Jump to content
Forum Cinema em Cena
rubysun

Martin Scorsese

Qual é o melhor filme dirigido por Martin Scorsese?  

61 members have voted

  1. 1. Qual é o melhor filme dirigido por Martin Scorsese?

    • Quem Bate à Minha Porta?
      0
    • Caminhos Perigosos
      2
    • Alice Não Mora Mais Aqui
      0
    • Taxi Driver
      44
    • Touro Indomável
      20
    • O Rei da Comédia
      0
    • Depois de Horas
      4
    • A Última Tentação de Cristo
      4
    • Os Bons Companheiros
      19
    • Cabo do Medo
      1
    • Cassino
      9
    • Outro
      4


Recommended Posts

Scorsese é mesmo um diretor brilhante. Atualmente, são poucos os diretores que possuem um controle estético e narrativo tão excepcional quanto o seu. Seus filmes são verdadeiras aulas de cinema: enquadramentos e movimentos de câmera, edição, trilha-sonora... tudo em magistral sincronia. Uma pena que, em seus últimos trabalhos, as produtoras/distribuidoras tenham se preocupado mais em tentar transformá-lo em vencedor do Oscar, do que em distribuir seus filmes de forma sincera (convenhamos, "Gangues de Nova York", apesar de não ser tão ruim quanto alguns falam, não merecia jamais todas aquelas indicações). Enfim, tentarei montar um Top-5 de seus filmes (nem precisaria dizer qual meu preferido, não é?)

 

1. Taxi Driver

2. Os Bons Companheiros

3. Touro Indomável

4. Cabo do Medo

5. Depois de Horas

 

"Depois de Horas", na verdade, não mereceria entrar em um top-5 do diretor, eu sei, mas eu acho um maravilhoso exemplo de humor-negro moderno e inteligente e, levando para o lado pessoal, é um filme que me diverte mais e mais à cada revisão.

 

Em tempo: os que menos gostei, em sua filmografia, foram "Kundun", "Cassino" e "Gangues de Nova York".

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Pois é, eu tenho notado que sou o único a não achar "Cassino" uma obra-prima... Para mim, apesar de ser um filme que contenha as principais caracteristicas de Scorsese, possui uma narrativa um pouco atropelada, cansativa. Tanta coisa acontece em tão pouco tempo, que o roteiro acaba soando um pouco superficial, os personagens não se desenvolvem, e o filme perde muito por isso. Além do mais, é excessivamente ambicioso e não consegue transformar essa ambiciosidade em qualidade. Colocando-o lado a lado, por exemplo, da obra-prima "Os Bons Companheiros" (para mim o melhor filme do gênero já feito), o filme empalidece muito. Mas, mesmo assim, é um bom filme, embora eu, particularmente, tenha me decepcionado um pouco com ele (talvez ele mereça uma revisão...quem sabe?).

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

A Personal Journey: The Films of Martin Scorsese

by Anna, Ari, John, Lons, Scott, and Yuki

 

Part 2: 1978 - 1990

The Last Waltz (1978)

 

by Scott

I

should start out by saying that I barely knew anything about The Band

going into this film. I was negative seven years old when their final

performance (the subject of this film) took place. Despite the fact

that I consider myself to be relatively knowledgeable about all kinds

of rock and roll, they're one of those classic rock groups that I

suppose I just hadn't gotten around to discovering until now. I knew

they were responsible for the songs "The Weight" and "Look Out

Cleveland", the latter of which only came to be known by me because I

was born and raised in Cleveland. The only other information I had was

that Scorsese directed a concert film about them.. So, the fact that I

can achieve such a high level of enjoyment from viewing a documentary

of this important moment in rock history is a real testament to the

power of direct cinema.

scorseselastwaltz.jpg

The premise is quite basic. In 1978, The Band decided to call it quits

after playing together for about 16 years. In one of the best efforts

to go out in style that I've ever seen, they assembled a delightfully

celebratory farewell performance including a staggering amount of

legendary guests such as Van Morrison, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Muddy

Waters, Bob Dylan, and more. Martin Scorsese, who was at the time more

or less a legend in the making after Taxi Driver, showed up with his

crew to document the event. The principal cinematographer was Michael

Chapman (Raging Bull, Taxi Driver), who was aided by other fantastic

DP's such as Laslo Kovacs and Vilmos Zsigmond. Even today, their

footage of the concert ranks up there with the best and is absolutely

wonderful to watch. In between performances, Scorsese interviews

members of The Band as they share insightful reflections about their

careers and the tough, yet rewarding times spent on the road.

All members of The Band play with such flawless precision and passion

throughout the show that one truly gets the sense that they are playing

like there is no tomorrow. Their special guests seem to feed off of

that energy as well, leaving us with some memorable performances. When

everyone comes back on stage at the end to perform a mind-blowing

rendition of Dylan's "I Shall Be Released," it's a surprisingly

resonant climax, a joyously hopeful swan song to The Band's career.

I never thought I would get this much out of a concert film, especially

one in which I knew so little about the music act going in. Scorsese

manages to find something much deeper and more transcendent in the

material than one would expect. This might be mildly far-fetched, but I

believe that the film finds a way to work as a depiction of what one

should aspire to accomplish in life. Do something that you love and do

it with all the passion that you can. Play that "instrument" as if

there isn't going to be another day left to play it. Surround yourself

with people who share that passion with you and are just as inspiring

to you as you are to them. Do this for as long as you can before it

gets to you, then go out in a blaze of glory.

Raging Bull (1980)

 

by Anna Pulley

 

 

 

“So gimme a stage

 

Where this bull here can rage

 

And though I can fight

 

I’d much rather recite.

 

That’s entertainment.”

