His antiheroes are battered saints, his best films asthmatic and personal: The violent young mooks of Mean Streets (1973), Taxi Driver (1976) and Goodfellas (1990) are nervy New Yorkers full of regret, if not guilt. Before Tarantino, Marty was the acolyte of pop trash who wanted to make Films. The clash between art and pulp shades his work.
Scorsese is a stylist. At first glance, New York, New York (1977) is dire showmanship. It holds up better than Raging Bull (1980), though, the latter the art film side of Body and Soul (1947, dir. Robert Rossen). Bull jabs brilliantly (e.g., taut edits and a blunt portrayal of manimal magnetism), but needs sweetening. In Taxi Driver (1976), Robert De Niro’s nutjob is a bit tender. In Bull the actor is a grotesque: he never crosses the identification gap for the viewer. It’s a poor expose of macho pigs, yet a fine showcase for De Niro.
Like Casino (1995), Cape Fear (1991) and Bringing Out the Dead (1999), The Departed (2006) is pure mechanics — eminently watchable and no more. It’s also the title for which Scorsese nabbed his first Oscar. The Bob Dylan documentary, No Direction Home (2005), is by turns flat and astounding (dig the Pennebaker footage).
Scorsese & De Niro peaked a long time ago, almost killing themselves in the process. Out of the wilderness they became craftsmen. No longer riddled with coke, the 75-year-old Scorsese may want to dial down.
The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) proves he has no such desire, and good for him.