Mean Streets (1973): Down These Mean Streets a Man Must Go

“You don’t make up for your sins in church. You do it in the streets. You do it at home. The rest is bullshit and you know it.” These are the opening words to auteur Martin Scorsese’s film, Mean Streets (1973), that would spark a career of films, changing American cinema forever.

PRODUCTION AND RELEASE

Upon its release, it was almost immediately met with praise for its portrayal of a gangster’s life in Little Italy, New York. Critics such as Pauline Kael, David Kher, and Roger Ebert fell in love with the film, as did audiences. The accuracy and grit was no surprise, as Scorsese modeled it after his own experiences growing up in similar circumstances. Though Scorsese had released two films prior to Mean Streets, this was the first one he had almost complete control over, and it showed. After the failure of Boxcar Bertha (1972), his friend, director John Cassavetes, coaxed Scorsese into revisiting the style of his first film, Who’s That Knocking at My Door (1968) because he believed that the style of that film had great promise. With co-writer Mardik Martin, he originally wrote the screenplay as a continuation of the pre-established characters in his first film. It was sent to producer Roger Corman, who said he would financially back the film if it were a blaxploitation movie. This idea was discarded when Warner Brothers offered to fund and distribute the film. With Producers E. Lee Perry and Jonathan T. Taplin, the film began production. Harvey Keitel was cast in the starring role of Charlie, after previously working with Scorsese in Who’s That Knocking. Robert De Niro was impressed with Scorsese’s work and, having also grown up in Little Italy, was cast as Johnny Boy. The film was released on 2 October 1972. It won four awards and was selected by the Library of Congress to be preserved in the National Film Registry in 1997.

PLOT AND STORY

The film opens with Charlie (Keitel), an Italian-American working in the lower ranks of the New York Mafia, waking up in his Little Italy apartment. He works as a collector for his uncle, Giovanni (Cesare Danova), a higher-up in the organization. Charlie is a conflicted Catholic, who believes that absolution of sin does not come through prayers such as “Our Fathers” or “Hail Marys,” but through physical pain and suffering. After heading to confession, the viewer is introduced to his friends, Tony (David Proval), the owner of a bar/club, Michael (Richard Romanus), a somewhat pathetic loan shark, and Johnny Boy (Robert De Niro), a reckless, self-destructive, and unstable debtor.

Johnny Boy owes money to Michael, yet continues to indulge himself by spending whatever he can get on amenities for himself. Making, little effort to conceal this from Michael, tensions rise. Charlie, being empathetic for those who cannot pay their debts, tries to keep the peace between the two parties until Johnny Boy can produce the money. Not only this, but Charlie feels a sense of loyalty to John. He is, perhaps, the only character in the whole film who feels this way. This is in part because he is in a illicit relationship with John’s epileptic cousin, Teresa (Amy Robinson). She is in love with Charlie, but Charlie refuses to indulge her in such romantic pursuits. His family ties and work are more important to him and Giovanni does not approve of her, for he sees her disability as serious character flaw. At the same time, he is conflicted, as he is attracted to a black dancer at Tony’s club. Any action on his behalf there would be greatly frowned upon as well.

Nearing the end of the film, Michael decides that he has waited long enough. At a party for a friend returning from service in the Vietnam war, he tells Charlie that Johnny Boy owes him upwards of three thousand dollars, and that it's time for him to pay. They agree on a meeting with the three of them to settle the dispute once and for all. After being late for the meeting and greatly insulting Michael, Johnny Boy is forced to run away with Charlie and Teresa. Michael pursues them in his car, finds them, and shoots Johnny Boy and Charlie, causing them to crash their car. Unable to reconcile any parts of his life, Charlie ends the film, stumbling from his destroyed automobile, a broken man, both physically and spiritually.

CRITICAL ANALYSIS

The film’s strength lies in its stunning visuals, thought-provoking dialogue, and, most importantly, in its characters. With so many characters full of depth, there are two important parts of Scorsese’s characterization that truly enrich the narrative: his twist on the myth of redemptive love, and his trademarked use of the sympathetic gangster and the anti hero.

The Myth of Redemptive Love. The myth of redemptive love is when a loving act or action, puts the person in danger, and subsequently redeems him. It is most often portrayed as saving the life, soul, or livelihood of another person by putting one’s own life at risk. This does not seem to directly apply to this film, as the protagonists of the story are never truly redeemed in the end and all end up punished for their actions. However, this is not the case. Keitel’s character goes through an arc that, at the end, resembles this myth more closely that one might think.

