Taxi Driver (1976)

"Some day real rain will come and wash these scum off the streets."

What to say about Taxi Driver that hasn't been said already? That it's a towering cinematic study of loneliness and of the kind of dangerously alienated outsider who will one day explode horribly, that Robert De Niro's performance here is one of the greatest performances ever?

There's not much new to say about this justifiably acclaimed film, really. But I'll try.

Travis isn't just alienated and alone- he talks to lots of people but connects with none of them- he's stuck in a dead end job with no hope, probably a virgin, and left with nothing but his macho fantasies, his dislike of what he doesn't understand and his need to find people to whom he can feel superior. The taxi, with its separation from the passengers, is a fitting metaphor for Travis' disconnection from the world.

There are some superb performances from a young Jodie Foster and Harvey Keitel, but the film relies on De Niro as much as any production of Hamlet relies on the actor playing the Dane, and he's just as good here as any of the best screen performances in that role. It's something about his eyes, his delivery. He inhabits Travis, perhaps the most frightening character in cinema, a character who is wound up tight and inevitably going to unravel.

The film gives us a surprising and unexpected "happy" ending as Travis escapes in caught from his clumsy attempt at political assassination and instead ends up lauded as a fifteen minute hero for violently rescuing the twelve year old Iris from her pimp, but even this makes us uneasy. Travis' life is no better than before. He's snapped before and he'll snap again. We end the film with all the tension of a time bomb waiting to happen.

As usual for Scorsese we get a superb soundtrack and impeccable direction for this art film about working class alienation, which sounds almost Marxist for a Hollywood film. 

Freaky Friday (1976)

"Male chauvinist pig!"

This is one of two back-to-back old Disney films I will be blogging, mainly because we wanted them off our Sky Plus. They're both fascinating artefacts from another era, though, especially this one.

Obviously this is notable for featuring a very young Jodie Foster, but it also displays an instinctive slant towards gender roles that would never be seen again; phrases like the above quote are bandied about as a joke, but this is a world in which women stay at home to cook and clean, unless they are forced to work as secretaries because their husbands are out of work. It's a fascinating artefact of the social mores in 1970s America, perhaps all the more revealing in that this is a Disney film.

It works quite well as a comedy in spite of it's leisurely pace: the central conceit-another and a daughter switching bodies fortresses best left unexplained- is full of potential, and gives us a fascinating peek into what 1970s American high schools were like, with their marching bands and electric typewriters.

Everyone smokes. Annabel's dad reminds me of an American version of Reginald Perrin. This is the most 1970s film I have ever seen. 

The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

"Quid pro quo. Yes or no?"

This is another film from the shocking list of films-you-must-see-before-you-die that I hadn't fully seen before watching it for this blog. I hang my head in shame. And it's an excellent thriller. Perhaps I was expecting something artier, given all the Oscar nominations, but Anthony Hopkins' performance is certainly a work of art. And I'm glad this film was made in 1991, and not now: these days it would be in danger of falling into the niche of "torture porn". Well, "torture porn lite". Instead, plenty of mainstream filmgoers got to see Hopkins be magnificent.

Of course, we don't see him for a while, and his first appearance is a big event which is built up. Instead we follow Clarice, the film's actual protagonist, who suffers both class prejudice and acute gender prejudice in the very masculine world of the FBI. That Crawford is a right bastard.

Buffalo Bill, the actual villain, is a bit of a cartoon figure in contrast to the far more nuanced and interesting Hannibal Lecter, and hardly a positive Hollywood representation of a transsexual, but he serves perfectly well in driving the plot and the element of mystery in a plot sense. Meanwhile we, assuming Clarice's point of view, get to explore the psyche of Lecter, a mystery in a much more character-based sense, as she tries to get him to cooperate. 

Certainly, the relationship between them is fascinating. Clarice is used to being belittled on grounds of gender, but the wedge Lecter uses to keep her in her place is class, for he is a posh and cultured chap who quotes Marcus Aurelius and she is the daughter of a West Virginia coal miner. She is supposed to be the psychologist, but it is he who gets inside her psyche; indeed, the title of the film refers to her childhood trauma.

Hannibal is the only ultimate winner here, of course, gaining his freedom at the end, but he always appears to be the one in control on all the various mind games here: with Clarice, with the prison director, with the senator whose daughter is in the hands of Buffalo Bill, and indeed with Bill himself.

His escape is exhilarating to watch, being both fiendishly clever and bloody exciting viewing. Interestingly, his escape attempt doesn't come until after he's got Clarice to open up, which makes him seem even more in control.

It's surprising, though, how Lecter then vanishes from the film until the epilogue; contrary to popular belief he is not the protagonist in a film which is chiefly about Clarice's pursuit of Buffalo Bill and the gender issues of a film which concerns make violence to women, workplace misogyny and transsexualism. Great though Hopkins is, I was disappointed, perhaps unfairly due to the popular perception of the film, by his lack of screen time in this excellent thriller,

This is, of course, based the middle novel of a trilogy, and there is both a sequel and a prequel starring Hopkins to blog. -

And then there's a certain Brian Cox, who featured so prominently in yesterday's blog post...