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Wiley Blackwell Companions to Film Directors

The Wiley Blackwell Companions to Film Directors survey key directors whose work together constitutes what we refer to as the Hollywood and world cinema canons. Whether Haneke or Hitchcock, Bigelow or Bergmann, Capra or the Coen brothers, each volume, comprised of 25 or more newly commissioned essays written by leading experts, explores a canonical, contemporary and/or controversial auteur in a sophisticated, authoritative, and multi-dimensional capacity. Individual volumes interrogate any number of subjects – the director's oeuvre; dominant themes, well-known, worthy, and under-rated films; stars, collaborators, and key influences; reception, reputation, and above all, the director's intellectual currency in the scholarly world.

Published

  1. A Companion to Michael Haneke, edited by Roy Grundmann
  2. A Companion to Alfred Hitchcock, edited by Thomas Leitch and Leland Poague
  3. A Companion to Rainer Werner Fassbinder, edited by Brigitte Peucker
  4. A Companion to Werner Herzog, edited by Brad Prager
  5. A Companion to Pedro Almodóvar, edited by Marvin D'Lugo and Kathleen Vernon
  6. A Companion to Woody Allen, edited by Peter J. Bailey and Sam B. Girgus
  7. A Companion to Jean Renoir, edited by Alastair Phillips and Ginette Vincendeau
  8. A Companion to Francois Truffaut, edited by Dudley Andrew and Anne Gillian
  9. A Companion to Luis Buñuel, edited by Robert Stone and Julian Daniel Gutierrez-Albilla
  10. A Companion to Jean-Luc Godard, edited by Tom Conley and T. Jefferson Kline
  11. A Companion to Martin Scorsese, edited by Aaron Baker
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Contributors

Aaron Baker is Associate Professor and Area Chair in the Film and Media Studies program within the English Department at Arizona State University. He is the author of Steven Soderbergh (University of Illinois Press, 2011).

Michael Brendan Baker is a postdoctoral researcher in the Centre for Cinema Studies at the University of British Columbia. He has published book chapters and articles on a range of subjects including documentary, popular music and film, and new media. He is presently at work on a book manuscript, Rockumentary: An Incomplete History of the Popular Music Documentary.

Giorgio Bertellini is Associate Professor in the Departments of Screen Arts and Cultures and Romance Languages and Literatures at the University of Michigan. He is the editor of The Cinema of Italy (2004; 2007), Early Cinema and the National (with Richard Abel and Rob King), and Italian Silent Cinema: A Reader (2013), and author of Emir Kusturica (1996; 2011; English Edition 2014), and the award-winning Italy in Early American Cinema: Race, Landscape, and the Picturesque (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2010). His current project, The Divo and the Duce: Film Stardom and Political Leadership in 1920s America, focuses on the fascination for figures of charisma and authority in the American popular and political culture of the 1920s.

Robert Casillo is Professor of English at the University of Miami. He is the author of The Genealogy of Demons: Anti-Semitism, Fascism, and the Myths of Ezra Pound (1988), The Empire of Stereotypes: Germaine de Stael and the Idea of Italy (2006), and Gangster Priest: The Italian American Cinema of Martin Scorsese (2006). He is the coauthor (with John Paul Russo) of The Italian in Modernity (2011).

Jonathan J. Cavallero is an Assistant Professor of Rhetoric at Bates College. His research focuses on representations of race, ethnicity, and immigration in film and television. He is the author of Hollywood's Italian American Filmmakers (University of Illinois Press, 2010) and several journal articles.

Anthony D. Cavaluzzi is Associate Professor of English at State University of New York Adirondack where he teaches World Literature and Film Studies. He has published on the works of Naguib Mahfouz, Salvatore La Puma, Pietro Di Donato, Guiseppe Borgese, South African Prison Literature, and the paintings of Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett.

Daniel S. Cutrara is an Assistant Professor in the Film and Media Studies Program at Arizona State University. His book, Wicked Cinema: Sex and Religion on Screen, published in 2014 by the University of Texas Press, analyzes the ideological implications of cinematic representations of the religious believer and sexuality.

