local alt-weekly, and all of a sudden you had access to everything. Think of how significant just IMDB's emergence is, or AllMusic.com.

So "Bullseye" (which used to be called "The Sound of Young America") grew up as a sort of celebration of stuff that I and we thought were great but weren't getting the attention they should. MaximumFun.org grew out of that. 

What inspired you to create your show Bullseye and how did you get it on the radio?

I heard someone on the college radio station, and thought they weren't doing that great of a job. I sort of figured, "I could do that." I went and did the station tour, and I was surprised that the equipment was so relatively uncomplicated. So I just signed up. You had to volunteer a certain number of hours and you had to take a class. Once I'd done that, I recruited my two funniest friends and started a show. It's gone through a few iterations, but it's been one, continuous almost-15-year evolution. 

Your show takes a very comprehensive look at "what's good in popular culture" -- what do you define as good? 

It's very subjective, and I don't pretend otherwise. All matters of taste are culturally relative, and our show is no different. But I do put a lot of effort into making the content on the show stuff that I think is recommendable, stuff that I believe in.

I try to focus on things that are intended as art, without necessarily being exclusive of commerce. And I try to give a little extra attention to things that are fun, because I think stuff that's enjoyable tends to be overlooked a bit by the people who give out seals of approval for "quality" culture. 

You seem especially interested in music and comedy.  Who and what are some of your favorite bands, artists, and comedians? 

Geez. Favorite music artists ever... let's say Sly Stone, Curtis Mayfield, Nina Simone, Outkast, The Staple Singers. That's off the top of my head. Lately I've been listening to Steve Reich a lot, so maybe my tastes are about to take a turn for the white :).

In terms of stand-ups... I love Maria Bamford, Bill Burr, Chris Rock, Andy Kindler. A million others, but let's leave it there. I think Chris Rock's "Bring the Pain" and "Bigger and Blacker" and John Leguizamo's "Mambo Mouth" really affected me a lot as a kid. And Whoopi Goldberg's Broadway show, which I had recorded on cassette from a library LP.

And movies, TV shows, etc? 

Favorite movies ever are probably Rushmore, A Thousand Clowns and Pee-Wee's Big Adventure. That's sort of about where they caught me in life, I think. Pee-Wee was (and is) very important to me and my taste. The Simpsons, obviously. And Python - the movies especially because I'm too young to have watched the show on PBS like some folks did. In high school, Newsradio and Seinfeld. Later on, in college, Tenacious D and Mr. Show and The Larry Sanders Show. The Wire. 30 Rock. 

When you interview artists, you seem very interested in how their lives influenced and affected their careers but not in a gossipy way. What's the key to giving a respectful but revealing interview? 

I'm honestly not that interested in artist's personal lives, except as they intersect their work. They're on the show because their work is special. I invite people on the show because I care about and respect their work, and talk to them in a way that reflects that. But I do ask them about their work and life, and ask them real questions. So that hopefully leads to some insight.

You did a very profound interview with actor Rick Moranis last year about his career and his decision to leave show business to raise his family after his wife's death. How were you able to get him to talk to you? 

We asked. I mean, he had an album out, he did other interviews, as well.

Almost nobody goes into show business to be interviewed. Relatively few are genuine recluses, but most people would choose not to spend time doing press if they had the choice - why talk about your work when you can make it? But in this business, it's a trade - you do press, people hear about your thing, they check it out, you get paid to make more work. People offer me their time, I offer them a platform. Hopefully it's pleasant for all involved.

With Moranis, he choose to do much less work, for very admirable reasons - his wife died and he needed to raise his kids. So he wasn't avoiding being interviewed, he just didn't have stuff to promote, and thus had to reason to engage in that transaction. But he cut this record, and was proud of it, and wanted people to know about it.

The two people I've had on the show who genuinely were "gets," folks who don't do interviews, were the musicians Betty Davis and Bill Withers. Both had been burned pretty badly by the music industry, and had chosen to step away from it. Ms. Davis hadn't even gotten her ASCAP checks for many years until a fan tracked her down. Both were challenging interviews, but with great artists like that, it was an honor to get to talk to them.

Rick is a dad, you're a dad, I'm a dad: what insights did you get from that interview about work and family?  

It's OK to be a decent human being in the entertainment industry. You don't have to put yourself at the center of everything just because that's what the industry seems to ask you to do.