 

--Jake La Motta

 

 

 

Never has the eroticization of violence as the crux of masculinity been

more prevalent than in the male boxing film. Shot in black and white so

that it would stand out from the eight other boxing films that hit

Hollywood in 1980, Scorsese’s Raging Bull is a testament to the rise

and cataclysmic fall of world middleweight boxing champion Jake La

Motta, played by Robert De Niro. Almost stoic in its brutality, Raging

Bull offers a glimpse into the world of a first-generation,

Italian-American whose fixation with violence and jealousy, both in and

out of the ring, ultimately lead to his destruction. The inception of

the film began when Scorsese was recovering from a cocaine addiction,

which makes La Motta’s story, his battle scars and injurious

inclinations, particularly relevant to Scorsese’s own struggles.

scorseseraging.jpg

 

 

 

Part of Scorsese’s brilliance and originality in the genre of the male

boxing film lies in his critique of the dominant structures of

masculinity and the devastating effects of their abuses. In the end,

the Raging Bull is reduced to a pathetic, overweight womanizer reciting

bad poetry in a nightclub. As Judith Halberstam notes in Female

Masculinity, “The power of the punch has been replaced by the power of

the punch line, and for the male fighter, that is no power at all”

(275). In excruciating, slow-motion sequences and close-range blows,

Scorsese deconstructs the masochism inherent in our cultural

conceptions of masculinity, portraying the annihilated male body as

spectacle and as a locus for vulnerability. Though La Motta tries to

project his masculinity as impenetrable, his humanity comes through

only when he allows himself to be vulnerable. This is illustrated in

the scene where he throws a fight and is crying in his manager’s arms,

in his constant obsession with his weight and appearance (a

stereotypically feminine trait) and when he tries to reconcile his

relationship with Joey, who remains unforgiving. These are some of the

only instances where La Motta can be seen as sympathetic and human,

which is also paralleled by the fact that he is consistently referred

to as an “animal” by both his friends and enemies. In the prison scene,

after he beats himself into a frenzy, he repeats “I’m not an animal.

I’m not an animal” between bouts of uncontrollable sobs.  

 

 

 

The boxing scenes, which were filmed entirely inside the ring, capture

the sometimes claustrophobic, sometimes expansive view of the ring as

both a chamber of execution and redemption. Scorsese used larger and

smaller boxing rings as a character impetus that visually depicts La

Motta’s formidable wrath in the beginning and retreating despair toward

the end of his career.

 

 

 

Most of the fighting, however, occurs outside of the ring, with his

wife Vickie (Cathy Moriarty) and brother Joey (Joe Pesci) taking the

brunt of his ferocity and feelings of inadequacy. Moriarty, who was

nineteen at the time of filming, does a remarkable job of illustrating

a young woman shrouded in domestic violence, and portraying a sexuality

so powerful that a harmless comment about one of La Motta’s opponent’s

good-looks causes him to pulverize the man’s face until he is

unrecognizable. The threat of female sexuality for La Motta is possibly

the most destructive force in the film and his own paranoia and

insecurity make him an undefeatable opponent in his own life. While

priding himself on never getting knocked down in the ring, La Motta is

annihilated in every other aspect of his life, and Scorsese uses his

example to capture the potential and weaknesses of white masculinity in

ways that no other male boxing film ever has.

The King of Comedy (1983)

 

by Anna Pulley

 

 

 

The King of Comedy takes the media industry, celebrity and the

psychotic fans that it produces as its main objects of ridicule in this

dark comedy. Rupert Pupkin (Robert De Niro) is a struggling stand-up

comedian who, though utterly convinced of his supreme talent, has never

actually performed anywhere except to cardboard cutouts of celebrities

in his mother’s basement. Preferring instead to hunt down autographs of

celebrities, particularly Jerry Langford, (Jerry Lewis) whose talk show

is modeled after Johnny Carson’s, Rupert is convinced that a

“friendship” with Jerry is his ticket to fame. Rupert spends equal

parts of his time vying for a ten minute spot on Jerry’s show and

having elaborate fantasies where all the people in his life who doubted

him, including his high school principal, apologize and applaud him.

Rupert’s fantasies are so integral to the film that in the end when

Rupert does achieve super stardom, one wonders if the book deals, the

television show, and instant success aren’t also manifestations of his

delusions of grandeur.

scorsesekingof%20comedy.jpg

 

 

 

When all of Rupert’s hopes of getting on Jerry’s show are dashed, he

decides to kidnap his idol with the help of sexual terrorist and

equally obsessive Masha (Sandra Bernhard) whose imagined courtship with

Jerry makes her one of the funniest additions to the film, particularly

when she monologues about making love on the kitchen table while Jerry

sits mummified in masking tape from the neck down. “Let’s be crazy!”

she screams and knocks a set of dishware and burning candles to the

floor.  

 

 

 

Rupert Pupkin, whose name alone is a testament to his geekdom, is a

desperate, whiny man with a comb-over who lives with his mother (played

by Scorsese’s mother). It was refreshing to see De Niro, especially

after watching Raging Bull, outside of his usual role as the supremely

masculine, misogynistic, violent type. As Rupert, De Niro’s versatility

really shines through, as well as his ability to add complexity to an

anxious celebrity whore. After being hyped up the whole movie in

regards to Rupert’s hilarity, we finally get to see his monologue,

which consists of weak one-liners interspersed with self-deprecating

humor about his troubled childhood. Rupert’s life is tragic in a campy

sense and watching his hopeless persistence and humiliation time and

again definitely make one uncomfortable, especially when Rupert brings

his would-be girlfriend (a former high school cheerleader turned

barmaid) to Jerry’s mansion unannounced. Another aspect of

squeamishness comes from Bernhard’s manic, unrequited energy, which is

as terrifying as it is comical. She’s as gleeful holding a gun to

Jerry’s head as she is making him model a half-finished sweater that

she has knitted and one can only guess how deep her neurosis truly is.

 

 

 

The King of Comedy critiques the American mania for celebrity and

“fifteen minutes of fame” at the same time that it forces viewers to

sympathize with the Ruperts and Mashas of the world. It’s darkly

satirical and unapologetic, which is possibly why it remains one of

Scorsese’s least popular films.

After Hours (1985)

 

by John

After

Hours, Martin Scorsese's 1985 black comedy which bears the distinction

of being the first Scorsese film not to feature Robert DeNiro in a

decade, features all of the director's stylistic flourishes and

thematic concerns, but unfortunately lacks the good writing necessary

to make it a memorable film. Although the film takes place in New York

(SoHo specifically), features a neurotic protagonist driven to

near-insanity, and has plenty of dynamic Scorsese direction, it still

feels like an uncharacteristic film for the director. This may result

from the massive contrivances in the film's tiresomely convoluted plot.

