GANGS OF NEW YORK

By: Abbie Bernstein
Review Date: Tuesday, December 24, 2002

The shaping of history is often a messy, bloody business, something that GANGS OF NEW YORK makes abundantly clear. Director Martin Scorsese and writers Jay Cocks, Steven Zaillian and Kenneth Lonergan, working from Cocks' story, weave together a combination of real-life incident and invention to create a portrait with as many forces at work as they can fit into the frame. This is definitely a case where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts we are awed and moved by the huge turmoil before us, but while we can respect the classic grace of the character arcs, the individual main characters are so archetypal that we remain at a distance from their particular experiences.

In the Five Points ghetto of New York, xenophobic Natives led by Bill "The Butcher" Cutting (Daniel Day-Lewis) successfully triumph over the Irish immigrant Dead Rabbit gang led by "Priest" Vallon (Liam Neeson) when Bill stabs Vallon to death during pitched battle. Vallon's young son is sent away to the fearsome Hellgate School. In 1862, the now-grown son, who calls himself Amsterdam (Leonardo DiCaprio) returns to the Five Points, bent on avenging his father's death. To that end, he works his way into Bill's confidence. Bill, not knowing the intelligent and brave young man's true identity, comes to look upon Amsterdam as a surrogate son and Amsterdam, despite himself, responds in kind to some extent. Amsterdam also falls for pretty prostitute Jenny Everdeane (Cameron Diaz), who has her own complicated past with Bill. Meanwhile, the association with Bill brings Amsterdam into the orbit of supreme Tammany Hall politician Boss Tweed (Jim Broadbent), Priest's old fighter-for-hire "Monk" McGinn (Brendan Gleeson) and Amsterdam's childhood pal Johnny (Henry Thomas), now in Bill's employ. Immigration pouring in from the docks and the U.S. government's hunger for soldiers to fight against the Confederacy down South also have an enormous effect on everything in the vicinity, even those people who are so caught up in their own affairs that they don't note larger forces at work until the last moment.

There is

so much happening here, depicted with so much assurance, that we become immersed in the texture, sound and look of the world. Showing the Irish gangs preparing in caves before taking on Bill's Natives on the one hand underscores the ancient nature of tribal conflict and on the other hand manages not to look incongruous in the middle of 19^th-century lower Manhattan. We also get entirely caught up in the swirl of politics, not least because Broadbent's pragmatic Tweed is one of the most cohesive characters in the story the man is endlessly self-serving yet always remarkably sensible.

The personal drama works fairly well, largely because Day-Lewis tackles Bill's vibrating rage and endless defensiveness with such conviction we do understand that Bill's monstrousness is the only response he can muster to make sense of the losses that have blighted his life, without ever losing sight of the fact that he is a monster. The movie does give him some Shakespeare flaws pride, wrath and the desire for a worthy adversary that has been the bane of many an otherwise invincible villain since the dawn of storytelling that serve the action but conflict with common sense.

Amsterdam, in contrast, is defined by qualities that he lacks we know he is a good guy because he is able to lead without overt sadism and without total raving hatred of the Other on all fronts (he has a black lieutenant), albeit he does play on the Us Vs. Them sentiments of his fellow immigrants. He also stands up to torture with heroic endurance. This aside, we don't see enough of his workings to fully appreciate him as a magnetic force (although, as the film was reportedly edited down to its current 168-minute length from a much longer running time, this may be one of the sacrifices made).

The conflict between Amsterdam and Bill is therefore tragic and cinematic, but it doesn't have the nuances to make us feel that that something unique will vanish from the world if we lose either or both of the men. Lacking this, we are still caught up in the visceral whirl of the danger and violence on all sides we are impressed and at times even overwhelmed by the scope and peril, but we never feel we're in personal emotional danger. The most compelling and intricate characters are supporting we wish we could see more of Broadbent's wily, thoughtful Tweed and Gleeson's prudent warrior.

GANGS OF NEW YORK is a fully-realized piece that puts swift-flowing action and storytelling together with a rush of information about things from the huge (the draft riots) to the tiny (lit candles placed on dead bodies as a courtesy to the living) that make us feel as though we are living for a while in the realm of the title. We never feel in our hearts as concerned as we might about what happens to the people we spend the most time with while we're there, but we're fascinated all the same and we believe in what we see and hear.

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