Guerric DeBona, O.S.B., is a Benedictine monk and professor of homiletics and communication at Saint Meinrad School of Theology. He is the author of Film Adaptation in the Hollywood Studio Period (2010), along with several other books and articles dealing with film, religion, and popular culture.

Larissa M. Ennis is a Progam Manager at the University of Oregon Academic Extension, where she manages the Cinema Pacific film festival and online educational programs.

Leger Grindon is Professor of Film Studies at Middlebury College and author of Shadows on the Past: Studies in the Historical Fiction Film (Temple University Press, 1994), The Hollywood Romantic Comedy: Conventions, History, Controversies (Wiley Blackwell, 2011), and Knockout: The Boxer and Boxing in American Cinema (University Press of Mississippi, 2011).

Bambi Haggins is an Associate Professor of Film and Media Studies at Arizona State University. In addition to her award-winning book, Laughing Mad (Rutgers University Press, 2007), Haggins' work has appeared in Cinema Journal, Framework and Ms. She was also the screenwriter for Why We Laugh: Funny Women (Showtime, 2013).

Michael D. High is a PhD candidate and Adjunct Lecturer in the Department of Cultural Analysis and Theory at Stony Brook University. He is currently writing his dissertation on representations of maritime, intellectual, and digital piracy.

Robert P. Kolker is Emeritus Professor at the University of Maryland and lecturer in the Bachelor of Interdisciplinary Studies program at the University of Virginia. Among his books are A Cinema of Loneliness, The Altering Eye, Film, Form, and Culture, and The Cultures of American Film.

Brendan Kredell is an Assistant Professor of Cinema Studies at Oakland University. His work focuses on the intersection of media and urban studies, and has been published in a number of journals and edited collections. He is currently coediting a book on film festival studies.

Matt R. Lohr is the coauthor of Dan O'Bannon's Guide to Screenplay Structure. An award-winning screenwriter, essayist, and critic, Lohr's views on contemporary and classic cinema can be found on his blog, “The Movie Zombie.” He regularly lectures on cinema and writing at film festivals, colleges and genre conventions throughout the United States. He is a guest on film and writing podcasts from around the world.

Giuliana Muscio is Professor of Cinema at the University of Padua, Italy. She earned a PhD in Film at the University of California, Los Angeles and has taught American Film History at UCLA and American Studies at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis. She is the author of Hollywood's New Deal (Temple University Press, 1996), the forthcoming Naples/New York/Hollywood, and of essays, both in Italian and English, on the film interactions between the United State and Italy.

Murray Pomerance is Professor in the Department of Sociology at Ryerson University. He is the author of Marnie, The Eyes Have It: Cinema and the Reality Effect, Alfred Hitchcock's America, Michelangelo Red Antonioni Blue: Eight Reflections on Cinema, The Horse Who Drank the Sky: Film Experience Beyond Narrative and Theory, Johnny Depp Starts Here, and An Eye for Hitchcock, as well as editor of numerous volumes including The Last Laugh: Strange Humors of Cinema, Shining in Shadows: Movie Stars of the 2000s, and Cinema and Modernity. His fiction includes Tomorrow and Edith Valmaine. He is editor of the “Techniques of the Moving Image” series at Rutgers University Press and the “Horizons of Cinema” series at SUNY Press, as well as coeditor of “Screen Decades” and “Star Decades” from Rutgers.

Marc Raymond is an Assistant Professor in the College of Communication at Kwangwoon University in Seoul, South Korea. He is the author of Hollywood's New Yorker: The Making of Martin Scorsese (SUNY Press, 2013). The present research has been conducted with a Research Grant from Kwangwoon University (2013).