 

Perhaps the best way to illustrate

this last point is to simply provide a synopsis of the film's plot. The

story opens with mild-mannered Paul Hackett (Griffin Dunne), a

word-processing consultant who leads a quiet, private life. When he

meets Marcy (Rosanna Arquette) at a diner, Paul hopes to perhaps spice

up his existence with a date, but quickly becomes ensnared by the

escalating eccentricities of the people he meets as a result of his

date with her. Like an insect struggling in a spider's web, his every

effort to flee his bizarre predicaments lead to situations that are

even more troubling, and eventually, life-threatening.

scorseseafterhours.jpg

During

his hellish nighttime journey through New York, he encounters Marcy's

vaguely flirtatious apartment mate and sculptress Kiki (Linda

Fiorentino) and discovers that Marcy has major psychological problems.

He clumsily wriggles free of his date, but because all his money flew

out the window of a taxi cab earlier, he is unable to pay the raised

subway fare back to his Upper East Side apartment. He takes refuge from

a rainstorm in a bar, and exchanges apartment keys with friendly

bartender Tom (John Heard) so that he can lend him money for the subway

fare, as the cash register won't open.

On

the way back he notices one of Kiki's sculptures apparently being

stolen by two burglars. He brings the sculpture back to Kiki and

Marci's apartment, only to eventually discover that Marci has committed

suicide. After calling the police, he rushes back to Tom's bar, only to

discover that it's closed. He agrees to wait in an apartment owned by

the bar's waitress, Julie (Teri Garr), and barely wriggles free from

another potential damaged-goods date.

When

Tom returns, they exchange keys, but he gets a phone call informing him

that his girlfriend has committed suicide: it's Marci. This prevents

him from lending any money to Paul, who angers the waiting Julie when

he leaves her once again. Now determined to find a ride home, he tries

to make phone calls at the apartments of two separate people, Gail

(Catherine O'Hara) and Alex (Robert Plunket), but is thwarted in both

attempts.

To make matters worse,

Gail mistakes Paul for the man responsible for a rash of burglaries in

the neighborhood, thanks to Julie Xeroxing a drawing of his face she

made that labels him as the burglar, and posting these signs all over

SoHo. This forces Paul into hiding, who takes refuge literally in a

paper-maiche sculpture thanks to a woman he meets at a club. The real

burglars steal the sculpture, with Paul trapped in it, and when the

truck they're driving in goes over a curb, Paul is dumped right in

front of his office, ready for work the next morning.

What

is most puzzling about this incredibly haphazard storyline is how many

times Paul needlessly bumbles into many of the disasters himself,

almost like a hapless Inspector Clouseau. He's an easily likable

protagonist, but often makes irrational decisions that don't stem from

his personality or built-in character humor, but seem to be written

into the story merely to allow for outlandish predicaments.

It's

a flaw in the screenplay that is only magnified with each succeeding

plot development. Granted, it's a black comedy and not meant to be

taken too seriously, but it's simply too easy to construct a story

built almost exclusively on contrivances. When the screenwriter puts in

a scene of somebody getting shot just so Paul can watch the murder and

say, "I'll probably get blamed for that", it's not funny, just an

example of desperate screenwriting.

Scorsese's

signature stylistic flourishes, however, are immediately recognizable

and serve the erratic story well. Rushing and gliding cameras, sped-up

film, intense close-ups, fast-paced edits, the sound of ticking clocks

all highlight Paul's increasingly rattled nerves and descent into

near-insanity. Once again, the director shows he is highly skilled at

narrating the deconstruction of characters, and it is this skill that

carries the better scenes of the movie.

This

hellish black comedy is undercut by its forced humor and predicaments,

testing our ability to care about Paul. A movie can sustain its

absurdity for so long without the audience losing its connection with

the protagonist. However, Scorsese's direction doesn't hold back, and

that at least provides for some intermittently enjoyable moments in

After Hours.

The Color of Money (1986)

 

by John

The

1961 film The Hustler, directed by Robert Rossen, is a marvel of

intelligent screenwriting, electrifying performances, and concise

direction. It's simply one of the very best dramatic American films

ever made, a taught story about winning, losing, and what it takes to

gain character.

In the film, Bert

Gordon (George C. Scott) teaches harsh lessons to Fast Eddie Felson

(Paul Newman) about character-building as he faces off with Minnesota

Fats (Jackie Gleason) and others in a succession of intense pool

matches. Not only is the drama pitch-perfect, but Rossen also captures

a precise portrayal of the seedy, fast-paced underworld of pool playing

in 1960s America.

These were the

inevitably high standards that Martin Scorsese was up against when he

decided to direct the film adaptation to The Color of Money, which

looks at the character of Fast Eddie Felson some 20 years later. In the

film, Felson, still played by Newman, no longer plays pool but makes

money by dealing in alcohol. He notices the untamed skill of young

hotshot pool player Vincent (Tom Cruise), and enlists his girlfriend

Carmen (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio) in helping him become a better

pool player.

scorsesecolorof.jpg

It

seems that Felson has inherited the role that Gordon played in his own

youth, as he sees the brash naivety in Vincent as a crippling lack of

character. This character flaw, coupled with Felson's own surfacing

insecurities about his chances at winning pool as an older man,

constantly puts Felson and Vincent at loggerheads, impeding Felson's

strained tutelage.

Scorsese

certainly handles this storyline deftly. He makes sure he captures

details of the pool-playing underworld of the 1980s, and this pays off

throughout the film. In fact, the very act of playing pool itself is

perfectly suited to Scorsese's dynamic visual style. Plenty of quickly

edited shots of pool balls smashing into each other, rolling across the

pool table, or darting left and right, stylishly energize the film.

Perhaps

the most memorable shot in the movie is a sweeping crane panning across

row after row of bright green pool tables—with intentionally operatic

church music on the soundtrack—which then cuts to a tight close-up of

Newman's face. They're a dynamic pair of shots that makes a clear,

effective point about how Felson treats pool: it's his religion, and

he'd probably die for it too, even if he's past his playing prime.

Curiously,

the typical Scorsese obsessions don't show up very prominently in this

film. Like The Hustler, the dynamism in this film is purely

character-driven, not punctuated by physical violence, nor underpinned

by self-conflicted spiritual or moral conflicts weighed down by guilt.

Although thematically the film may be uncharacteristic for Scorsese, it

retains his great ability to harness memorable performances and highly

intense scenes between characters, not to mention dynamic visual set

pieces.

In trying to be cut from the

same cloth as The Hustler, the film's writing presents itself with a

formidable challenge, but succeeds reasonably well. The dialogue is

often crackling, and Felson's characterization is compelling, as is

Newman's acting. However, the character of Vincent does not crawl much

beyond the confines of a symbolic hotshot youth, and both the character

Mastrantonio plays and her performance seems lost in the story. The

film loses dramatic steam when the action shifts to Atlantic City, when

a showdown between Felson and Vincent is not only predictable, but

simply goes through the motions when it happens.