Are there any other interviews you've done that you're especially fond of or were surprising? 

One of the early visits with one of my all-time favorite guests, Andrew WK comes to mind. My youngest brother was about 8 or 9, and had started a band. Andrew listened to his song, and I remember he asked if it was OK with my brother if he (Andrew) learned something from him. It was really touching. Andrew's been on the show many times since, and came to MaxFunCon one year. He's just a really good-hearted guy who has worked his butt off to make his own crazy way of being in the world work for him as a life, and it's an inspiration to me.

Tell us, where do Bullseye and Maximum Fun go from here? 

Space. 

Thanks Jesse!

Bob Dylan in NYC

Newly-minted Nobel laureate Bob Dylan -- the first American to win the literature prize in more than two decades and the first member of a super-group to be so honored -- was born and raised in Minnesota. But it was here in NYC, Greenwich Village 1961 specifically, where Dylan's genius first revealed itself to the world.

Working the downtown clubs, singing in venues all over town, Dylan's brilliant songs and lyrics caught fire with a new generation that had just elected its first president born in the 20th century, a spiritually hungry generation that had survived the worst war in history and the conservative era of the 1950s. 

For the next fifty-plus years, Dylan would become more than just a popular singer/songwriter -- his music and lyrics would become part of the American conscious for late-20th/early-21st century, a communal reference point for the existential dilemma of a nation of plenty and a nation of tumult. Dylan didn't give us easy answers -- or any answers at all. Instead he asked us questions, hard questions, and dared us to be brave enough to answer them for ourselves.

"How does it feel, how does it feel?
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone"

Questioning, searching, longing, yearning, giving in, giving up, hoping, hating, loving, wondering -- it's all there in Dylan's lyrics, the jumble of emotions and thoughts, the emotive and repressed feelings that we all have at the same time, in various shades, in various ways. And it's precisely because it's so hard to express them that Dylan -- through his poetic voice -- expressed them for us in language both economical and powerful, haunting and familiar. He took the complicated frustrations of this complicated nation and made them clear:

 Come senators, congressmen please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside and it's ragin'
It'll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the times they are a' changin'!

If you're interested in the early days of Dylan, you must read this recent New York Times article but you should also read Dave Van Ronk's great book The Mayor of MacDougal Street about the early 1960s Greenwich Village folk scene that Dylan emerged from. (Van Ronk was a friend of Dylan's and an early influence -- and Van Ronk is immortalized in the great Coen Brothers movie Inside Llewyn Davis that takes place in January 1961 right as Dylan emerges.) 

And if anyone out there doubts that Mr. Dylan should have won this prize, just remember that he's the guy who wrote: 

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
How many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they're forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind

Woody's Oscars

You know I love Woody Allen and his movies. As someone who pretentiously calls himself Mr NYC, it would be a crime not to.

So Penelope Cruz just won an Oscar for her turn in Woody's Vicky Christina Barcelona. She makes the sixth performance to win an Oscar in a Woody movie. The other winners?

Diane Keaton for Annie Hall (1977)
Michael Caine for Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)
Dianne Wiest for Hannah and Her Sisters (1986) and Bullets Over Broadway (1994)
Mira Sorvino for Mighty Aphrodite (1995)

The number of actors and actresses nominated for Oscars in Woody movies is also huge. Woody himself for Annie Hall, Maureen Stapleton and Geraldine Page for Interiors (1978), Mariel Hemingway for Manhattan (1979), Martin Landau in Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989), Judy Davis for Husbands and Wives (1992), Chazz Palminteri and Jennifer Tilly in Bullets Over Broadway, and Sean Penn and Samantha Morton in Sweet and Lowdown (1999).

If there are any others, I don't remember. But that's a hell of a list. (And that doesn't take into account all of Woody's writing and directing Oscars and nominations, which I certainly can't remember).

So that's six wins in thirty-one years, or a win roughly every 5.17 years. Considering that there are hundreds of movies released each year and a couple dozen nominated for Oscars every year, that makes his track record all that more impressive.

Remembering Cicely Tyson

As a hopelessly dopey white boy, I'd heard of Cicely Tyson and knew she was a great actress but I didn't really know that much else about her. Upon her recent death, at the age of 96, I read more about her life and career -- and my jaw dropped. 

What an amazing journey she had over ten decades of life! What a lady!

