Reaction to Mean Streets ::

Reaction Paper to Mean Streets Mean Streets' greatest influence in American cinema was not on directors or scriptwriters (though its influence there was considerable) but rather on actors. The film has Harvey Keitel (as Charlie) at its center, whose solidity and slight dullness as an actor keeps the film from spinning off into total anarchy; but it is Robert De Niro's Johnny Boy (Charlie's wild, self-destructive friend whom he looks out for with all the obsessiveness of an older brother) that gives the film its charge. Johnny Boy dances and gyrates and leaps and spins about the edges of the film, continually threatening to take it into and out of chaos (which he finally does). De Niro's performance, which remains as hilarious and breath-taking as ever - was a revelation at the time. De Niro took naturalistic, "method" acting to new highs, and his Johnny Boy is possibly the very first performance of its kind. It's a genuine portrayal of a street punk whose charm and obnoxiousness are almost uncannily intertwined - you can't despise Johnny Boy, but you can't respect him much, either. You just have to love him. It's easy enough to imagine Charlie's frustration over this kid - De Niro's work here adds depth and veracity to Keitel's, and the two actors work so well together that some of their scenes ? like the one they have together in Taxi Driver - have an almost hallucinatory buzz to them. Aside from its acting, the other major influence which Mean Streets had upon American film-makers was through it's use of a rock n' roll soundtrack (almost perfectly integrated with the images), and in its depiction of a new kind of screen violence. Unexpected, volatile, explosive and wholly senseless, yet, for all that, undeniably cinematic violence. The way in which Scorsese blends these two - the rock and roll and the violence - shows that he understood instinctively, better than anyone else until then, that cinema (or at least this kind of cinema, the kinetic, visceral kind) and rock n' roll are both expressions of revolutionary instincts, and that they are as inherently destructive as they are creative. This simple device - brutal outbreaks of violence combined with an upbeat soundtrack - has been taken up by both the mainstream cinema at large and by many individual `auteurs', all of whom are in Scorsese's debt - Stone and Tarantino coming at once to mind. Reaction to Mean Streets :: Reaction Paper to Mean Streets Mean Streets' greatest influence in American cinema was not on directors or scriptwriters (though its influence there was considerable) but rather on actors. The film has Harvey Keitel (as Charlie) at its center, whose solidity and slight dullness as an actor keeps the film from spinning off into total anarchy; but it is Robert De Niro's Johnny Boy (Charlie's wild, self-destructive friend whom he looks out for with all the obsessiveness of an older brother) that gives the film its charge. Johnny Boy dances and gyrates and leaps and spins about the edges of the film, continually threatening to take it into and out of chaos (which he finally does). De Niro's performance, which remains as hilarious and breath-taking as ever - was a revelation at the time. De Niro took naturalistic, "method" acting to new highs, and his Johnny Boy is possibly the very first performance of its kind. It's a genuine portrayal of a street punk whose charm and obnoxiousness are almost uncannily intertwined - you can't despise Johnny Boy, but you can't respect him much, either. You just have to love him. It's easy enough to imagine Charlie's frustration over this kid - De Niro's work here adds depth and veracity to Keitel's, and the two actors work so well together that some of their scenes ? like the one they have together in Taxi Driver - have an almost hallucinatory buzz to them. Aside from its acting, the other major influence which Mean Streets had upon American film-makers was through it's use of a rock n' roll soundtrack (almost perfectly integrated with the images), and in its depiction of a new kind of screen violence. Unexpected, volatile, explosive and wholly senseless, yet, for all that, undeniably cinematic violence. The way in which Scorsese blends these two - the rock and roll and the violence - shows that he understood instinctively, better than anyone else until then, that cinema (or at least this kind of cinema, the kinetic, visceral kind) and rock n' roll are both expressions of revolutionary instincts, and that they are as inherently destructive as they are creative. This simple device - brutal outbreaks of violence combined with an upbeat soundtrack - has been taken up by both the mainstream cinema at large and by many individual `auteurs', all of whom are in Scorsese's debt - Stone and Tarantino coming at once to mind.