It

may just have been a foolish task to essentially make a sequel to one

of the finest American dramas. The uneven script in The Color of Money

has its moments, but fails in its own right in delivering a

consistently compelling storyline. Scorsese, however, pulls off some

particularly memorable directorial touches that are sure to please

admirers of his work, despite it ultimately being one of his lesser

accomplishments. For those just looking for a stellar, character-driven

and expertly constructed film about pool, The Color of Money doesn't

quite cut it; there's only one film to recommend for that.

The Last Temptation of Christ (1988)

 

by John

"The

dual substance of Christ–the yearning, so human, so superhuman, of man

to attain God...has always been a deep inscrutable mystery to me. My

principle anguish and source of all my joys and sorrows from my youth

onward has been the incessant, merciless battle between the spirit and

the flesh..and my soul is the arena where these two armies have clashed

and met."

 

– Nikos Kazantzakis, from the book The Last Temptation of Christ

These

words are the first images to scroll silently down the screen at the

start of Martin Scorsese's 1988 The Last Temptation of Christ, based on

the 1955 work by Nikos Kazantzakis of the same name. At the film's end,

a flurry of rapidly shifting color and sound bring the film to an

uplifting, redemptive conclusion.

In

between those two segments, a truly unorthodox retelling of the adult

life of Jesus Christ is portrayed, one that stirred up intense

religious controversy prior, during and after its release, not unlike

Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. The key difference here that

make these films near-polar opposites is that while Gibson's take on

Christ was literal and narrowly focused, Scorsese's version is highly

intellectual and original.

Those

condemning Last Temptation regarded the film as a blasphemous

perversion on Christian doctrine, while others praised the film as an

imaginative and literate character study dealing with man's perceived

battle between spirit and flesh that Kazantzakis references. Both

evaluations of the film focus on the obvious radical changes from

Christianity's account of Jesus' life, a self-doubting and cowardly man

who only becomes aware of the full meaning of his divinity as he

suffers on the cross, after a torturous and indecisive struggle that

culminates in an imagined relationship as a husband and father.

It's

true that the film treats Christ more as a literary device, a character

that is symbolic of man's (dualistic) struggle between the spirit and

the flesh. However, it's here that Scorsese's retelling flourishes.

Never before, nor since, has the director confronted his lingering

spiritual issues on film so directly as he does in Last Temptation,

which takes a highly personal road to affirm what Christ's suffering

means to Scorsese. Specifically, the film shows how Scorsese needed a

personal Jesus, one which he, and thus audiences, could relate to on an

accessible level. The result is a highly compelling, dramatically

focused story that ranks among Scorsese's best films.

scorseselasttempt.jpg

Scorsese's Jesus:

The

movie opens with a frail and terrified Jesus, played simultaneously

with sensitivity and power by the gifted Willem Dafoe. Jesus is aware

of the fact that he has been destined for greater purpose, though he is

unsure as to what this purpose could be. He is severely self-critical;

he admits he has sinned, and for the times that he does not sin, he

does so out of fear, not out of a desire to do good.

He

leaves his home in Nazareth and sets out to discover God's plan for

him. He first visits Mary Magdalene, whom he faults for not choosing to

settle down with her, leading her to become a prostitute. Her anger

towards him only feeds this self-blame. In the meantime, his friend

Judas, a zealot in fierce opposition to Roman rule, believes that Jesus

should be a political leader to unite the Jews against their

oppressors, but is severely disappointed in Jesus for not taking this

challenge.

After meditating in the

desert, Jesus feels compelled that God's plan for him is to preach a

message of peace and love. Judas, still unwilling to lose faith in his

friend, agrees to stick around and see where preaching takes Jesus.

After being baptized by John the Baptist, who tells him that he should

be squelching injustice through violence, and after receiving several

visions in the desert, Jesus relents and begins a fiery crusade against

the Romans, much to Judas' delight.

Then,

Jesus receives another vision, and now realizes that his true mission

is not love or the sword, but become a sacrifice for God. He urges a

conflicted Judas to betray him in order to help Jesus accomplish this

mission, and it nearly succeeds, until Jesus sees a little girl who

claims to be an angel of God. Telling him that his mission is over, she

convinces Jesus to lead the life of a husband and father. Jesus lives

to be an old man, and during the destruction of Jerusalem, he is

confronted by an angry Judas, who feels betrayed by his master for not

following through with his self-sacrificial mission. He reveals that

the angelic girl was, in fact, Satan.

Jesus

repents his lapse into leading an earthly life, and totally commits

himself to God. He then finds himself back on the cross, his last

temptation in actuality being only a vision, and dies, only aware of

his own divinity at the last minute.

A Dualistic Portrayal:

The

film depicts a philosophy much closer to Gnosticism than Christian

spirituality. The Gnostics believed first and foremost as the

attainment of gnosis, or knowledge, as the key to salvation. Gnostic

dualism in particular emphasizes a total separation between the

physical and spiritual realms, with the physical rejected as punishment

that totally obstructs, and is in opposition against, the spiritual.

It is this severe opposition between the physical and spiritual, a

clear product of gnostic dualism, that is the underpinning of Scorsese'

personal vision of Christ's story. Last Temptation establishes this

dilemma immediately, with Kazantzakis' quote opening the film

presenting the concept of the "merciless battle between the spirit and

the flesh."

In the film's narrative

itself, this concept is first reaffirmed most visibly with the scene in

which a Jewish master living in the desert is buried. One of the

members of the community in which he had lived, eulogizes at his

burial: "The master's soul has gone to heaven. His body's work is

completed. They walked under the sun and the moon, over sand and stone,

sinned, felt pain, yearned for heaven. We command his remains to our

God. Flesh the master no longer needs."

Soul

and body are viewed in complete separation from one another, trapped

together on Earth, both "yearning for heaven" so that the flesh, an

instrument that the soul is practically coerced into using, can be

finally discarded. In essence, the body is viewed as a crude tool that

is beneath the spirit. In another scene, Jesus' mother Mary approaches

Jesus, to which he replies, "Who are you?...I don't have a mother. I

don't have a family. I have a father, in heaven." Here, Jesus rejects

his mother, this physical parent, so to speak; yet, he only

acknowledges God as his spiritual parent. It's another example of a

strict separation between the physical and spiritual, compounded with a

rejection of the physical.