Imagine the length and scope of her life -- it's hard to comprehend. Imagine being born poor to immigrant parents and going onto a huge career as an in-demand fashion model and award-winning actress on stage and in movies and TV. And imagine starting this career in your twenties and still working into your nineties. Imagine traveling the world, meeting every famous person alive, winning tons of awards and getting all sorts of honors, helping to found the Dance Theather of Harlem, and becoming a beloved icon. 

Imagine being married to another great icon named Miles Davis -- and that not even being the most interesting thing about you. 

Now imagine doing all that as a black woman in America -- and achieving great success in these fields before Civil Rights? And imagine being as successful late in your life and career as you were earlier?

Wow. 

The odds were, to put it mildly, way against her and yet she beat and crushed them. And in addition to all this Cicely Tyson never forgot, never strayed, from where she came from. She was not only a great talent and trailblazer, she was a leading citizen of NYC. 

Cicely Tyson's incredible voyage began and ended in the same place -- Harlem, where she was born on December 19, 1924 and died on January 28, 2021. She truly came full circle.

RIP.

Remembering Mercedes de Acosta

Many years ago Howard Stern was interviewing movie icon Warren Beatty and got right to the point: "You make great movies," the King of All Media told the legendary Hollywood actor/director/Lothario, "if you didn't bang all those broads ... we'd talk about the movies, but the broads get in the way." (Then Stern told Beatty something about smelling his hand and the interview was over.)

Howard spoke the truth.

No matter how great a film icon Mr. Beatty is, no matter how many great movies he's directed and starred in, he'll best be remembered for his other great "productions": Natalie Wood, Joan Collins, Julie Christie, Goldie Hawn, Diane Keaton, Madonna, and many others. 

So was the case of Mercedes de Acosta.

Born in NYC in 1893 to affluent Cuban immigrants, Mercedes was a playwright, poet, and novelist. Her career trajectory was a little less Warren Beatty and a little more Llewyn Davis -- professionally, she was a failure, her work forgotten, her career unsuccessful. But she's remembered nonetheless. Why? Well, personally, she had some very successful "productions": Greta Garbo, Marlene Dietrich, Tallulah Bankhead, and many others.

Even though she married a man, Mercedes was a notorious, unashamed lesbian at a time when this could literally land you in jail. She made lovemaking into an art form, her skills became as legendary as any movie or work of literature. Most of all, she had a boundless, rapacious spirit. Mercedes was someone the world wanted to classify one way -- a boring married lady who did nothing -- and she refused to stay in her lane. Instead, she travelled the world, wrote prolifically, and seduced many women. She's probably best remembered for the quote: "I can get any woman away from any man." 

Fearless! 

Mercedes lived the life she wanted, even if it didn't always bring her happiness. (Maybe the "broads" got in the way of her having a more successful career but, honestly, I'd rather be remembered for "productions" like Mercedes de Acosta and Warren Beatty than any play or movie.) Sadly, Mercedes died in poverty in 1968, taking her legendary skills into the afterlife. In many ways, her life was sad but she was brave, she was courageous, and -- if sometimes a little fearless and irresponsible -- she lived her truth until the end.

How many of us can say that?

Review: "Furious" (2026)

I'm happy to say that my life has been so busy lately that I haven't been able to watch much television. However, after returning from vacation, I caught up on the new Hulu show Furious and, damn, it's crazy.

It's rare that you see an NYC show set in NYC that crosses between the high and low of the city, that goes from domestic violence shelters to high rise luxury apartment buildings, and devles into a subject matter that we'd all rather look away from -- the horrors of sex trafficking.

This series is clearly based on the Epstein case since, at the center of Furious, is a wealthy man named Jay Easton. The story involves a young ex-NYPD cop/current FBI agent named Alice (the amazing Emmy Rossum) who pairs up with a cranky middle-aged agent named Nora (the even more amazing Quincy Tyler Bernstine) and her best guy-friend Danny (Scott McNair), a sad-sack cop, as they investigate a series of murders involving wealthy men. Their work leads to a realization that all of these men were attackhed to a sex trafficking ring, and are meeting their doom at the hands of a young woman named Catherine (played by an insanely talented actress named Lola Pettigrew), a former victim of the ring. Alice, Nora, and Danny's work is greatly complicated by their messy personal lives along with colleagues and supervisors who are interfering their work. 

