Gangs of New York
Released December 20, 2002

Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Daniel Day Lewis, Cameron Diaz, Jim Broadbent, John C. Reily, Brendan Gleeson, Henry Thomas, Liam Neeson
Based on the book by: Herbert Asbury
Screenplay: Jay Cocks, Steven Zallian, and Kenneth Lonegern
Director: Martin Scorsese

Reviewed by Peter Veugelaers © 2003
- Words escape me ... ecstasy

The background of this story is another one about the lengthy pre-production process that lasts for years, sometimes decades. Like his passion to bring The Last Temptation of Christ to screen over a period of five years, "Gangs of New York" took longer, Martin Scorsese’s labour of love and brainchild conceived in the 1970’s. What appears on screen is a work of precision, a finely executed piece appearing as if the director (with his collaborators) was in the pains of birthing art.

"Gangs of New York" is a revenge story from the perspective of the young man Amsterdam, played by Leonardo DiCaprio, who sees his father, ‘Priest’ Vallon, die at the hands of a rival gang chieftain, Bill ‘The Butcher’ Poole, during the time of the American Civil War of the late 1800s.

The main action is held in a slum area called The Five Points where Irish immigrants huddled in squalid and poor conditions, and gangs jostled for control of New York assisted by corrupt and rival political camps.

The result seethes in violence, which is sometimes subtle, playing variously as an undercurrent – knifes are used with deadly abandon, butchery, flashes of angry faces, lovers quarrelling in unconventional ways, damage to property, cries of a young boy in view of his father’s death - and is intermittently explicit (the opening is particularly graphic).

It also infuses sensuality with prostitutes lounging in states of undress, seemingly added for realism and effect; the redeeming purpose is glaringly found in the last few scenes and in the distance one can take from the action on the screen.

Some may contend that America has nothing to be proud of today in light of moral promiscuity and the reality of the poor, and so "Gangs of New York" may celebrate America and its prosperity in its own way, but is the depiction of gang warfare significant in the shaping of the country? Is it relevant? It is, however, the demise of the gangs that is important here.

The time period of the film is judged as a darker episode in the founding and development of a nation, which is conveyed through the epic nature of Scorsese’s ambitious project: it projects back in a passionate and involved manner to find progress, at least from the dimensions seen therein, and subtly foreshadows hope for the future just by the presence of its positive finale.

There is a greater contextual milieu – it is historical and so we, the audience, can look back with the knowledge of how America is now, which the film consciously does when it makes a judgement about the past in view from the present, articulated by Amsterdam’s narration, which interchanges between single point of view and omnipresence in the course of the story. (Its point is at least from the view of improved conditions and prosperity, although not totally inclusive for all of America’s citizens today).

The film’s song, "The Hands That Built America", consolidates the message. Significantly, U2 performed the song. The rock band was originally from Ireland and conquered America’s music scene, so adds resonance to the theme. It seems almost certain that they were chosen to create this musical piece in light of their seemingly vested interest with the country of Ireland.

Consequently, "Gangs of New York" is particularly favourable towards the Irish although is not altogether antagonistic towards the natives of the time. Amsterdam (an Irish Catholic) and Jenny, a pickpocket from a troubled background (played by Cameron Diaz), are the apparent moral voices against the tyranny of the villain, native Bill Poole (Daniel Day Lewis).

Towards the end, when Amsterdam rallies support for a sheriff with an Irish persuasion in a town election, the sheriff (Brendan Gleeson) proclaims a pivotal sentiment of working out issues democratically to which end he is slaughtered. Call it a sign of that time, which the film marvellously recreates throughout, but it also conveys emotionally (at least to me) the loss of the pending sheriff’s death as he was the morally superior figure and foreshadows the later conclusion of the film.

This is a strong character piece as well as excellent filmmaking technique and story telling despite lacking dramatic connection in places. The three leads exhibit contradictions making them complex, and the supporting roles are also multi-layered to a lesser degree. DiCaprio plays anger and frustration well, although is weak in moments; the writing of Diaz’s character is more formidable than the acting of it, although she poses a charm and sensitivity; Daniel Day Lewis is the high note of the actors, giving thuggery a hint of glory but the bite of his sting is in how you eventually dislike him, and conversely (maybe perversely) understand him. Jim Broadbent as William Tweed, a corrupt politician with a hint of a conscience, Henry Thomas (E.T), a friend of Amsterdam, and Brendan Gleeson stand out among the support.

Scorsese’s fascination with New York and the Italian American link with the violence and politics of street life climaxes with a historical portrait, apparently not entirely based in fact, but which makes real and compelling the film’s underlining contention that America was fashioned out of conflicts because of decadence, poverty and ruin of a previous age.