The

concept of the physical and spiritual being two distinct realms, in

which one must be seen as better than the other, is also specifically

illustrated. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus prays and says, "Father

in Heaven, father on Earth, the world that you've created that we can

see is beautiful. But the world that you've created that we can't see

is beautiful too. I don't know, I'm sorry Father; I don't know which is

more beautiful."

Here, even though

Jesus says that the world is beautiful, the perception of both is

presented only through a choice, through a decision that judges the

merit or value of one over the other. One is supposed to be more

beautiful than the other, and in Jesus' case, as Scorsese sees, is he

must make the decision that the physical world is the one to reject in

favor of the spiritual world. Jesus' impending sacrifice is perceived

as this very decision.

The Last Temptations:

One

pivotal scene that determines the thematic course of the rest of the

movie, however, most directly exhibits this perspective of Gnostic

dualism. Jesus camps out in the desert and has three visions of Satan.

The first, a snake, speaks to him in the voice of Mary Magdalene, and

implores him not to attempt to "save the world," but "find love" with

Mary so that "we'll be in my bed together," at which point Jesus is

wracked with sobbing. Then, a second visitation appears, in the form of

a lion, congratulating him with the voice of Judas of passing "the

temptations of a woman and a family," and that he is "bigger than

that."

Here, the Gnostic dualism

founded in a negative perception of the physical world is

reestablished, this time more pervasively. The film presents a central

choice to its fictionalized Jesus: either accept a duty to save

mankind, or lapse into the temptations and earthy pleasures associated

with being a family man. Once again, as before, the body is subverted

below the greater concept of the spirit; somehow, expressing love

through marrying and raising a family is sinful, and antithetical to

embracing a healthy and sincere spiritual life.

When

Jesus is later tempted by Satan again, this time while on the cross, we

see him consummate his love for Mary Magdalene, and for other women as

well, living to a ripe old age with many children. Here, through a

vision, Jesus gives into this temptation of man, exhibiting a complete disconnect with the

spiritual searching's he had manifested before. Apparently, by being a

family man, he can no longer continue his spiritual investigations.

This shows, again, the dualistic view: the spiritual and physical

cannot live in harmony, nourishing each other. It is a struggle between

a higher spiritual need and a baser physical desire that can never be

reconciled, only conquered by the defeat of one by the other. Including

a woman and family, primarily because of its physical, sexual aspect,

is an outright temptation that cannot coexist with a full spiritual

life.

Since Jesus is presented as a

symbol for mankind's struggle in the film, this lends the viewer a

clear insight into how Scorsese feels about his own spirituality, and

how he has struggled to express it in all of his films. Scorsese is

attempting to grasp with a point of view that allows for no possible

marriage between the physical and the spiritual; the struggle, as

presented in the film's opening quote and developed by the ensuing

narrative, is presented as a constant battle where only one side can

win.

Such tension personified by

this version of Jesus, then, acts like a template for the neurotic,

guilt-ridden characters that populate virtually all of Scorsese's

films. With Last Temptation, we see the thematic roots of Scorsese's

cinematic obsessions. On top of that, the film communicates them

clearly and with confidence, no doubt in large part to Paul Schrader's

excellent script. Jesus' personal journey in the film is one of the

most compelling, if unorthodox, explorations of Jesus' life, as well as

the dueling concepts of the spiritual and physical. The film is an

artistic success for Scorsese that demands multiple viewings, should

provoke deep reflection, and is not to be missed.

 

Goodfellas (1990)

 

by Ari

Ray

Liotta is driving a car late at night with Robert De Niro in the

passenger seat and Joe Pesci in the back. Noise and movement from the

trunk comes to their attention. They stop the car on the side of the

road and get out, open the trunk and reveal the bloody, beat-up body of

an unknown man. Pesci pulls out a butcher knife, De Niro a pistol, and

suddenly a ferocious sequence of brutality ensues, with Pesci violently

stabbing the victim and De Niro unloading his pistol. It’s an

unexpectedly vicious bit of violence, a shock to the system, and the

unforgettable introduction to a major triumph in American filmmaking.

The camera pans up and moves quickly towards Liotta as he closes the

trunk, freezing on his close-up.

“As

far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. To me,

being a gangster was better than being President of the United States.”

- Henry Hill.

So begins Martin

Scorsese's Goodfellas, a dizzying odyssey into the culture and crime of

Italian gangsters in New York City and based on the real-life accounts

of Henry Hill, former gangster who eventually turned to the Witness

Protection Program to save himself from getting whacked. Goodfellas is

an epic stuffed with so much fascinating content it’s too overpowering

to entirely take in on first viewing. This is the most exuberant and

commanding film of Scorsese’s career, an enthralling journey of a man’s

rise and fall through the uneasy and dangerous world of organized

crime. Liotta’s narration introduces the many important characters who

operate the business, from boss Paulie (Paul Sorvino) to Irish

tough-guy Jimmy (De Niro). The constant voice-over provides every

detail, enveloping the audience in the complexity of the organization

and how crime and family and business and friendship are all connected,

a circle of honor and loyalty that can never be threatened or

questioned.

scorsesegoodfellas.jpg

As Henry grows older, he naturally becomes more involved with his

friends, including the particularly brutal and hot-headed Tommy

(Pesci), the uncontrollable killer who causes so many problems.

Scorsese takes you inside the life. These gangsters appear as energetic

and personable men who enjoy their lives, the opportunities they’re

provided and the wealth they obtain. When Henry takes his girlfriend

and eventual wife Karen (Lorraine Bracco) to the Copacabana nightclub,

it’s like entering a joyous new world where everything and everyone

revolves around the man in charge, in this case, Henry. It’s exciting.

It’s alive.

Henry unabashedly loves

being a gangster. When things are good, he enjoys his wife, his

friends, and his money, achieving his American dream of doing whatever

he wants and living well because of it. When things are bad, like his

time in prison, they’re still relatively good. In one of the best and

most amusing sequences, Henry joins his boss and pals for a lovely and

delicious Italian dinner in a prison cell that looks like a living

room. No matter what hole they may appear to be stuck in, the gangsters

are in control. That is, however, until they become too much of a

wiseguy for their own good, react without considering the consequences,

and push or kill the wrong person. This is a world where “Now go home

and get your fuckin’ shinebox” changes everything for the worse,

igniting a chain of events that send everyone, especially Henry, down a

path of destructiveness. Goodfellas lovingly follows his rise to

fortune and violently portrays his descent into drugs, paranoia, fear,

and eventual betrayal.

