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| Created and Hosted by Ryan McNeil at The Matinee |
I have tried to watch Martin Scorsese's 1973 tale of sins and sinners, Mean Streets, before. I failed to make it through it. I think I might have been under the influence of something and fallen asleep. I was in college at the time after all. Anyhow, I did it right this time. And on first full viewing alone, this film stands as a movie that doesn't totally work for me, or maybe at all. It's there visually, and I mean really there. Let's say this: On reaction alone, when this movie works, it really works. When it doesn't, it really doesn't.
The big opposition for me comes with the backbone of this thing, the plot, or lack of plot. I like the simplicity: A small-time Little Italy tough named Charlie (Harvey Keitel) struggles with an unstable best friend, Johnny Boy (Robert De Niro), a secretive relationship with the epileptic Teresa (Amy Robinson), and, most importantly, his own demons, as driven by deep Catholic guilt. Charlie is on the up-and-up with made guy, Michael (Richard Romanus), and even with the higher-ups, including his uncle Giovanni (Cesare Danova), but the obstacles in his path and his compassionate demeanor keep him from the kind of success he thinks he wants.
