Perhaps Scorsese has covered a wider range: with a little bit of bending one might be able to argue that a Sarte's existential outlaw-as-hero (who, in his purest form, must be a loner) and Travis Bikel could at least inhabit the same temporal space. At the same time, like Coppola or even Sergio Leone, Scorsese has also given us superb portraits of individuals who function within a larger framework that is labeled as criminal, but which are as integral to the fabric of civilization as the systems that produce its food, or water, or shelter.
Using the familiar framework of good-cop-with-soul-in-torment-becomes-rogue-vigilante-avenger Fred Carpenter has done something extraordinary, and perhaps unique in film: deconstructed the anti-hero archetype at the level of its core essence and then re-assembled it as a darkly humorous, absurdist drama. Nothing in the film can be taken at face value, and Carpenter makes this clear from the hilariously spasmodic opening sequence right through to the very tail end of the sluggish credit crawl.
Instead of veering too far into pure academic slush, here are a few exemplars of these inherent, almost slapstick flourishes:
If you attempt to demonstrate your courage and deadly-serious intent by confronting your nemesis on his home turf to tell him something while "looking him in the eye," you can grimace as much as you like, but it just doesn't work if he's wearing dark sunglasses at the time.
Mobsters who sit at sidewalk tables and sip Snapple instead of espresso are probably not too serious a threat. However, it's still not a great idea to make a mobster the beneficiary of a million dollar policy on your life, and worse still to let them know you've actually done so. It is just a bit more evidence that Darwin was right.
From the Fred & Wilma Flintstone Line of DIY Furnishing Tips: A 2x2 stack of cinderblocks four or five layers high are an excellent makeshift table in an otherwise empty commercial building, but you must decide which briefcase to place on it beforehand.
If you are shooting on location at, or near, a beach, and a natural rainbow appears nicely framed through an open door, it's kind of a shame not to take advantage of it.
It will take many more decades to fully assess the catastrophic, insidious damage done by James Cameron's Titanic (1997), but the silliness factor alone is already measured in megatons.
If you jump off a roof, you can float to the ground in slow motion if you position your arms in just the right way. In fact, you can even defy the law of gravity entirely if you dress in black leather, adopt a suitably ridiculous fashion concept, strike a fatuous pose, wear sunglasses indoors and at night, and are not Hugo Weaving. (It will take centuries to fully assess the catastrophic, insidious damage done by The Wachowski Brothers. Chances are that the damage is irreversible, like entropic thermal conduction, or the pressure induced delta-to-alpha phase transition of gallium (<=4.0 molar%) stabilized plutonium alloy, but no one now alive will ever know.)
It's rare to see martial arts, tai chi and beer wings all together in one plump, cuddly, villainous package.
It's rarer still to have your heroine basically be a serial killer tacitly sanctioned by the police.
Your chances of being an efficient, effective serial killer are increased by choosing targets who are so stupid they either stand still, waiting to be pulverized, or insist on playing the gentleman and going to get the bomb out of the car themselves. (Of course, if beer wings had gone flying through the inferno like De Niro in Casino (1995) it could have been truly great cinema. Then again, maybe a subtle, low-key approach would have worked better. Sam Peckinpah, for example, would simply have had someone's ears torn off with vice-grips...'tis a poser.)
"You are not Charles Bronson in a dress!" I rarely invoke The Creator, but omfg.
Some police officers wear plain clothes but only have one tie...and no dresses.
Implants can sometimes make a woman's breasts appear ridiculous, or even downright grotesque. Of course, it's all merely a matter of taste.
Never trust an accountant whose back office wall consists of the rear fire door, and whose desk is under the circuit-breaker panel. That his computer doesn't work either should be another red flag.
Always buy your insurance and luncheon meats from ground-level, store front brokerages.
Some people allow their spouse to manage the money, even though they buy McYachts and million dollar life insurance policies while the rent-to-own furniture is about to be repossessed. (A tad more Darwinism-in-action here.)
It's not unusual for a thirty year old woman to have a twenty-five year old biological daughter.
One may recover from a through-and-through gunshot wound in the region of the right kidney by taking a good, long snooze on a sofa.
If a young, black male makes an appearance anywhere in your film, be sure to stick a basketball in his hands, but there is no need to put up a hoop. (DARE! To keep kids off drugs!)
If you are standing in your driveway and some rusty old Detroit rolling iron careens in followed by the driver crawling out and collapsing in front of you, dribble.
You simply cannot have too many scenes of cars being badly parked. (cf. Terror from the Year 5000 (1958), Hobgoblins (1988))
One car. Four wheels. Two hubcaps. One side. You do the math.
Scorsese's lyrical tracking shot through the kitchens versus pizza ovens. Yes, pizza ovens.