Scorsese’s

craft is awe-inspiring. The scope and emotion is breathtaking, and

watching his bravado is something both inspiring and daring. Goodfellas

is one of the most ferociously edited films I’ve seen, a feat he and

editor Thelma Schoonmaker proudly display. Scorsese pushes the limits

like no other American filmmaker has done in the past thirty years.

This film demands and improves on subsequent viewing. Goodfellas is a

movie to dissect and learn from, a dare and challenge posed to every

self-respecting filmmaker (aspiring or professional) to deliver

something of value and artistry. Scorsese shows you that cinema is

still the most powerful form of artistic expression, something the best

and most inspiring works should do.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Subindo, porque ele merece. O top atual dele:

1) Taxi Driver [9,75]

2) A Última Tentação de Cristo [9,75]

3) O Aviador [9,50]

4) Touro Indomável [9,50]

5) Os Bons Companheiros [8,50]

6) Gangues de Nova York [7,75]

 

Exímio! 10 A cada filme vem subindo no meu conceito e, provavelmente, hoje figura no terceira ou quarta posição do meu top de diretores [média = 9,125]. Seu estilo urbano de Taxi Driver, Touro Indomável, Gangues de Nova York e Os Bons Companheiros é clássico; mas a biografia de Howard Hughes, O Aviador, e a versão não-bíblica de Cristo são igualmente orquestrados com maestria. E a respeito da discussãozinha àcima sobre o meu segundo filme do top, vai o que falei dele, feito um pouco depois da sessão:

 

A Última Tentação de Cristo – Dir.: Martin Scorsese

 

O que o Scorsa fez desta vez, amigo? Eu sou cristão, mas ainda não diria 100% e o que o diretor de Táxi Driver e Touro Indomável fez aqui deixa qualquer um de queixo abaixado. O filme é ousado e polêmico, contando uma versão de Jesus aos fatos do ocorrido; jamais, porém, promulgando e/ou impondo determinada fé e tendo o respeito o qual Jesus tanto pediu. Se não se baseia na Bíblia, não foge dela, à medida que não nega o seu conteúdo.

 

Chocante e perturbador em diversas cenas, eu citaria Maria Madalena tendo relações sexuais com diversos homens que ficam numa filinha e Jesus, apenas observando, entre eles e a óbvia crucificação que se não trouxe as lágrimas, tirou-me da consciência sã (tive que sair dali, tomar uma água, lanchar e só depois voltar a vê-lo). O grande mérito da obra deste Scorsa sem tiroteios e violência urbana e com o grande potencial que tem nas mãos é, justamente, tirar a impressão de filme religioso. Seja na parte técnica brilhante por não dar o estereótipo comum e muito envelhecido como de costume; seja no roteiro que nos brinda com a transformação de Jesus. O roteiro revela que, sobre tudo e todos, Ele era uma pessoa humana submetida aos problemas, à dúvida e às tentações – afinal. O diferencial não foi só a escolha do Pai, mas sim, a vontade com a qual ele se empenhou e trabalhou para livrar-se de todos os pecados dele e da humanidade; o amor, o afeto, a paciência. E isto tudo sem ficar canastrão e piegas.

 

Willem Dafoe, à primeira vista, não tem cara de Jesus ideal, só que nesta versão “diferenciada” e com a excelente mão do Scorsese, ele vira ouro. Os outros atores também estão bons e Harvey Ketel sobressai-se perante os demais no Judas confidente e o mais fiel de todos, sacrificando sua reputação para todo o sempre e servindo como alicerce para a elevação da alma e condução de Jesus às vontades do Pai. Se Maria é deixada de lado, falas históricas e marcantes da Bíblia não sofrem do mesmo, adaptadas e atuadas tiram o pó da Antigüidade a qual são pronunciadas.

 

A grande cartada de Scorsese, creio eu, é deixar a mente do espectador embaralhada e o estômago dando reviravoltas. Teve certa hora que eu quis desligar, falei “ah, só maluquice e vontade de polemizar”, como sempre estava errado e, por sorte, verifiquei o erro a tempo. Scorsa e o roteiro não quiseram revolucionar ou testar Igrejas, religiosos e fanáticos; transmitiram a mensagem do Amor por Deus e a força com a qual isto nos impulsiona, apenas o dez de maneira menos conservadora e mais próxima a nós, “meros” Humanos, tão humanos quanto foi Cristo Jesus.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Votei no óbvio: Taxi Driver.

 

Os que vi:

 

Taxi Driver 5/5

Os Infiltrados 5/5

Cassino 4/5

O Rei da Comédia 4/5

Os Bons Companheiros 3/5

Gangues de NY 3/5

O Aviador 3/5

 

E esses aqui fazem um tempão que vi. Quero até rever, para confirmar nota.

 

A Última Tentação de Cristo 5/5

Depois de Horas 5/5

Cabo do Medo 3/5
Jailcante2007-04-08 18:29:36

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Gosto muito do Touro Indomável, e impossível você não ficar vidrado com os absurdos da vida pessoal do Jake LaMotta(De Niro)um personagem atipico,mal-humardo e ciumento que no ringue e um leão na arena e infelimente no convivio pessoal também e.

Bela trilha sonora,montagem e fotografia um clássico do Scorsese.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

 

impossivel isso 12

 

Se eu votar em Touro Indomável vou ficar com dor no coração de Os Bons Companheiros, se Votar nele vou ficar com dor de Taxi Driver, pq são meus favoritos, obviamente 01

 

Pat Bateman2007-04-09 22:41:22

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

E é incrível como pouca gente escolheu Os Bons Companheiros. Para mim, a única fita de Scorsese capaz de chegar aos pés de sua obra-prima, Taxi Driver. Ou melhor, nem aos pés, este passa o limite da cintura, inclusive. Para mim, ao lado de Era Uma Vez na América, é o melhor filme de gângster/máfia do cinema, além de ser o melhor filme das duas últimas décadas. Não é pouco, não...

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Minhas avaliações sobre a obra de Scorsese.