Furious is a show about corruption, greed, sick lust, buried secrets, and how the misbehavior of wealthy and powerful people can leave a massive trail of broken lives and human destruction. This show is not for the faint of heart but it's incredible, stunning drama.

This show was created by Liz Merriweather which is a suprise since her previous hit was the sitcom New Girl. The cast is incredible, and it includes the always wonderful Hope Davis as Jay Easton's Ghislaine Maxwell-like daughter, Jake Lacey as Alice's abusive ex-boyfriend, and Campbell Scott as Easton's lawyer (and one of Catherine's victim). There's also an actor named Steve Wray who plays a disabled friend of Alice's and he is so good, so funny, I hope he gets an Emmy.

So watch this show. Then remember to keep your love ones close.

 

Artists, Gangsters, Strippers, Subways & Seawalls: NYC Past and Future

As 2017 recedes into history, we are thrust into a period of time I like to call Weird Week -- those strange days between Christmas and New Year's that are a kind of temporal No Man's Land (sorry, in the #MeToo era we should call it a No Person's Land). Now that the crush of the holidays are over, there's a general sense of looseness among people, a sense of fun aimlessness, lots of folks taking time off work or traveling, indulging in all the things they didn't have the time or energy for during the year. It's a short window to "chillax" until the demands of the New Year arrive.

It's also, of course, a time to ponder the year gone by and the one ahead. Here in NYC, a city that's always changing and making history, that's an especially fun thing to do.

So here's a post that's totally Weird, Loose and Aimless, a fin de l'annee medley of links to stories about the people and places that shaped our city (for better or worse, depending on your opinion) and a couple about our city's future.

First, read this absolutely fascinating story about the life of Lorenzo de Ponte. If this guy's story was a movie, you wouldn't believe it. He was like an Italian Forrest Gump but with a higher IQ and far less morals.  He knew Casanova, Mozart, and Clement Clark Moore, and he worked and scammed his way into European and NYC history.

Then jump ahead to the 1960s. Here's a brilliant sequence of photos featuring the singers and artists of Greenwich Village, including a young Bob Dylan and Peter, Paul and Mary. If you've ever seen the great movie Inside Llewyn Davis, this is a wonderful companion piece showing you the spirit of Kennedy-era NYC, a time of excitement and creativity -- before Vietnam, crime, Watergate, and stagflation washed it away.

And, talking about time, we move into the 1970s. If you know about the mafia in NYC, then you know all about the Italian, Irish, and Jewish gangs that roamed and ruled the city for most of the 20th century. There was also, at the same time, a powerful black mafia located in Harlem that for decades ran numbers games, etc. while also taking care of the most vulnerable people in the city. But the war on drugs made it come crashing all down. If you've ever seen the movie American Gangster, then you know the story of how Harlem drug kingpins Frank Lucas and Nicky Barnes rose to unprecedented power in the NYC crime world before being brought low. And this article tells the true story behind the one you see in the movie.

The Eighties: if the 1960s were exciting and the 1970s were scary, then the 1980s were sleazy -- really sleazy. Back then Times Square and Midtown Manhattan were populated by strip clubs and porno theaters. You couldn't walk around these areas without seeing them, they were ubiquitous. There was no adult entertainment space more famous or popular in 1980s NYC than Show World, the great sex palace where adult actors came to perform and New Yorkers and tourists went to ... enjoy themselves. Show World had stage shows, peep shows, and sold all sorts of movies and ... equipment. Show World's days as a pleasure palace are long over and, thanks the Internet and blue laws, has been reduced to a small store that, in addition to naughty items, mostly sells tourist chotchkies. These links here, here, and here (NSFW) tell the story of its glory days -- and end of days.

And now we turn to the future. 

On January 1st, 2017, the long-awaited multi-billion dollar Second Avenue Subway opened -- three brand new stations along the Upper East Side. As this article indicates, it's been downhill for the subways and MTA since then. This past "Summer of Hell" consisting of train delays and detours lead to furious squabbling between Governor Cuomo, Mayor De Blasio and MTA Chairman Joe Lhota about who really runs and finances the MTA. Cuomo and Lhota lied, saying that the mayor runs the MTA which led De Blasio to accurately retort that it's simply not true (the state leases the MTA from the city, finances its, the governor appoints the chairman, the chairman runs the organization, and no one really disagrees with that except the people who run and botched the subways this summer). If Cuomo runs for president in 2020, his mishandling of the MTA might come back to haunt him or, pun intended, "derail" his ambitions -- and might therefore affect the future of this nation.