Jacqueline Reich is Professor and Chair of the Department of Communication and Media Studies at Fordham University. She is the author of Beyond the Latin Lover: Marcello Mastroianni, Masculinity, and Italian Cinema (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2004) and coeditor of Re-viewing Fascism: Italian Cinema, 1922–1942 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2002). At present she is working on two book projects: The Maciste Films of Italian Silent Cinema (Indiana University Press, 2014), in collaboration with the National Film Museum in Turin, and a study of Italian masculinity and stardom (Forthcoming, Il Castoro). She also curates the book series New Directions in National Cinemas for Indiana University Press.

Laura E. Ruberto is a professor in the Humanities Program and co-chairs the Department of Arts and Cultural Studies at Berkeley City College. She authored Gramsci, Migration, and the Representation of Women’s Work in Italy and the U.S., co-edited Italian Neorealism and Global Cinema, and translated Such Is Life, Ma la vita e’ fatta cosi: A Memoir. Her research has been supported by a Fulbright Faculty Research grant and an NEH summer grant. She co-edits the book series Critical Studies in Italian America (Fordham University Press) and is the Film and Digital Media Review Editor for the Italian American Review.

Stefan Sereda received his PhD from Wilfrid Laurier University, where he won a Graduate Gold Medal for his dissertation, Cinema in Scare Quotes: Postmodern Aesthetics and Economics in the American Art Cinema. He has published research into American cinema and African media, and he teaches courses on American film history and film genres.

David Sterritt is a film critic, author, and scholar. He is most notable for his books on Alfred Hitchcock and Jean-Luc Godard, and his many years as the Film Critic for The Christian Science Monitor. He has a PhD in Cinema Studies from New York University, and is the Chairman of the National Society of Film Critics.

R. Colin Tait is an Assistant Professor in Film, Television and Digital Media at Texas Christian University, and the coauthor of The Cinema of Steven Soderbergh: Indie Sex, Corporate Lies and Digital Videotape. His recent publications include work on genre cycles, television, authorship, and Robert De Niro.

Introduction
Artistic Solutions to Sociological Problems

Aaron Baker

Among critics and other filmmakers, Martin Scorsese is widely regarded as one of the most important contemporary directors. Marc Raymond (2002) has written that Scorsese is “the greatest American filmmaker of his generation,” and his stature was demonstrated by a British Film Institute international survey of filmmakers, in which Raging Bull (1980) finished second only to Citizen Kane (1941) in a poll of the Top Ten Films of all time. Yet Scorsese's often violent stories of sin and redemption within contexts of social conflict, his films' hybrid combination of Hollywood genre with European art cinema stylization and narrative ambiguity, have until recently limited their appeal with large audiences. Only in four of his last five features, The Aviator (2004), The Departed (2006), Shutter Island (2010), and Wolf Street (2013) – genre films built around the star power of Leonardo DiCaprio, was Scorsese able to reach $100 million in earnings, and finally win his first Academy Award. Actor Harvey Keitel explained the Academy's long-standing disregard for Scorsese as an indication of the director's aesthetic standards when he commented: “Maybe he got what he deserves…exclusion from the mediocre” (Dougan, 2004: xxi).

Scorsese's stature is built partly on virtuoso filmmaking technique, exemplified by his collaboration in eight films with the physical transformation and painstaking preparation used by Robert De Niro to redefine film acting, with Michael Chapman's chiaroscuro black and white cinematography and Thelma Schoonmaker's editing in Raging Bull, or his execution with Chapman of the tracking shot showing Travis Bickle's carnage at the end of Taxi Driver (1976) or the four-minute long take done with cinematographer Michael Ballhaus through the Copacabana kitchen in GoodFellas (1990). Part of Scorsese's prominence among critics and other filmmakers has come also from his encyclopedic knowledge of movie history, a reputation created by the numerous allusions in his films, his work on behalf of film preservation, and by his documentaries, A Personal Journey with Martin Scorsese through American Movies (1995) and Il Mio Viaggio in Italia (1999) about his debt to Italian cinema. His knowledge of popular music is the equal of such cinéphilia, and as Michael Baker comments in this volume, Scorsese uses “the affective power of rock music…to deliver moments of narrative might, stylistic swagger, and staggering emotional import.” Some of these combinations of music and image are therefore as notable as his other demonstrations of virtuoso form: the use of The Rolling Stones' “Jumpin' Jack Flash” with slow motion and stylized lighting as De Niro's character makes his entrance in Mean Streets, The Animals' “House of the Rising Sun” in Casino (1995), and the sequence in GoodFellas tracked by the piano coda of Derek & The Dominos' “Layla” are just three examples. Roger Ebert has written that “of all directors of his generation and younger, he may make the best use of rock music in his films” (Ebert, 2008: 4).

