How to Knit an American Patchwork Film: Why Dream Projects Are Best Realized in Dreams.
A Review/Ponderance of Gangs of New York by Michael Meyer

Yep, it’s on everyone’s lips but they’re too afraid to say it. I’ll be thrown in the gulag for slander, but let me be one of the first: Gangs of New York was good, but not that good. To be true, this is a hard comment to come by. This isn’t your average “let’s slight the big Oscar contender” rant. This Hollywood darling film has one up on most Hollywood darling films. This happens to be the dream project of one of America’s (not necessarily Hollywood’s) most prolific and exciting directors of all time, and high in the running for absolute tops of his era. Martin Scorcese. All I can say is goddamn. Even the less regarded movies off his resume are pillars of filmmaking by which to be entertained and schooled. But even this artist, this magnate cannot escape one of the most soul-crushing truths about dream projects: You shouldn’t ever make them. Or if you do, never finish them. Why not? Can’t the world benefit from having cinema gods release stuff that’s so personal that it by sheer logic should be considered one of the world’s all time greatest films? Sure, it benefits, but not in the way you probably think. But first, the movie itself....

Gangs of New York was a great film in many respects. It had a visual texture that is truly Scorcese. He definitely created a color and vibrance that is only outdone by one or two of his previous films. It’s absolutely beautiful. From everything from the reeking caverns of the Dead Rabbits to the lush dwellings of Boss Tweed, the backdrop couldn’t be more rich and alive and the atmosphere...wow....it’s Sergio Leone. It’s an Italian western with dirty antiheros vs even dirtier villains set against an urban version of Leone’s west which coincidentally is dirtying up another part of the nation at the same time. The social commentary was very poignant as well. Though at times grossly misplaced, Scorcese’s portrayal of the political climate really gives you an impression as to why everything is and has to be the way it is. Hell, he summed up the immigrant’s participation in the Civil War historically, emotionally, and totally in one shot (SEE: The crane shot of the immigrants getting off the boat and being registered as a citizen/soldier. A textbook shot that should be picked apart in classrooms).

So what could possibly go wrong, you say? Well, little things and one big thing. First a few little things starting with Cameron Diaz and Leonardo DiCaprio. Before I dog them, however, keep in mind what they have to play against...Daniel Day Lewis. WOOOOOOWWWW!!! The Butcher tops the all time list of intriguing characters in film. The emersion of Mr. Lewis into this character is so unbelievably pitch perfect it’s disturbing. This guy doesn’t need awards for performance, he deserves lavish parades and a slew of nubile virgins to serve as a breadcrumb trail to highest heaven when he dies. So, you have this earth shatteringly good performance by an astounding performer and, as if the performance wasn’t great on its’ own, the C- performances by DiCaprio and Diaz will sure elevate it even more. Diaz. Huh? What’s she doing in this movie? I’ll tell you what she‘s doing....affecting 15 different accents at a time and in the meantime, hindering a fairly good performance at the expense of getting the tinge of all these accents right. DiCaprio. Sorry, don’t buy it. This guy has no grit. His velveteen skin seems to pierce and sop up any trace of dirt and grime like some kind of alien reflex, in performance and appearance. He does have intensity, sure, but his demeanor and carriage negate that in convincing me he came from the absolute asshole of existence to seek revenge for his father’s death. You can call these personal hang-ups and unfair judgment calls on a Hollywood pretty boy, but be honest and tell me that these things don’t matter when you’re talking about the effectiveness of a film. These are Hollywood casting decisions, not ones made out of logic and effectiveness. Or maybe these were great decisions and everyone turned in great performances but were unable to dethrone Lewis even for a second so I could pay attention to them. In the end, it pales in comparison to the real problem with the film....the complete lack of focus.

Now here comes the part about dream projects and why you shouldn’t do them. To illustrate, I’ll relate one of my experiences. While trying to finish a script I’d been working on for a few years, I decided to put together a CD of all the songs I truly wanted to use in the film as a way to get me in the mood to write. I thought since the songs also corresponded with scenes, I could almost write the structure around the sequence of this pseudo-soundtrack. So I did and sat down to write. But as I listened, I noticed something starkly wrong. All these songs illustrate gobs about the story and characters, but don’t fit together at all. This CD was not a story in music, but rather a scrapbook of ideas, all good, all very effective, but not at all a cohesive unit. And that was the problem at the heart of Gangs of New York.

Gangs of New York is a patchwork film. A collection of ideas that when put together create a semi-cohesive, very astonishing but not quite altogether film. All of a sudden, traces of things that were explored in 1978 were in the same scene as 1988 but one thing didn’t quite fit with the other but you want both of them in. And THAT is probably the worst problem I can imagine with making a film like this: You have all this great stuff that you all want but don’t quite fit. It reminds me of a line from the Simpsons (don’t worry....I’ll never quote from this show again, but bear with me), where Homer tells the waiter of a fancy restaurant to serve him the restaraunt’s finest food with it’s 2nd finest food and the waiter says “Lobsters stuffed with tacos. You got it.” Am I being presumptuous? Very. There could have been huge brainstorming sessions where Martin selflessly gave up huge chunks of his notebook to make this film good and to flow well. But I’m not the only one who feels that this film may have been a lot better had their not been so many random elements. All of a sudden we’re in the crux of the main conflict..then we’re going to battle photographs and narration about the period....then there’s the huge Deux ex Machina ending. It follows a zigzag pattern that, though not completely random, is a bit jarring and takes away from the progression of the story.

But I think I’ll stop there. Because really I’m not the one who should be talking. I was put off by this movie for the same reason I love Bringing Out the Dead. It’s a collection of amazing visual, performance and narrative elements that even though they may not make for the best movie, the sum of their parts far exceed even the best of what most movies have to offer.

(NOTE: To expound on the ideas presented in this review, 2/3 of this review was written in mid-January 2003 and finished in late March 2003 as a means to explore how time can derail ideas...and because I’m very very lazy.)

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