Review of Mean Streets (1973) by Mike B — 22 Aug 2009

Mean Streets was raw, gritty, and in-your-face. Marty, using simple camera techniques (likely thanks to a shoestring budget and the fact that it was made in 1973) such as handheld shots, provided an almost documentary-style to the filmmaking in this movie, effecting an uncompromised realism. The darkness and the danger threatening to consume Charlie and Johnny Boy on a daily basis were palpable; there is no question that their chosen line of work is hazardous and dirty.

Yet, the film boasted a first look at trademarks seemingly characteristic of all of Marty's films. First, there was a quirky soundtrack of 50s and 60s doo-wop and other straight rock-n-roll, which was apparently gleaned from Marty's own record collection (scratches and all). Charlie almost becomes something of a character study, another primary focus on redemption and guilt. His thoughts are highlighted with voiceover narration (provided by Marty, incidentally), and the soul of the film centers on Charlie's internal struggles to reconcile his place in the grand scheme of his environment.

This film also represents the first of a long series of DeNiro and Scorsese partnerships, and both he and Keitel offered very real, very engaging performances. Johnny Boy, in particular, seemed to be a precursor to Tommy in GoodFellas, or on a more basic level, an inspiration for the character of Bender in The Breakfast Club. He knows he is in trouble, he know he is only making it worse for himself, but this knowledge only seems to fuel an attitude of self-defeat and further bad decisions and defiance in an effort to seem brave. DeNiro clearly zeroed in on this quality and played it to his usual perfection. Charlie and Johnny Boy's partnership is the most interesting focus of the film; the fact that Charlie feels compelled to attempt to help Johnny Boy out of his ever declining predicament as a means of finding redemption is the ultimate tragedy of the piece.

In many ways, Mean Streets seems to represent an early draft of the formula upon which Marty draws for his other gangster films; a blueprint that he pulls out for consideration whenever he revisits that world. Formula creators are pioneering, naturally, but they also represent a time when the formula was imperfect, lacking the tweaks and improvements that come with the natural evolution of a director's (or other type of filmmaker's) filmmaking. For Mean Streets, as real and as poetic as Charlie's struggles ultimately become, particularly in lieu of the grisly ending of this piece, the biggest flaw of this film is that the viewing audience is never provided any reason to care for Charlie, or Johnny Boy, or anyone else. That lack of connection is less jarring once the Teresa character enters the picture, as she gives Charlie a softer, more human dimension. Otherwise, the film, as it begins, feels like its making excuses for the Charlie character rather than giving the viewer all of his dimensions and letting the viewer decide for him or herself whether that redemption about which Charlie is so obsessed is actually deserved. As a result, Charlie's dimensions (and he's really the character of import; Johnny Boy and Teresa are more plot devices than flesh-and-blood characters themselves) did not really take full shape until near the end, and by then, it was too late to care about him or anyone else in the film, for that matter.

That's not to say that Mean Streets did not have some great points.The performances were good, and Marty's great filmmaking style clearly emerges in this film; it just wasn't the revelatory experience that some people have touted it as.