This old fart has never made a good movie

Gangs of New York is good but also kind of retarded

The worst parts of Raging Bull are the fights, if he took them out, it'd be one of the greats. Too many flashy and overly subjective techniques forcing me to care. If Scorsese made the whole picture pathetic and ugly instead of injecting catharsis, we'd have a great American picture on our hands instead of Imitation New Wave with Kubrick-style sloppily appropriated classical tunes.

The main issue is that it already had natural catharsis from the outset. The first time La Motta coaxes Vicki, he attained uncanny warmth and understanding without using a dolly zoom. Hearing the neighborhood outside while they're talking is an interesting reversal from the brutality of first introduction, and you know the act beforehand itself is already "dirty" and "inappropriate"

The brutality itself as well is already cathartic. What people like this will never understand is the point of view of La Motta, not the people around him. Chances of glory always at foothold, seeking conflict, seeking challenge, but always being weighted down by the weak. They can't handle La Motta, so they try to detain instead of fight.

This bait is a D+ at best

>copy-pasting griffithfag's lbxd reviews
kinda based desu

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nationalreview.com/2017/01/assassins-creed-gets-religion-better-scorseses-silence-does/

Silly Assassin’s Creed gets religion more than the ponderous and punishing Silence does.

Martin Scorsese’s Silence almost offers a perfect allegory for godlessness in the age of Gawker and BuzzFeed. Agony by agony, Silence imitates the classic films about religious intolerance and spiritual doubt: Father Rodrigues and Father Garupe hide in tall ferns from avenging warlords, evoking Sternberg’s Anatahan (1953); their witnessing of enslavement recollects Mizoguchi’s Sansho the Bailiff (1954); their surprise at the Japanese converts’ devotion recalls Borzage’s The Big Fisherman (1959); Rodrigues’s questioning by a devious old samurai (Issey Ogata) is a twist on Bresson’s Diary of a Country Priest (1951); a recurring Judas figure representing abject mankind brings to mind Buñuel’s Simon of the Desert (1965); an icon of enduring faith references Bertolucci’s The Last Emperor (1987); even Neeson’s appearance unfortunately brings to mind Batman Begins (2005). Yet none of these references ultimately increases our understanding of today’s spiritual and cultural crisis; these scenes are inscrutable, as though a movie buff were citing a mixed-up catechism.

After the genuine internal journey of Mean Streets (1973), which looked at Roman Catholicism among urban American hooligans, Scorsese never again showed suffering; he hid his personal dilemma behind violent macho bravado. (Raging Bull’s religious overtones were portentous and irrelevant to the film’s egotistical flourishes.) This time, Scorsese tries an obscure religious perspective, using a more composed, dignified, “classical” style, which makes this a religious movie without the fervor of either a penitent or a convert. There’s one great shot in which Rodrigo Prieto’s camera tilts up from a boat in churning seas to the sun in clouds, but even this is an image of confusion.

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>This film about spirituality and faith suffers from the lack of both. Scorsese wallows in all manner of cruel attacks against faith — unlike Hacksaw Ridge and unlike Sansho the Bailiff. When he repeatedly subjects Father Rodrigues (and the audience) to the blasphemy of stepping on a Christ icon, it feels like self-flagellation, at odds with the effort to defy contemporary Hollywood nihilism. Father Rodrigues respects Japan’s “hidden Christians” for believing “the promise that their suffering would not end in nothingness but in salvation,” yet Scorsese shows that faith in words only. Instead, one landscape nearly reproduces the sinister cover of Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy album; perhaps Scorsese has never heard Morrissey’s “I Have Forgiven Jesus.”

>Silence takes a juvenile approach to what Ingmar Bergman already explored in his Sixties “Silence of God” trilogy: Through a Glass Darkly (1961), Winter Light (1963), and The Silence (1963). Those films, famous at one time on the long-gone art-movie circuit, depicted the spiritual agony of Christians in the modern, secular world. But Scorsese, belonging to the draft-dodging generation of movie-brat auteurs (Coppola, Spielberg, DePalma), seems to have lost touch with the cultural basis of Bergman’s spiritual questioning, as well as Fellini’s, Rossellini’s, and the subversive Buñuel’s.

>Just as the increasingly faithless movie-brats have taken simplistic, anti-West, progressive stances on political history and gone silent on the contemporary persecution of Christians, Silence shows little real interest in the ISIS and Taliban allegory it initially presents. Silence becomes a weirdly punishing chronicle of the tests that Christians endure to hold on to their faith in the face of assaults from enemies. Scorsese naïvely and sentimentally equates this troubling history — and its all-too-modern counterpart in the Middle East and elsewhere — with a crisis of the heart.

>The Departed
>Gangs of New York
>No Mean Streets
>No Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore
>No Raging Bull
>No King of Comedy
>No After Hours
>No Last Temptation of Christ
>No Last Waltz
>No Living in the Material World
>No No Direction Home

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He went downhill once he teamed up with DiCaprio for easy money. Gangs of New York, Aviator, Departed, Shutter Island, Wolf of Wall Street, all trash.

His best works are Who's That Knocking at My Door, Mean Streets, and Raging Bull.

I don't mind women posting on this board but you really should keep your stupid cunt opinions to yourself

worst review ever. missing the plot of the movie this hard should be grounds for getting fired

Why do you faggots all pretend to like The Departed? Are you all that insecure?