Finally, the fun stuff! NYC is being affected by climate change and a swelling population. This article explores the most amazing ideas by city planners of what NYC might look like in the future. Imagine: the East River between Manhattan and Brooklyn/Queens being drained and replaced by a park; sidewalks in the sky; elevated bike paths; whole parks on rooftops of buildings; massive seawalls protecting the harbor. These visions for NYC are, at best, fantastical but, if even one of them comes to fruition, the face and life of the city will be very different ... and the past will seem more distant than ever. 

The Great Precursor: "The Beautiful and Damned" @ 100

Last year saw the release of two movies based on musicals -- In the Heights by Lin-Manuel Miranda and tick ... tick ... BOOM! by Jonathan Larson (the movie of which was actually directed Miranda) -- that would never have been made had their respective creators not then, for their next shows, created arguably the two greatest musicals of the last 25 years -- Rent and Hamilton.  

Call them precursors, forerunners, warm-up-acts, playing in the minors before the majors, what have you -- the small things that came before the big things, the good things before the truly GREAT things. Their first shows got them attention and acclaim. Their next shows vaulted them into cultural history. 

Think Reservoir Dogs before Pulp Fiction, War of the Worlds before Citizen Kane, Llewyn Davis playing before Bob Dylan at the Gaslight, you get the idea. Before something really great, you have to have something pretty good -- but the pretty good won't get remembered unless followed by something really great. 

Got it?

Between 1919 and 1941, F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote four novels (plus one uncompleted one) and numerous short stories. The voice of his generation, doyen of the Jazz Age, Fitzgerald would be remembered today as a talented writer who was a product of his era had he not written what is arguably the greatest American novel of the 20th century -- The Great Gatsby. Gatsby's legacy towers over American literature, it's themes of the emptiness of the American dream, the false promise of wealth buying love and happiness, and how we can never recreate our idealized pasts even though we are haunted by them have made it truly timeless.

Every time I read Gatsby I'm just amazed by what a perfect, gorgeous, and powerful story it is -- and how its creation was nothing short of a miracle.

So what came before it? Even Fitzgerald had to have his own warm up act -- in this case, two novels: his youthful 1919 debut, This Side of Paradise, and his 1922 dark satire The Beautiful and Damned.

When Gatsby turns 100 in 2025, there will doubtless be myriad articles, documentaries, think pieces celebrating its greatness. It'll be a Gatsby melee. There will probably be a deluge of analysis of this seminal American work, this forever masterpiece. As well there should be!

But The Beautiful and Damned is being, no surprise, critically overlooked, ignored, on its 100th anniversary. It's like the ugly sibling being slighted for the gorgeous one. 

Thus it's left to yours truly to celebrate the 100 anniversary of Gatsby's precursor -- call it the Great Precursor -- The Beautiful and Damned, the novel you read constantly thinking, "And right after this book, he wrote The Great Gatsby!"

The novel is about married couple living a dissolute life in nineteen-teens NYC. Although Fitzgerald is mostly associated with the 1920s (and this novel was published in March, 1922), it's story is set between 1913 and 1921, bookending the First World War. The orphaned Anthony Patch is the grandson of a wealthy, irascible industrialist who spends his days sleeping and his evening partying -- and waiting for his grandfather to die so that he will inherit tens of millions of dollars (essentially the equivalent of a billion or more today). Anthony meets, through his friends, a debutante named Gloria from Kansas City. They marry and, together, they spend their days drinking and spending money they don't really have, alienating people and getting into trouble -- before Anthony is drafted and heads south for basic training for the First World War. Adultery and hangovers ensue, and a couple ugly twists rob Anthony of his inheritance -- and sanity. The ending is a real shock. 

It's an ugly, tragic tale but it's also a darkly funny book. Where Gatsby is elegiac, Beautiful and Damned is nasty. Fitzgerald does not get sentimental or deep here -- it's almost documentary like in showing and mocking the bad behavior of the ideal, mindless rich (who are never as rich as they think).

When I read this book in college, my professor said, "It's a very bad book." That took me by surprise since, in school, we're supposed to read the great works by the masters -- not one of their minor, or even bad, works. I didn't think the book bad at all -- it's entertaining, amusing, and quite appealing to the sarcastic mind, but it's also overlong and overwritten, clearly the work of a young writer trying to prove himself, favoring verbosity over restraint.