Taxi Driver - *****

Touro Indomável - *****

Os Bons Companheiros - ****1/2

Caminhos Perigosos - ****

Cabo do Medo - ****

Cassino - ***1/2

Os Infiltrados - ***1/2

O Aviador - ***

A Época da Inocência - ***

Vivendo no Limite - **

Gangues de Nova York - **

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Vamos ver...

 

1. Taxi Driver

2. Touro Indomável

3. Os Bons Companheiros

4. Caminhos Perigosos

5. A Última Tentação de Cristo

6. Depois de Horas

7. Vivendo no Limite

8. Cassino

9. Os Infiltrados

10. Quem Bate à Minha Porta

11. Alice Não Mora Mais Aqui

12. O Aviador

13. Gangues de Nova York

14. A Época da Inocência

15. Sexy e Marginal

 

1-7 = OPs. Das posições no top, o 7 é estável sempre. Os dois primeiros se revezam no meu topo de todos os tempos, e o terceiro não fica muito atrás. Todos são no mínimo muito bons, menos o último, o único que é ruim mesmo com vc encontrando lampejos do grande diretor dos outros filmes (o único que não está disponível no Brasil, e nem precisa). E tem uns aí que eu ainda não tenho opinião definida, tipo O Aviador, Gangues e Época da Inocência.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Caraca, o rubysun é fãzóide mesmo... 06 Meu top, já que voltamos a entrar na moda:

 

1. Taxi Driver

2. A Última Tentação de Cristo

3. Os Infiltrados

4. O Aviador

5. Touro Indomável

6. Os Bons Companheiros

7. New York, New York

8. Gangues de Nova York
ltrhpsm2007-05-25 12:31:14

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

E difícil falar da filmografia do Scorsese ele tem muitos longas, e a maioria graça a deus e acima da média.Bons Companheiros foi oque me abriu os olhos e gravou o nome do cineasta na minha cabeça.

Nunca me esqueço da cara do Ray Lyotta, quando ele ve as barbaridades do Joe Pesci e De Niro e um clássico policial, tanto que deu espaço e respeito para ele chegar no ótimo Infiltrados

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Scorsese anuncia programa de restauração


i2305200703.jpg

Martin Scorsese, que anunciou parceria para restaurar filmes

DA ENVIADA A CANNES

Ao lado do diretor brasileiro Walter Salles, o cineasta norte-americano Martin Scorsese anunciou ontem em Cannes a criação da WCF (World Cinema Foundation), entidade sem fins lucrativos, voltada à restauração de filmes ameaçados de desaparecimento.
A fundação estende à escala mundial a iniciativa que Scorsese, George Lucas, Francis Ford Coppola e Steven Spielberg tiveram há 17 anos, nos EUA, quando lançaram a Cinema Foundation, que recuperou até hoje 495 filmes, cifra que Scorsese acha insuficiente.
"A maioria dos acervos se perdeu. Sabemos que 90% dos filmes mudos americanos desapareceram", disse ele, Oscar de melhor filme com "Os Infiltrados". A Cinema Foundation surgiu com o objetivo de "usar a influência como diretores, para pressionar os estúdios a pensar de modo diferente sobre a preservação do patrimônio cinematográfico", disse.
A WCF tem, por enquanto, uma lista de dez filmes a serem restaurados, ainda sem ordem de prioridade definida. Após a recuperação, os títulos devem ser editados em DVD, mas Scorsese, que preside a fundação, julga importante que eles sejam exibidos "primeiro nos festivais e nas cinematecas, que serão os grandes parceiros, para depois sair em DVD".
Scorsese convidou para conselheiros da fundação cineastas de renome internacional.
Além de Salles, estavam presentes ao anúncio os mexicanos Alfonso Cuarón e Alejandro González Iñárritu, o chinês Wong Kar-wai, o inglês Stephen Frears, o turco Fatih Akin, o mauritanês Abderrahmane Sissako, o malinês Soyleymane Cissé e o marroquino Ahmed El Maanouni.
De El Maanouni, foi exibido ontem "Transes" (1981), exemplo de restauração. Hoje, será a vez do título brasileiro "Limite" (1931), de Mário Peixoto.
Salles lembrou que Scorsese é admirador da obra de Glauber Rocha (1939-81) e citou frase do produtor Luiz Carlos Barreto, fotógrafo de "Terra em Transe", para realçar a importância da preservação da memória cinematográfica: "Um país sem cinema é como uma casa sem espelhos".
Scorsese afirmou ter aprendido sobre países como a Índia assistindo a filmes estrangeiros nos EUA e disse que o cinema "pode nos ajudar a nos sentir mais próximos de outras culturas", daí o "aspecto político" da conservação de filmes.
Os primeiros patrocinadores da WCF, a quem Scorsese fez questão de citar e agradecer, são as grifes Armani e Cartier.


NA INTERNET - Leia mais sobre Cannes no blog Ilustrada no Cinema folha.com.br/ilustradanocinema



Texto Anterior: Mondo Cannes
Próximo Texto: Mônica Bergamo
Índice

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Meus favoritos nessa ordem:

Touro Indomável

Taxi Driver

Cabo do Medo

A Última Tentação de Cristo

O Aviador

Os Bons Companheiros

 

Não gostei de Cassino e acho Os Infiltrados superestimado. E convenhamos, diretores como ele não precisam ganhar prêmios pra se afirmar, depois de tantas vaciladas, a Academia resolveu premiá-lo na hora errada. 03

 

Falando no Scorcese, recentemente eu revi um episódio dirigido por ele de Amazing Stories, eis minha resenha.  01

 

Episódio 1x19 - Mirror, Mirror (contém spoilers)

 

Finalmente,

depois de tantos episódios piegas, fantasiosos e sem-graça, um com a

mesma qualidade do 4º. e 6º. da primeira temporada. Lembro que quando

assisti a primeira vez passei a ter medo de olhar para os espelhos, e

por isso ele me marcou até hoje (tanto que era um dos poucos episódios

que lembrava vagamente).

 

Jordan Manmouth (interpretado pelo ator

Sam Waterston) é escritor de filmes de terror. Ele diz que não tem medo

de histórias de terror, e que se "assusta" mesmo é com os vivos,

cobradores, ex-esposas, críticos... O diretor Martin Scorcese prova o

contrário. O que acaba assustando ele não é o que está vivo ou morto,

mas ele próprio.

