Scorsese still curious about cinema’s possibilities
Events may change. Check before attending. — Patty Jenkins ’50s, that’s it. (Sam) Peckinpah finished that. ‘Wild Bunch,’ that’s the end. Now they’re different,” he said. “It represented a certain time in who we were as a nation and a certain time in the world — and the end of the studio system. It was a genre. That folklore is gone.”
Scorsese, after conversations with DiCaprio, pivoted to the story of Ernest and Mollie and a perspective closer to Osage Nation. Consultations with the tribe continued and expanded to include accurately capturing language, traditional clothing and customs.
“It’s historical that Indigenous Peoples can tell their story at this level. That’s never happened before as far as I know,” said Geoffrey Standing Bear, Principal Chief of Osage Nation. “It took somebody who could know that we’ve been betrayed for hundreds of years. He wrote a story about betrayal of trust.”
Scorsese has for years been the preeminent conscience of cinema, passionately arguing for the place of personal filmmaking in an era of moviegoing where films can be devalued as “content,” theater screens are monopolized by Marvel and big-screen vision can be shrunk down on streaming platforms.
“I’m trying to keep alive the sense that cinema is an art form,” Scorsese said. “The next generation may not see it that way because as children and younger people, they’re exposed to films that are wonderful entertainment, beautifully made, but are purely diversionary. I think cinema can enrich your life.”
“As I’m leaving, I’m trying to say: Remember, this can really be something beautiful in your life.”
The pressure of time is weighing more heavily on Scorsese, too. He has, he has said, maybe two more feature films left in him. Currently in the mix are an adaptation of Grann’s latest book, the 18th-century shipwreck tale “The Wager,” and an adaptation of Marilynne Robinson’s “Home.”
“He’s uncompromising. He just does what he feels he really wants to look into,” said Rodrigo Prieto, Scorsese’s cinematographer on “Flower Moon,” as well as his last three feature films.
“You can feel that it’s a personal exploration of his own psyche,” added Prieto. “In doing that, he allows growth for everybody, in a way, to really look into these characters who might be doing things we might find very objectionable. I can’t think of many other filmmakers who attempt at such a level of empathy and understanding.”
Time for Scorsese may be waning but curiosity is as abundant as ever. Recent reading for him includes a new translation of Alessandro Manzoni’s “The Betrothed.” Some old favorites he can’t help but keep revisiting.
“If I’m curious about something, I think I’ll find a way — if I hold out, if I hold up — to try to make something about it on film,” he said. “My curiosity is still there.”
So, too, is his continued astonishment at cinema and its capacity to transfix. Sometimes, Scorsese can hardly believe it. The other day he watched the Val Lewton-produced 1945 horror film “The Isle of the Dead,” with Boris Karloff.
“Really? How many more times am I going to see that?” Scorsese said, laughing at himself. “It’s their looks and their faces and the way (Karloff ) moves. When I first saw it as a child, a young teenager, I was terrified by the film and the silences of it. The sense of contamination. I still get stuck on it.”