Still, I recommend reading The Beautiful and Damned on its centenary year since, while it's a product of its time, it's a time that reverberates today -- and, yes, because it's the one that came BEFORE, the Great Precursor to The Great Gatsby, the seeds of the timeless greatness that flowered afterwards.

P.S. I hesitated making this comparison earlier but here goes now: another way to put it is, The Beautiful and Damned is like the person you seriously dated before you met your spouse. Barack Obama, who lived in NYC during law school before making his career in Chicago, once called our city "The great love of your life that you never married." 

That's this book in a nutshell.

They Made the Cultah'

I always like to remember and pay tribute to people who may not have been super-famous but who, in their own way, left a mark on the culture of NYC.

Two such New Yorkers who passed away recently who are perfect examples (they were either from here or lived here in the past).

One is Ron Galella. He was the original NYC paparazzi, snapping pictures of celebrities on the streets, out and about the town. He created a whole genre (for better or worse) of photojournalism and it got him in trouble quite a lot -- particularly with his favorite subject, Jackie O. But today's outsider is tomorrow's insider, and Ron was a perfect example of a rebel going establishment. In his later years, there were exhibits and documentaries about his work, and organizations like TMZ, etc. wouldn't exist without his influence. He big had an impact on the celebrity culture of NYC, making the glamorous look as ordinary as the rest of us. Ron has died at the age of 91. 

The other is Judy Henske, a transplant from Wisconsin who found success in the Greenwich Village coffee house folk scene of the 1960s. She knew and played with everyone, including Dave Von Ronk, the inspiration for the movie Inside Llewellyn Davis. Judy was also, apparently, the real life inspiration for Annie Hall -- another young woman from Wisconsin who came to NYC to find success as a singer. Judy was one of the talents who made the Village folk scene of that time (which produced Bob Dylan, amongst others) almost mythic, but she a long career afterwards, a tribute to her talent. Judy has died at age 85.

Ron and Judy helped make the culture of this city. While their time on Earth over, their contributions to NYC are timeless. 

Last of the Blues Greats

I just read -- and urged you to do so -- this article about Robert Ross, a veteran blues guitarist who has played the club scene in NYC and around the country for more than 50 years.

Even though Ross jammed with Jimi Hendrix back in the day and played at hallowed, long-gone NYC institutions like Max's Kansas City, Ross has never become rich and famous or any kind of star. He's remained, for more than half-a-centry, a journeyman muscian, a traveling man singing for his supper, a living relic of a time and music long gone by.

Yet Ross endures, sharing his genuine love the blues with people everywhere he goes. In some ways, he's a real life Llewyn Davis -- a singer/guitarist committed to a type of music that's not very popular, certainly not lucrative, but has so much soul and spirit, provides so much joy, that he's willing to keep performing it for pennies.

Ross's life story both saddens and inspires, making you realize that sometimes your love and pride in your work is the only reward you'll get -- and sometimes that's enough.

In the Shadow of Greatness

I was pondering something lately and, as a ponder, it was an admittedly silly ponder but ponder about this silly matter I nonetheless did ponder. 

The ponder was about Anthony Bourdain, the late writer/broadcaster about food and travel who died by his own hand in 2018. He went from being a line chef to a celebrity due to his brilliant writings and TV shows that observed the world around us and what we eat. He became acclaimed and famous for making us look at and understand our world better -- and making it more delicious.

Oh, yes, and he was my neighbor -- something I've blogged about more than a few times before. 

Bourdain is still remembered and celebrated almost a decade after his death -- now with a movie about his life set to debut this this year -- which is something few us will ever get. 

He achieved, in a word, greatness -- and yours truly lived in the shadow of his greatness. 

This blog has always been my attempt to understand NYC better and to share my observations about it to the world. But I never will achieve the greatness that Bourdain did although I think I've also contributed something of value to the culture too.

And as once-neighbor, in a way, we share a certain past -- although he went on to greatness and I have spent my time laboring in the shadows.

In 'udder words, if Anthony Bourdain was ...

... Bob Dylan, I'm Llewyn Davis. If

... Mozart, I'm Salieri.

... Jesus, I'm Brian.