Scorsese's filmmaking is at its most inspired telling stories on the margins of urban life, especially in his native New York, which he often shows as a place created by the externalized subjectivity of characters destabilized by conflict and paranoia. Even after three films, The Departed, Shutter Island, and Hugo (2011), that left New York for Boston, Boston Harbor, and Paris, respectively, as part of his appeal to a larger audience, Scorsese has returned to New York for The Wolf of Wall Street. In his chapter in this volume about the director's contribution to the omnibus film New York Stories (1989), Murray Pomerance states that “His films are New York films, no matter their putative location.” Whether set in New York or not, the strong urban flavor of Scorsese's movies can be traced to how, coincident with his taste for stylized expressionism, he grounds his stories in a diverse social reality through a documentary style of location shooting done on city streets and colloquial language. Yet despite this tension of expressionism and realism, his movies ultimately make a stronger gesture toward self-conscious allusion and virtuoso form as a reminder of their own fictionality and the power to assert Scorsese's and the viewer's control over the narrative even as the characters conversely often find little success through their actions. Robert Kolker calls this self-reflexive tendency in Scorsese's films the director's “statement about the existence of the camera, the eyes behind it, and their ability to create, own and express ideas…the triangulation the film creates with itself, film history, and the viewer” (Kolker, 2011: 197).

Scorsese's four most highly acclaimed films demonstrate this synthesis of allusion, style, and authorship. In Mean Streets, he combined noir spaces with French New Wave discontinuity style to represent the conflict faced by Charlie (Harvey Keitel), as he tries to reconcile his sexual desire for his girlfriend Teresa (Amy Robinson), and to move up by impressing this loan shark uncle, with a Christian duty to follow the dictates of his faith against extramarital sex and to look out for his wayward friend, Johnny (Robert De Niro). In Taxi Driver, Scorsese contrasts neorealist images of New York with allusion to John Ford's captivity narrative in The Searchers (1956) and compositions and camera movements drawn from Psycho (1960) and Frenzy (1972) to underscore the paranoid delusion with which Travis Bickle (De Niro) sees his world. In Raging Bull, realist mise-en-scène and noir imagery invoke Hollywood boxing films such as The Set Up (1947) and Somebody Up There Likes Me (1950) to show how the anger created by economic exploitation not only fuels the intensity of De Niro's Jake LaMotta in the ring, but also metastasizes outside it into sexism, racism, and homophobia. LaMotta expresses his frustration about the manipulation of his boxing career in violent jealously about the relationships between his wife Vicky (Cathy Moriarty) and other men, in a dark point of view shot of African American rival Sugar Ray Robinson as a monstrous figure, and through aggressive threats to sodomize another opponent and one of the gangsters whom he sees as rivals for Vicky's affections. GoodFellas uses the crime film convention of gangsters living large to parallel wise guy greed and consumption with similar pathologies in 1980s American society as a whole. When David Chase pitched his gangster drama The Sopranos to HBO executives as about how “America is a country so despoiled with materialism that…it even makes a gangster sick,” he was making a Scorsese-like allusion modeled on the descent into addiction and paranoia that brings down Ray Liotta's character at the end of GoodFellas.

