ARE WE SAFE HERE?
by Elizabeth Wilcox
Let’s be honest. Peter Greenaway’s The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover is not an enjoyable film to watch. I did not enjoy watching it. I would not “recommend” this film in the same way one recommends, say, Punch-Drunk Love or Annie Hall. Not…
Taxi Driver at Art of the Title
An opaque plume of sewer steam rises, slowly, before being dispersed by the emergence of a yellow taxi cab. Dan Perri’s neon infused title designs are revealed on the re-formed mist, each credit appearing only as long as necessary before the next is displayed.
Paul Schrader’s screenplay introduces the anti-hero, Travis Bickle:
Age 26, lean, hard, the consummate loner. On the surface he appears good-looking, even handsome; he has a quiet steady look and a disarming smile which flashes from nowhere, lighting up his whole face. But behind that smile, around his dark eyes, in his gaunt cheeks, one can see the ominous stains caused by a life of private fear, emptiness and loneliness. He seems to have wandered in from a land where it is always cold, a country where the inhabitants seldom speak. The head moves, the expression changes, but the eyes remain ever-fixed, unblinking, piercing empty space.
Cut to Bickle’s eyes as he peers through the window of his taxi, observing the city streets. The seedy splendor of 1970s New York City flashes by, images of a nightly routine that threatens to become hypnotic. This intra-diegetic gaze provides an insight into Bickle’s psyche and his relationship to the city - its inhabitants, its buildings, its allure. All we see through this point of view is a melange of colors and images that remain constant and blurred.
