Scorsese's finest hour - and that's saying something

Rating: 10/10 (3 February 2017)

Many filmmakers have tried to tackle the "isolated" and "alienated" individual (and usually end up excreting pretentious borefests consisting of a solemn individual staring at walls and smoking cigarettes, preferably in French) but 'Taxi Driver' is the real deal. No other film has dealt with alienation and loneliness in such a raw and hard-hitting way. Travis' downward spiral of ever increasing disconnection from the outer world and festering disgust toward it is darker than any horror movie I've ever seen - watch the scene with the jealous husband (played by Scorsese himself) for a demonstration.
'Taxi Driver' has it all: the top-notch performances (especially De Niro's portrayal of the disaffected titular character), Bernard Herrman's moody score (which maintains a sense of underlying threat, with the gentler moments only lasting so long before those 'ill- boding' horns and drums come marching in again) and the gritty visuals - New York really does look like Hell's Kitchen here, with the steam from the sewers, the sleazy reddened neon-lights and the pimps/hookers/junkies/crooks roaming the sidewalks like walking dead transforming the city to some sort of nocturnal urban pandemonium.
'Taxi Driver' drives on pure raw emotion and mood, and is one of those rare cinematic jewels worthy of the abundance of praise it constantly receives. Perhaps Scorsese's finest hour.