For a filmmaker of Scorsese's stature, surprisingly few books have been written on his work. One of the best is by Robert Casillo, who views Scorsese primarily in relation to his ethnicity and religious identity, describing the filmmaker as a “chronicler of the epic of Italian America” (Casillo, 2006: xi). Casillo regards Scorsese's Italian American films as his best, stories of outsider status and the struggle for assimilation based on the experience of his Sicilian family in New York. For Scorsese, organized crime is an important part of Italian American culture, and while Casillo acknowledges the criticism of negative stereotypes for Italian Americans, he rejects the assertion that the Mafia is an example of what Edward Banfield called the “amoral familialism” of Southern Italian culture, the greater allegiance to immediate family rather than community, government or laws. Casillo instead views the Mafia as a voluntary organization that requires the choice to separate from family in the interest of ambition, similar in that sense to how assimilation and acculturation for immigrants require the same separation and assertion of individual identity (Casillo, 2006: 23).

As Casillo points out, Scorsese's film career was made possible because of an instance of such separation, in his case from the common practice among Italian immigrants of making children quit school and go to work to help support the family. Instead, Scorsese's education at New York University (NYU) provided him with not only the skills to make film his profession but formed also the basis of his knowledge of the medium that allows him to critique the assumptions of commercial cinema. While Scorsese is often seen as making films primarily about men, Robert Kolker, another critic who along with Casillo has done some of the best writing on Scorsese's career, describes how this focus on male identity is part of a critique of commercial cinema's normative assumptions about masculinity. Kolker notes that in Taxi Driver Scorsese uses Travis Bickle vigilante violence to comment that

while individuals may do brave deeds, the concept of the hero and heroism is a culturally constructed myth. It begins in epic poetry and lives on in movies that posit violent individual action as a social good, rendering the community passive and helpless in the face of the man of action. Taxi Driver allows the viewer to assume the position of the hero's admirers. (Kolker, 2011: 250–251)

But after invoking what Robert Ray calls the “outlaw hero,” whose violent unilateral “justice” is so common in Hollywood movies, Scorsese ends Taxi Driver with a reference to Bernard Herrmann's score to Psycho to imply that Travis is more sociopath than hero.

With his focus on Scorsese's ethnicity and religion, Casillo might interpret this critique as not just about Hollywood's idea of masculinity but also about what he calls a Southern Italian “code of masculine honour and its obsession with pride and retaliatory violence” (Casillo, 2006: xviii). Therefore, if the critique of antisocial violent masculinity in Taxi Driver comes through Scorsese's allusion to Hitchcock, it may also be motivated by the director's Catholic values; Casillo explains that it is such contradiction between Scorsese's religious morality and exposure to wise guy culture that prompted him to call his book about the director Gangster Priest (Casillo, 2006: xiv).

Lesley Stern also reads Scorsese's emphasis on violence as part of a critique of normative masculinity in the chapter entitled “Meditation on Violence” from her book The Scorsese Connection. She compares Raging Bull to Emeric Pressburger's and Michael Powell's 1948 film The Red Shoes, noting how both movies focus on performance, boxing and ballet, respectively, as rituals of obsession, which she describes as at the same time “magical and cruelly violent” (Stern, 1995: 19). Stern goes on to interpret the ritual of boxing in Raging Bull as about defining masculinity, and she asserts that

along with other Scorsese films, [Raging Bull] exhibits an obsessive fascination with as well as repulsion for, the problems and experiences of masculinity…masculine fantasies and masculinity as fantasy. (Stern, 1995: 24)

In Stern's view, the LaMotta character's limited dominance in the ring is offset by his pathology outside it, demonstrating that this fantasy is “the association of masculinity with power as illusory” (Stern, 1995: 27).

Besides Casillo, Kolker, and Stern, another useful source on Scorsese is Vincent LoBrutto's much quoted biography that benefited from cooperation with the filmmaker himself. Marc Raymond, whose overview of Scorsese's career opens this volume, has also published a book about his films that places them within a social context and looks at his work within the documentary form and on film preservation. In his chapter in this volume, Raymond offers a revisionist examination of how Scorsese's biography has been written and its bearing on his critical reputation as a filmmaker. What Raymond (2013) concludes is that the

critical community shares the conviction that great filmmaking negotiates between the two extremes of Hollywood and the avant-garde. It is in this aesthetic, which will become increasingly popular throughout the years, that Scorsese's reputation will be built.