But greatness is not, should not, be the purpose of life. Greatness finds people -- like it did Anthony Bourdain. However, we should all try to contribute what we can, when we can, where and how we can. And I've done that! Maybe my contributions are in the shadows but they're not totally in the dark. 

A #MeToo Manhattan Rhapsody

For a long time, Manhattan was considered Woody Allen's quintessential movie.

Released in 1979, it tells the story of Isaac Davis (played by Woody), a New York writer who is caught at the intersection of romantic, professional, and personal struggles. He's 42, twice divorced, and has recently quit his miserable but high-paying TV writing job to work on a novel. Also, his best friend is having an affair, one that Isaac gets drawn into. Ultimately, he realizes that his friend is not really his friend, the woman he thinks he loves is not who he thinks she is, and that he hasn't really valued the people and things in his life that give him real happiness.

Yes, one of those people includes his 17-year old girlfriend. 

To me this movie has always been about what and who we value, about what we do with our lives, and who we let into them. It asks the question "Who and what makes us happy?" -- and why? And it says that, in order to do this, we must embrace optimism, no matter how hard it is. The final line of the movies says it all: "You just have to have a little faith in people."

None of the matters today. The themes and messages of Manhattan are no longer cared about. They've been lost completely. This amazing movie is now viewed as something criminal. 

Why? Because of the 17 year old -- or, as one character says in the movie, "the little girl."

Needless to say, I take a slight umbrage with this blunt dismissal of this classic film. I have two daughters, and wouldn't (and will not!) brook such a relationship with them. But I think a few things should be kept in mind when evaluating this movie, this relationship, and the ensuing broo-haha in light of the #MeToo movement.  

First point: the idea that Isaac is exploiting the 17-year old is, in fact, clearly refuted in the film. Issac is constantly agonizing over the relationship, realizes it’s inappropriate, and eventually ends it. He adores this girl but realizes that she’s just too young.

So, you might ask, why does this relationship even exist in Manhattan in the first place? Isn't Woody still a perve anyway?

That gets to my second point: Woody Allen was born in 1935 and got married in the mid-1950s when he was 19. He came from a generation when many people got married and started families right out of high school, meaning they had begun their courtship before graduation Back then, childhoods were short, adulthoods began once school (not college, not grad school, not your twenties) was over. The idea that a 17-year old was still a "child" was not, up until recently, a real concept. These days, society has extended childhood -- and all the protection it demands -- well into what was once considered (and legally still is) adulthood. But this is a recent, very recent, phenomenon. So a woman (or girl, depending on your view) dating an older man was not the scandal in 1979 that it is in 2018. 

And this raises my third point: The idea that 17 year-olds were then, or are now, these precious little flowers, these innocent creatures who must in protected at all costs, is a relatively new one in our society. I remember being 17 back in the 1990s and many of my peers that age were living fast and hard (with all that implies). They were not "innocent" creatures -- hardly. They had fake IDs, they snuck into bars and clubs, they stayed out all night, they smoked weed (and did harder drugs), they partied, and yes, they had sex with people, lots of people, including older people. Again, they were hardly innocents -- they were agents of their own destinies, masters of their own fates, in control of what they did with their bodies. Perhaps they lacked maturity but if you look at our president -- the oldest one we've had in history -- maturity is not necessarily tied to age.

Should a movie with a relationship like the one in Manhattan be made today? Probably not. If she was in grad school, around the age of 25, it might be better -- although some might still consider that creepy. Which also begs the question: where's the line where the age difference between a man and woman in love isn't creepy? When it is okay? Who's the arbiter of this? Who's to say? 

Fourth point: if you reject Manhattan because you find this relationship offensive, then you must also reject, well, A LOT of stuff. Why is Manhattan more scandalous than say Revenge of the Nerds, where a woman is raped and is played for laughs? Cultural revisionism needs to have some standards otherwise its just everyone’s separate opinion and ultimately means nothing.

I don't think Manhattan should be rejected or not watched today. After all, if it wasn't such a great movie, why would The New York Times be running long, agonizing "think pieces" about a movie that came out 40 years ago, when Jimmy Carter was still president and disco was still popular? Instead, we should take a "mature" or "woke" approach: watch the movie, appreciate what a great work of cinematic art it is, and also recognize that the central relationship in the film, while not entirely appropriate, was more appropriate at the time even though it's outrageous by today's standards. We call that "context." #MeToo.