 

Na maioria das histórias de fantasmas você tem

idéia de onde eles vem. Aqui não está claro (ao menos de uma maneira

óbvia). E se não está tudo bem esclarecido, a história passa a ser mais

envolvente, e assustadora. É tão efetivo quanto você não ver um

fantasma ou monstro exaustivamente. O terror sugerido e a atmosfera

desenvolvida em torno daquela história é muito bem-vinda (e por isso

que prefiro sempre as produções mais antigas, não fazem mais filmes de

terror como antigamente).

 

O fato do fantasma aqui do episódio

aparecer só no espelho pode servir como uma pista de onde ele se

originou. Um espelho pode ser um símbolo para um portal à outro mundo.

Se for assim ele seria uma punição enviada de lá porque ele afirmou que

não tem medo de fantasmas (e no começo ele diz que gostaria de ter, mas

tem mesmo é dos vivos, então talvez os fantasmas estejam atendendo seu

"desejo").

 

Também há outras interpretações. Um espelho pode ser o símbolo dos desejos de uma pessoa (como visto em Harry Potter e a Pedra Filosofal)

ou da alma de alguém. Olhando um espelho você estaria vendo um

"retrato" do seu interior. Jordan é mostrado como uma pessoa arrogante,

então talvez o espelho esteja mostrando o seu podre interior, que pode

estar mais morto que vivo (o fantasma do espelho se parece com os

zumbis vistos logo no primeiro minuto do episódio).

 

 O título do episódio também (Mirror, Mirror). É provavelmente uma alusão ao conto da Branca de Neve e a pergunta "espelho, espelho meu, existe alguém mais feio do que eu".

E o espelho mostra Jordan como o mais feio ao mostrar esse fantasma

supostamente "imaginário". A mesma  interpretação que mostrar como

ele realmente é, por dentro, no seu íntimo. O final (que apesar de

original, eu não gostei muito) é provavelmente uma pista de que essa

interpretação é possível.

 

 Leiam esse texto publicado no blog, que aborda rapidamente o assunto:

 

http://elusion-pedion.blogspot.com/2006/09/espelho-espelho-meu-de-moacyr-scliar.html

 

Mais

uma observação: a aparição é chamada de "Fantasma de Jordan" ("Jordan's

Phantom", interpretado por Tim Robbins), nos créditos finais. Um

fantasma pode ser apenas uma ilusão ou paranóia de alguém, mas pode ser

uma aparição mesmo, um fantasma (de fato). E pode ser relevante que não

seja chamado de "Fantasma" mas de "Fantasma de Jordan", pois realmente

sugere algo que pertence à ele. As outras pessoas no episódio não vêem o dito cujo.

 

Dá pra dizer que o episódio se encaixa na psicologia de protagonistas de Taxi Driver (lembram da fala "você está falando comigo? / "you talking to me") e até mesmo O Aviador, da forma como uma loucura e paranóia podem tomar conta de um sujeito.

 

Não

importa como Jordan e seu interesse amoroso tentem fazer, ele não deixa

de notar o reflexo nos objetos, e o fantasma de capa atrás dele,

tentando matá-lo.

 

O que realmente chama a atenção nesse

episódio, originalmente escrito pelo próprio Steven Spielberg, é a

forma como os impulsos hitchcokianos funcionam tão bem. A fotografia

aqui também funciona, é uma mistura de tomadas simples, ângulos

distorcidos, e movimentação de câmera criativa, às vezes remetendo ao

estilo do mestre do suspense. O estilo de Scorcese também é notado,

como na montagem rápida de Jordan trancando as portas, ou dele na

prisão.

 

Sam Waterston tem uma boa atuação, e faz com que o

pânico vivido pelo personagem seja plausível, de forma que o espectador

possa acreditar no que está vendo, e não algo totalmente caricato.

Hoje, com mais bagagem, pra mim a história já não tem o mesmo impacto

de antes, mas valeu a pena dar uma revisitada.

 

Episódio disponível no Youtube: 16

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzbsq-tsGgM

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Olha eu gosto muito de Taxi Driver. Mas como eu não consigo proferir opiniões essencialmente técnicas, pra mim, o melhor de Scorcese é Os Bons Companheiros. Além de ser perfeito (como Taxi Driver), faz mais meu estilo... Taxi Driver se distancia muito do meu gosto pessoal.

Seguindo a mesma lógica, em segundo lugar vem Cassino :D

Taxi Driver fica em terceiro.

 

Não gostei muito nem de O Aviador nem de Gangues de NY (onde a única coisa realmente nota 10 é a atuação de Daniel Day Lewis). Desculpem-me os fãs, mas achei O Aviador de uma chatice absurda e Gangues de uma breguice memorável.

 

Eu também gostei muito de Os Infiltrados... Mas eu prefiro a Época da Inocência. Aliás... eu não sei como colcoar esses 2 na lista (por isso detesto listas 06)... Porque os dois são extremamente diferentes. E digo mais, A Época da Inocência quase não tem nada a vê com Scorcese. A semelhança que eu noto é só na narrativa, que é do mesmo jeitinho que ele gosta de fazer. Mas quanto ao estilo... completamente diferente.

 

Então, se eu fosse tentar fazer uma lista (eu não deveria fazer listas, sempre me arrependo rsrs), seria:

 

1 - Os Bons Companheiros

2 - Cassino

3 - Taxi Driver

4 - A Época da Inocência

5 - Os Infiltrados

.

.

.

O Aviador e Gangues de NY.

 

Não vi os outros.

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Não vi muita coisa, mas aprecio muito o diretor e seus filmes. Talvez porque eu me identifique muito com os protagonistas "perturbados" dos filmes de Scorsese (Howard Hughes, Travis Bickle, Billy Costigan). O Aviador, por exemplo, é um filme que é melhor compreendido por quem sofre do mesmo problema que atinge o protagonista (Transtorno Obsessivo Compulsivo). O mesmo vale para Taxi Driver, que conta com um personagem igualmente perturbado. Travis Bickle é um personagem com quem o público dificilmente se identifica, classificando-o apenas como "louco".

 

Filmes de Scorsese que vi, em ordem de preferência:

Taxi Driver = 10

O Aviador = 9,5

Os Bons Companheiros = 9,0

Os Infiltrados = 9,0

Cassino = 9,0

Caminhos Perigosos = 8,5

Gangues de Nova York = 7,5

Contos de Nova York (Lições de Vida) = 7,5 (6,5 para o filme num geral)

Vivendo no Limite = 6,5Indiana Jones2007-10-20 17:17:09

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

Loading...

×
×
  • Create New...