To illustrate this point, Raymond focuses at length on the controversy over The Last Temptation of Christ (1988) and how most critics sided with Scorsese, turning him into “a martyred genius.” In Raymond's view, such portrayal of Scorsese as the maligned artist made possible “his ascendancy to the post of greatest filmmaker of his generation.”

This elevated position, Raymond argues, allowed Scorsese in recent years to move toward the Hollywood mainstream without suffering too much damage to his critical reputation. This is an appraisal with which Robert Kolker disagrees, stating that Scorsese's transition from eight movies with De Niro to projects with Leonardo DiCaprio has coincided with a capitulation to “large-scale productions” infused with the commercial values of Hollywood stardom. Kolker states: “De Niro's characters seethe from within; DiCaprio seems always to be impersonating someone” (Kolker, 2011: 256–257).

The chapters in this volume have been arranged in four parts. Part One, entitled “The Pious Auteur,” includes five chapters that build on Casillo's work by focusing on how not only Scorsese's Catholicism and ethnicity, but also an extensive knowledge of film history, have impacted his movies. Scorsese's background, particularly his upbringing in New York, his Italian American family and neighborhood, and his religious training, have played a prominent role in his films. He has explained the extreme violence in his movies as the influence of growing up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan and seeing fights and bloodshed on a regular basis as a boy. In high school, Scorsese planned to enter the seminary, but wound up at NYU where he studied cinema, yet Catholicism continued to be a central theme in his films. As Scorsese has stated: “My whole life has been movies and religion. That's it. Nothing else” (Kelly, 2004: 6).

David Sterritt offers an insightful overview of religion in Scorsese's films. He traces how not just Catholic belief but a range of religious ideas can be found in his work and regards this thematic emphasis as putting him “at odds with…the American film industry at large, which has a powerful belief in genre, formula, and noncontroversial narrative as the surest routes to popularity and profit.” By analyzing a range of his films, including Mean Streets, The Last Temptation of Christ, Kundun (1997), After Hours (1985), and Shutter Island, Sterritt shows how “Scorsese has injected signs and signifiers of his distinctive religiosity into a broad array of movies in a variety of genres.”

Besides the role of religion in his films, Part One also includes two chapters that examine how Scorsese's ethnicity and extensive knowledge of film history intersect through the influence of neorealism and Italian cinema more generally. Giorgio Bertellini and Jacqueline Reich analyze Scorsese's representation of aggressive masculinity – what they term “his penchant for unregimented, rebellious male characters” through the lens of Italian cinema. According to Bertellini and Reich, Scorsese's invocation of Italian cinema, in particular the films of Fellini, Rossellini, Pasolini, Bertolucci, and Visconti, creates a “filmic pastiche” that fosters “an intellectually rich probing of American screen masculinity.”

The result is that Scorsese's filmmaking is best understood in their view as “an aesthetic profile positioned between American and European cinema.” His link to Hollywood comes from how he has repeatedly employed genre elements from the gangster film, boxing film, and melodrama, “as a means of paying homage to the American films of his youth,” yet while also “challenging their conventions, and using them as vehicles for his complex portraits of male heroes and anti-heroes.” Central to this critique are the ambiguous endings in many of Scorsese's films, in which “masculine redemption and restoration is not by any means a given.”

Because film scholars have often sought to establish a line of influence from Italian cinema in general, and neorealism in particular, to Scorsese's films, Laura Ruberto argues for the need to created an in-depth understanding of the latter movement to better understand that influence, and that in fact such an understanding will show in her view that “it is Scorsese's efforts as an activist and advocate for film on an international scale, rather than his cinematic and televisual productions, that best link him to the tenets of neorealism.”

