Martin Scorsese’s violent history of New York is worth seeing for its streets and Daniel Day-Lewis. The revenge story and romance cannot sustain the same interest.
Gangs of New York is worth a long evening, though its revenge story is too slight for the history surrounding it. Martin Scorsese follows gang warfare and corruption through nineteenth-century New York, asking how a city can build a public life out of such brutality. His interest in the place is infectious, and the reconstruction gives him plenty to work with. At 168 minutes, however, the film spends too much time on people it has not made sufficiently interesting.
Dante Ferretti’s production design gives the warring gangs streets that feel inhabited, with a whole city apparently carrying on beyond the principal characters. The density matters, because the rivalries need to seem part of everyday life here. Michael Ballhaus’s photography makes that reconstruction convincing even when the street battles become almost oppressively violent. We were horrified by the opening battle; the sustained bloodshed makes it difficult to treat the fighting as entertainment.
Daniel Day-Lewis gives Bill ‘The Butcher’ Cutting enough personality to compete with all this construction. His performance is extravagant, and properly so: a subdued Bill would disappear into the surrounding mayhem. The ferocity is entertaining even when the man himself is repellent, which makes our attention to him slightly uncomfortable. We want him back whenever he is absent. Leonardo DiCaprio’s Amsterdam Vallon has a difficult job holding the centre, and his determination to take revenge does not provide enough variety.
The screenplay by Jay Cocks, Steven Zaillian and Kenneth Lonergan is least persuasive when it turns to Amsterdam and Jenny Everdeane, played by Cameron Diaz. Diaz brings welcome energy, but Jenny never becomes interesting enough to justify the time spent on the romance. These scenes ask for an emotional investment that the writing has not earned. A gangster film needs convincing reasons for its characters to love and trust each other, especially when they are capable of such violence, and these relationships remain underdeveloped.
Thelma Schoonmaker’s editing gives the confrontations force, but the larger rhythm is less secure. The movement between gang conflict, romance and the city’s politics repeatedly requires the film to get going again. Howard Shore’s music adds to the film’s oppressive atmosphere. It is effective, though another source of weight in a film that rarely needs help making its violence felt.
The broader history is the reason to stay. Scorsese treats corruption as part of the way the city works, not a problem caused by a few conveniently wicked men. Jim Broadbent’s Boss Tweed is welcome because the film becomes more alert whenever it attends to power beyond the rival gangs. Even when the amount of violence grows tiring, it belongs to a society that the film has taken care to establish.
We would make the time for it if historical crime drama is the attraction. Anyone after a tightly plotted revenge thriller should look elsewhere, and the brutality is not incidental. Choose your company accordingly.