New York, New York

In the delirium of V-J Day, saxophonist Jimmy Doyle (Robert De Niro) cavorts around New York trying to scrounge an audition, and hoping to celebrate the occasion by getting a woman into bed. He meets and is rejected by singer Francine Evans (Liza Minelli). Subsequent chance encounters lead to friendship, love, marriage, family responsibilities, success, stress, estrangement and separation.

Scorsese pays a reverential homage (though at times he sends them up) to the MGM musicals of the 40s and 5os; some of the many films with which he would have grown up. There are references to Singin In The Rain, On The Town, Band Wagon and some of the sets are reminiscent of the films of Vincente Minelli, Liza's father. But this is not just recycled material, Scorsese is too respectful for that, for he blends the pastiche with familiar street smart psychology. There are definitely similarities (though we shouldn't necessarily look for them) between Doyle and the self-destructive fervour and instabilities of Jake La Motta or Travis Bickle. The predictability of the narrative (fall-in-love, breakdown, separate) occurs unusually within the musical numbers rather than the domestic set-pieces: Jimmy's frustrations are taken out on bar-tables during rehearsals, Francine's rebuff is made evident when she is driven back by the music in Jimmy's Harlem night club.

Scorsese's technique is as usual faultless; during certain set-pieces, notably the opening victory-ball, he follows the notion of composed film created by Michael Powell with breezy camera movements matched by close up intensity. New York, New York is usually dismissed as a failure in the Scorsese repertoire, but it certainly deserves to be seen.

Review by Stephen Cox
Taken from EUFS Programme 1995-96