Important psychological study

Rating: 8/10 (23 August 2002)

*Major spoilers*
No matter how down you're feeling, chances are your life is nowhere near as pathetic as Travis Bickle's. He is one of the classic cinematic antiheroes. He can never fit in the modern world. From the start of "Taxi Driver," all his attempts at human communication are destined to fail. At one point he attempts to strike up a relationship with a woman, but he blows it by taking her to a porno theater on the first date. Seldom has so promising an opportunity with a woman been so utterly squandered. One is hard pressed to imagine that anyone could be so unimaginably foolish. The only possible explanation is that he is subconsciously sabotaging himself. This memorable scene strikes home the extent to how out of touch he is with reality, and his inability to fit in society as well. He does not seem to be part of the world, but a traveler from a strange land, observing all. He doesn't even fit in too well with his coworkers, although they do manage to be civil. In the meantime, his frustrations build up...and something will give sooner or later...
Robert DeNiro was robbed of an Oscar for his chilling, multilayered portrayal of Travis. His character could easily have descended into parody, but he strikes the right note in every scene, resulting in an uncomfortably believable portrait of urban alienation. Even at his worst, we are allowed to sympathize with the character; he is not an evil person, but a sick person whose troubles have exceeded his ability to cope. Director Martin Scorsese and screenwriter Paul Schrader refuse to judge any of their characters, not even Travis. Chances are, he was once a much more well-adjusted person before going to war, at times this other side of him can be glimpsed, fighting to get out. Travis does try to do good, but his mental illness invariably drag him down further and further. He is in the grip of forces beyond his control. Even his failed attempt to assassinate a presidential candidate is another desperate attempt to break out of his condition.
The film also boasts a pair of fine supporting performances. Jodie Foster (as Iris) pulls off the difficult part of a teenage prostitute with more skill than some adults would have demonstrated in similar roles. Her rapport with DeNiro is believable, never taking a misstep. They are two kindred spirits, adrift in a hostile world, and it is only natural that they would get along so well. Indeed, she seems to have coaxed out Travis last trace of humanity before his descent into madness. Harvey Keitel plays her pimp, stealing every scene he's in, and one can only wish he had a bit more screen time. He gives the character a degree of moral ambiguity--is he using Iris, or does he genuinely care for her? No easy answers are provided. I am not a big fan of Sybill Shepherd, but she turns in an adequate performance as the subject of Travis' unrequited love. Albert Brooks gets the most thankless role, as Shepherd's nerdy coworker; their scenes together are the only ones that don't quite work, but thankfully the whole business is dispensed with fairly early on. Leonard Harris is solid as a naive politician. Finally, there are memorable cameos from Joe Spinell and Scorsese himself.
The director creates a portrait of New York City as a desolate, hostile world of its own. He establishes a grimy, gritty atmosphere, thanks in part to Bernard Herrmann's haunting, melancholy jazz score. His visual style is much more subtle than his more recent work, but after repeated viewings the film grows on the viewer. I admit I didn't quite get into it at first, yet I kept watching it again...and again...and again...
***1/2 (out of ****)
Released by Columbia Pictures