When in doubt, blow everything up. (It always worked for Terry Gilliam in his Monty Python days, many long years ago.)
It would probably be entertaining and informative to see some of the other entries at the 2001 Long Island International Film Expo.
XYZ
Using the familiar framework of good-cop-with-soul-in-torment-becomes-rogue-vigilante-avenger Fred Carpenter has done something extraordinary, and perhaps unique in film: deconstructed the anti-hero archetype at the level of its core essence and then re-assembled it as a darkly humorous, absurdist drama. Nothing in the film can be taken at face value, and Carpenter makes this clear from the hilariously spasmodic opening sequence right through to the very tail end of the sluggish credit crawl.
Instead of veering too far into pure academic slush, here are a few exemplars of these inherent, almost slapstick flourishes:
If you attempt to demonstrate your courage and deadly-serious intent by confronting your nemesis on his home turf to tell him something while "looking him in the eye," you can grimace as much as you like, but it just doesn't work if he's wearing dark sunglasses at the time.
Mobsters who sit at sidewalk tables and sip Snapple instead of espresso are probably not too serious a threat. However, it's still not a great idea to make a mobster the beneficiary of a million dollar policy on your life, and worse still to let them know you've actually done so. It is just a bit more evidence that Darwin was right.
From the Fred & Wilma Flintstone Line of DIY Furnishing Tips: A 2x2 stack of cinderblocks four or five layers high are an excellent makeshift table in an otherwise empty commercial building, but you must decide which briefcase to place on it beforehand.
If you are shooting on location at, or near, a beach, and a natural rainbow appears nicely framed through an open door, it's kind of a shame not to take advantage of it.
It will take many more decades to fully assess the catastrophic, insidious damage done by James Cameron's Titanic (1997), but the silliness factor alone is already measured in megatons.
If you jump off a roof, you can float to the ground in slow motion if you position your arms in just the right way. In fact, you can even defy the law of gravity entirely if you dress in black leather, adopt a suitably ridiculous fashion concept, strike a fatuous pose, wear sunglasses indoors and at night, and are not Hugo Weaving. (It will take centuries to fully assess the catastrophic, insidious damage done by The Wachowski Brothers. Chances are that the damage is irreversible, like entropic thermal conduction, or the pressure induced delta-to-alpha phase transition of gallium (<=4.0 molar%) stabilized plutonium alloy, but no one now alive will ever know.)
It's rare to see martial arts, tai chi and beer wings all together in one plump, cuddly, villainous package.
It's rarer still to have your heroine basically be a serial killer tacitly sanctioned by the police.
Your chances of being an efficient, effective serial killer are increased by choosing targets who are so stupid they either stand still, waiting to be pulverized, or insist on playing the gentleman and going to get the bomb out of the car themselves. (Of course, if beer wings had gone flying through the inferno like De Niro in Casino (1995) it could have been truly great cinema. Then again, maybe a subtle, low-key approach would have worked better. Sam Peckinpah, for example, would simply have had someone's ears torn off with vice-grips...'tis a poser.)
"You are not Charles Bronson in a dress!" I rarely invoke The Creator, but omfg.
Some police officers wear plain clothes but only have one tie...and no dresses.
Implants can sometimes make a woman's breasts appear ridiculous, or even downright grotesque. Of course, it's all merely a matter of taste.
Never trust an accountant whose back office wall consists of the rear fire door, and whose desk is under the circuit-breaker panel. That his computer doesn't work either should be another red flag.
Always buy your insurance and luncheon meats from ground-level, store front brokerages.
Some people allow their spouse to manage the money, even though they buy McYachts and million dollar life insurance policies while the rent-to-own furniture is about to be repossessed. (A tad more Darwinism-in-action here.)
It's not unusual for a thirty year old woman to have a twenty-five year old biological daughter.
One may recover from a through-and-through gunshot wound in the region of the right kidney by taking a good, long snooze on a sofa.
If a young, black male makes an appearance anywhere in your film, be sure to stick a basketball in his hands, but there is no need to put up a hoop. (DARE! To keep kids off drugs!)
If you are standing in your driveway and some rusty old Detroit rolling iron careens in followed by the driver crawling out and collapsing in front of you, dribble.
You simply cannot have too many scenes of cars being badly parked. (cf. Terror from the Year 5000 (1958), Hobgoblins (1988))
One car. Four wheels. Two hubcaps. One side. You do the math.
Scorsese's lyrical tracking shot through the kitchens versus pizza ovens. Yes, pizza ovens.
When in doubt, blow everything up. (It always worked for Terry Gilliam in his Monty Python days, many long years ago.)
It would probably be entertaining and informative to see some of the other entries at the 2001 Long Island International Film Expo.
XYZ