Ruberto notes that critics have often seen the neorealist influence in Scorsese's formal style, what she describes as “stylistic characteristics that lend Scorsese's films a documentary-like feel…his use of true-to-life characters, on-location shooting, and his favoring of a hand-held camera.” Stories that the filmmaker has himself told of watching Italian films on television with his neighbors and family as a boy in New York have also contributed to the idea of their influence on his work.

But in fact Ruberto argues that it has been Scorsese's restoration work through the nonprofit organization he founded, the World Cinema Foundation (WCF), that has been most significant in demonstrating the influence of neorealism on him by helping to support a cinematic alternative to Hollywood cultural hegemony. She states:

A Personal Journey with Martin Scorsese through American MoviesMy Voyage to ItalyMy Voyage to ItalyA Personal JourneyA Personal Journey

The Age of InnocenceCape FearCasinoThe Last Temptation of ChristKundun

Gangs of New York and The Departed are the central focus of Lohr's analysis. He states that these two films show

the struggles of the earliest Irish to set foot on American shores; detailed their efforts to assimilate into the mainstream through methods legal, criminal and prejudicial; [and] compared and contrasted their pragmatic, ground-level Catholicism with the more spiritually inclined style practiced by Italian Americans.

In his analysis of two more Scorsese films, New York, New York (1977) and Casino, Lohr demonstrates that their portrayal of Irish American men and women both reinforce and subvert stereotypes of maternal nurturing and male irresponsibility and alcoholism. Lohr calls these representations of Irish identity in Scorsese's films a “valuable contribution to American cinematic ethnography.”

The Age of InnocenceThe Age of InnocenceMean StreetsRaging BullGoodFellas

GoodFellas

Alice Doesn't Live Here AnymoreItalianamerican

The BluesBoardwalk Empire

A Cinema of Loneliness

Kredell traces how his representation of the city “relies heavily upon the territoriality of urban space…divided and bounded…negotiated, contested, and occasionally transgressed.” Kredell shows how “much of the dramatic tension in Scorsese's narratives derives from the challenges to the settled spatial order of cities that these acts of transgression represent,” and that the constraints on movement such transgressions violate are predicated in large part in Scorsese's films on the notion that city space is raced, gendered, classed, and divided by culture.

New York Stories

Mean StreetsTaxi Driver

rockumentaryWoodstock

Mean StreetsGoodFellasCasinosceneggiatamac­chietta

Who's That Knocking at My DoorStreetsMean Streets

Mean StreetsTaxi DriverRaging BullGoodFellasThe Last Temptation of ChristHugoThe Last Temptation of Christ

Hugo

Mean StreetsTaxi DriverRaging BullGoodFellasMean StreetsMean StreetsMean Streets

Taxi Driver

Raging Bull

GoodFellasGoodFellas

GoodFellas

References

  1. Casillo, R. (2006) Gangster Priest: The Italian American Cinema of Martin Scorsese. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.
  2. Cavallero, J. (2011) Hollywood's Italian American Filmmakers. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press.
  3. Dougan, A. (2004) Martin Scorsese in the nineties. Martin Scorsese: A Journey. Mary Pat Kelly. New York: Thunder's Mouth Press, pp. xiii–xxi.
  4. Ebert, R. (2008) Scorsese. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.
  5. Gardaphe, F. (2006) From Wise Guys to Wise Men: The Gangster and Italian American Masculinities. New York: Routledge.
  6. Kelly, M.P. (2004) Martin Scorsese: A Journey. New York: Thunder's Mouth Press.
  7. Kolker, R. (2011) A Cinema of Loneliness: Penn, Kubrick, Coppola, Scorsese, Altman, Fincher. 4th edn. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
  8. Raymond, M. (May 2002) Martin Scorsese. Senses of Cinema. Online: http://sensesofcinema.com/2002/great-directors/scorsese/ (last accessed March 21, 2014).
  9. Raymond, M. (2013) Hollywood's New York: The Making of Martin Scorsese. Albany, NY: SUNY Press.
  10. Stern, L. (1995) The Scorsese Connection. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press.