From the beginning of the film, it is established that these are not “good” characters. They are gangsters from the streets of New York who extort money out of people for their so-called services. Moreover, Charlie seems to be content with his state of being in the Mafia and even wants to take a larger role. He is not as guilty of some crimes as the rest of his friends, such as his uncle or Michael, so he seems more sympathetic, but he is not a hero either. This lays the groundwork for his needing to be redeemed. Now he needs a situation to redeem him.

This comes in two ways. One, Johnny Boy owes Michael a large sum of money. He is a somewhat sympathetic character as well, and just seems down on his luck. Maybe Charlie could be the hand that guides him to responsibility, as Charlie cares about Johnny Boy and loves him like a little brother. Two, Teresa and he are in a forbidden relationship. Charlie is not abusive, but rebukes her love and tries to convince himself that he is content with a physical relationship but is really in love with her. The stage is set for his love of both these characters to save him.

Near the climax of the film, Johnny Boy and Charlie are fighting in Teresa’s apartment which causes Teresa to have a seizure. Here, all of them are at their lowest points. After the men put aside their differences, they go to the meeting with Michael. Though it goes horribly wrong, this cements the action Charlie has to take. He, as well as the viewer, realizes that he has to take Johnny Boy away, at least until Michael calms down. This could kill Charlie and definitely involves sacrifice.

Though Teresa throws herself into the situation as well, somewhat breaking the formula, Charlie agrees to let her come along, accepting her love for him. In the car, all three of them are joking, and Charlie, for the first time, seems somewhat happy. If the film ended here, he would have been saved. Scorsese, however, added the tragic ending of the car chase and shooting. Some might argue that this shatters the formula, but it merely alters it. Up to that point, the myth and the narrative moved relatively together, making for a nice added spark of emotion to this gangster film.

The Sympathetic Gangster and the Anti Hero. Scorsese is known for this kind of character as it populates many of his films. From Ray Liotta in Goodfellas (1990), to Leonardo DiCaprio in The Departed (2006), these characters are a staple of Scorsese’s work. Keitel as Charlie, De Niro as Johnny Boy, and the others in Mean Streets are no exception. But what is it about this archetype that is so appealing?

Even back in the 1930s with characters like Rico (Edward G. Robinson) in Little Caesar (1931), this form of the anti hero has fascinated audiences. Perhaps it is that humans find a slightly flawed character more relatable than a perfect one. But to go as far as to make a criminal the hero of the film even though the audience sees him perform villainous deeds on screen is a move that requires a certain tastefulness and great direction. Martin Scorsese has both of these. On top of that, however, several other items are required to pull off the sympathetic gangster.

One of these is that the hero’s deeds cannot be worse than the deeds of those around him. This holds true for the character of Charlie. Though there are characters like Teresa who are never seen committing any major crimes, they are the background to Charlie, Michael, Tony, and Johnny Boy’s foreground. Characters like Michael are seen shooting people, and, with Tony, they steal from some teenagers. Charlie is the voice of reason. He always seems to be breaking up fights between people. When he starts them, it is always over something/someone he cares about, not something trivial.

The other item being that the character must be punished in some capacity for his/her wrongdoings, no matter how small. Throughout the film, Charlie subjects his right hand to a plethora of tortures, usually burning, and, at the end of the film, his right arm gets shot. What’s more, he constantly incurs the wrath of Michael in order to save Johnny Boy from the same fate. Usually the audience does not want to see the hero punished, so this is where the tastefulness and direction come into play as well as tight writing. The film cannot abuse the audience's emotions by constantly tormenting the characters without real cause. The punishments cannot be too severe or else they may seem indulgent. On the other hand, if they are not severe enough, the punishment will seem unnecessary and the character will seem too perfect. If the punishment falls somewhere in the middle, the character’s suffering is believable, but not enough to abuse the viewer. Martin Scorsese found this balance in his characters. The hero must seem to have morally right intentions. Raymond Chandler’s words in which the film’s title was based perfectly describe such a character; "But down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid."

CONCLUSION

Mean Streets is a truly brilliant film and a pivotal one to the evolution of one of the most important directors to date. It not only can be enjoyed on a base level, but as the formative film for his unique style. From the cinematography by Kent L. Wakeford to the writing by Scorsese and Martin, it shines as a great film and a work of art made successful with the still-relevant and relatable characters crafted by Scorsese. Its impacts will be felt for decades to come.