The Roots of Violence through a Powerful Character Study ...

Rating: 10/10 (4 February 2011)

From the dark and misty streets of New York City's nights, two eyes contemplate the desolated degradation of society  the one who sees is Travis Bickle, Martin Scorsese's most tormented character, a cinematic icon who, through Robert De Niro's unforgettable performance, personifies the roots of violence in the most significant way.
Travis Bickle, less by vocation than because of his insomnia, works as a nighttime taxi driver. The sleeping problem is the reason of Travis' job, and certainly not the cure for the alienating feeling about to ravage his soul, the torment devouring his heart, despite a "clear conscience". The opening shot of the film is a close-up on Travis' eyes; literally, he can't sleep means he can't shut his eyes, he can't ignore what happens before them. He sees because he's lucid. Junkies, whores, drug-selling pimps etc, all the miserable and rotten (low) life of the disillusioned post-Watergate America inspires Travis a pitiless comment: a rain should come out and wash all this filth. This rain is expected as redemption, creating at the same time, a psychological discomfort due to the guilt of being a simple observant just waiting  The filth sticks on Travis' soul like dirt on clothes and in his mind, if you're a watcher, you're part of the filth, if you're not, you're a 'washer'. Watcher or washer, it seems easier to plant seeds of violence in a land of guilt, and Travis' heart is full of it, like the majority of Marty's lead characters
Travis' psychological odyssey is constantly written in a diary, through a daily routine monotonically regulated by the meter. The meter governs Travis' life like the clock of a psychological ticking bomb, which is is almost defused by an angelic creature named Betsy, a beautiful sophisticated blonde, played by Cybill Shepherd, and crystallizing whatever Travis needs to become a better man. Symbolically, when she notices him the first time, it's raining as if she was the providential rain that would wash Travis' dirtied soul  And the interactions between Travis and Betsy emphasize the intelligence of the film, because it raises an interesting question about Travis's responsibilities in his psychological troubles. Is he necessarily a victim of the system? Of a post-Vietnam trauma, or any other alienation? or is he just a social misfit in the pathetic sense of the word?
Travis Bickle was listed number 30 on AFI's Top 50 cinematic villains; many will argue he's an antihero. I don't think his outcast status should automatically prevent him from the 'villain' label, which doesn't make him any less fascinating. Anti-hero or villain, he's clearly a sociopath driven by a growing feeling of hostility which after the rejection by his country, by society, and women, hit him like a real psychic boomerang. The gap between Travis and society grows larger, and nature hates emptiness. Gaps must be filled. When Travis criticized Betsy's nerdy colleague, he indirectly summed up his personal philosophy "he puts his energy in the wrong directions", he said. Life is about putting energy somewhere. And Travis is not suicidal, despite his troubles. Travis' life is about filling gaps, which catalyzes his decision not to be a watcher, these are the roots of violence: not to take it anymore. We're not born violent, it's an existential choice expressed through acts, not thoughts. Violence is a physical energy; the rest is bullshit, pure hypocrisy like denouncing a situation without having the guts to fight it.
Travis doesn't belong to the street, to society, so when all the efforts for normality and happiness become useless rejection, frustration, anger, alienation, all that negative energy plants seeds of violence in the land of guilt, to let a ferocious desire of revenge grow. Travis' energy is injected in a new skin, for a new goal, a selfish one, a redeeming one, in his burning eyes: revenge. The ticking bomb works again, and the explosion is imminent.
Travis' legendary training, canalizing 100% of his energy for revenge, builds him a kind of supernatural strength through push-ups, exercises to increase pain resistance, and rapidity to draw a gun. The legendary "You're talking to me" scene, one of the most impacting and iconic movie quotes, can be summed up in one word: paranoia. Travis imagines himself talking to his victim; eager to be pushed, to have an excuse to use his gun. He asks for trouble, any opportunity to pull the trigger is welcome, and he's not afraid, he's got nothing to lose. Violent skills and paranoia, the deathblow that start the tickling bomb's countdown
Travis has two choices: and violence is the medium of both, one is an assassination attempt and the other, concerns the situation of an underage prostitute, Iris, portrayed in a scarily authentic performance by a young Jodie Foster. Like the iris, she lives in the middle of Travis' eyes, in the center of his thoughts. She's an innocent flower that needs help, and she's Travis redemption. He can be a killer or a hero but the point of the film is not to make us root for Travis, but to show how violence works as a hazardous double edged sword. A bloody massacre can have positive consequences by purging bad blood, just like good intentions can pave the road to hell. In both cases, violence acts as a redeemer for the guilt-carrier soul, and as en exorcism of the frustration and anger's demons, violence like an operatic climax of alienation.
Marty's masterpiece is a character study that invites us to explore the very roots of violence, through Travis Bickle, a character who's 'talking to us' by writing redemption in bloody letters, redeeming violence no less horrifying than the condemnable one. The irony is that after watching Marty's masterpiece, even the most horrifyingly violent acts that can't be justified, can at least be explained. Indeed, even the victims are not always innocent