|
Mister Director Man Scorsese, a lower Manhattan native,
read Herbert Ashbury’s 1928 book, Gangs Of New York,
in 1970. And thus began the 32-year saga of the making of
his epic drama of the same name. Now, it’d be pretty hard
for a film with such a production schedule and three official
screenwriters (and countless unofficial script editors who
wrote the film over a period of two decades) to live up to
expectations.
Thus, it is a bit anticlimactic. Don’t get me wrong; it’s
decently entertaining and probably very well-researched historically
(don’t quote me on that though). It doesn’t drag too much
through its near-three hour running time. But it doesn’t soar
either.
Basically, Amsterdam Vallon (DiCaprio) is a young
Irish American orphan plotting secret revenge on the murderer
of his father, portrayed briefly by Liam Neeson. The
murderer, Bill the Butcher (Day-Lewis) is a nativist,
opposed to immigration and willing to butcher anyone who gets
in his way. Then there’s the girl, Jenny Everdeane (Diaz),
a sly pickpocket who develops an overly idealistic relationship
with Amsterdam before revealing her formulaic past affair
with Bill.
Set in 1863 NYC, amid the influx of Irish (and other, apparently
less filmworthy immigrants) and Civil War draft riots, Gangs
Of New York is without doubt a grand and beautiful film
with brilliant sets, costumes, effects, and talent.
Oh, the talent. The three stars are among my favorites working
today. The director is amazing; the writers are accomplished—one
wrote Schindler’s List for God’s sake! Yet somehow
it doesn’t gel. Too many writers in the kitchen? Too many
cooks in the production? Likely.
—Michelle Fajkus
--------------------------
Another Rating: ** (2) out of 5
What is this world coming to? Steven Spielberg makes
a movie I actually enjoy (Catch Me If You Can) and
Martin Scorsese lets me down.
As a young boy, Amsterdam Vallon (DiCaprio) witnessed
a brutal street war between native-born Americans, led by
Butcher Bill Cutting (Day-Lewis), and Irish immigrants,
led by Amsterdam’s father, Priest Vallon (Neeson).
This slaughter, presented in shots that streak through slo-mo
to a stop, is accompanied by weird distracting percussion
music, like Irish tribal techno or something. Butcher Bill
crosses the field of battle—a commons in New York’s Five Points—and
kills Priest Vallon. The grief-stricken son takes up his father’s
weapon to attack, but is overpowered. And does Bill kill the
kid? He does not. Young Amsterdam is then hauled away to an
orphan’s institution, where he spends the next decade or so
outwardly compliant but inwardly seething and, like a young
Vito Corleone, plotting to avenge his father’s death. By 1862,
he is old enough to leave the orphanage, and of course he
returns to Five Points and insinuates himself into Bill’s
gang, coming as close as anyone might to entering into Bill’s
warm regard.
That’s about it. Will he avenge his father’s death, or will
he be co-opted and become a company man for Bill? This isn’t
the first movie you’ve been to: What do you think?
There’s loads of atmosphere, generated by the no doubt meticulously
researched sets and period slang, and cute little touches
like the American eagle in Bill’s glass eye. There are also
buckets of blood and rivers of gore, fitting considering the
non-stop killing that goes on. The borough is as much an abattoir
as Bill’s butcher shop is. Scorsese has never been shy about
showing us the violence, and the rarity of gunplay in this
setting and the profession of one of the leads allows him
ample creative space for innovative impalings, guttings, slashings,
and general edged-weapon gruesomeness. There’s also a girl,
Jenny Everdeane, played by the woefully miscast Cameron
Diaz. Yes, Daniel Day-Lewis is a great actor, but then
the role of Bill the Butcher is a “great actor” role, he’s
such a dominating character. It’s all simultaneously just
too much and not enough. We’ve seen enough stories of this
kind to be able to write a goodly part of it ourselves, but
we couldn’t make it compelling. Neither, unfortunately, could
Mssrs. Cocks, Zaillian, and Lonergan.
What is compelling about Gangs Of New York is the
history. When Boss Tweed (a rather plummy Broadbent)
is on the screen, the story crackles. And the last 30 or 40
minutes, dealing with the Conscription Act and the draft riots,
are downright riveting. That’s the problem, in a nutshell.
The stuff that deals with the times is gripping. The larger
part of the movie, dealing with the main characters and their
conflict, is not.
—Roxanne Bogucka
|
While we would never encourage anyone to destroy a video... 
