Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung - December 19, 2001
From the City's Ashes
By Verena Lueken
It is hot at Rome's Cinecitta movie studios, and smelly on the set. At
high noon, sunlight falls through the haze in the dust. It's late March,
the 118th day of shooting Martin Scorsese's film, "Gangs of New York." The
smoke machines rumble and emit the poisonous smell of kerosene. The
artificial smoke has drifted through the studio's streets ever since the
film, set in 19th-century New York, began shooting seven months before. It
adds to the real fires that are burning everywhere.
At this point the crew is 15 days behind shooting schedule. One day can
cost up to $500,000 (DM1.1 million), but producer Michael Hausman is not
alarmed yet. Pansies and primroses bloom in the small garden in front of
the office barracks. When a problem occurs on the set, he starts pulling
weeds and waters the plants. Hausman has been producing films for 35
years, and he claims to never make a movie if he cannot garden on the
set.
In the third week of filming, the two main characters, Bill the Butcher
and Amsterdam Vallon, ran into each other at New York's long-lost Paradise
Square, which is meticulously recreated in Cinecitta. It was unseasonably
cold that day in Rome. The two walked together towards the harbor, where
the masts of two gigantic sailing ships catch your eye. Now, six months
later, T-shirts dominate the set as the second half of the scene is shot.
The making of this stretched out over seven months, but will be compressed
to a few minutes in the movie, with no evidence of the seasons'
passing.
Scorsese has been thinking about "Gangs of New York" for decades. Back
in 1976, Jay Cocks wrote (based on Henry Ashbury's non-ficiton book "Gangs
of New York") the screenplay about gang wars in New York at the time of
the Civil War, when the city nearly went up in flames during the Draft
Riots, and when the Irish fought the established Americans for food, power
and influence. The battle centered on Five Points, a neighborhood built
over a dump in Lower Manhattan. This was America's first slum, where one
wave of immigrants after another was washed ashore. Freed slaves lived
cheek by jowl with the Chinese and the Irish, later joined by the
Italians. The district was notorious for murder and manslaughter. It
fostered racial coexistence as well as racial conflicts. Countless bars,
bordellos and cabarets held shadowy secrets. In the mid-19th century, Five
Points also drew the first slum tourists. Charles Dickens shuddered at its
poverty, dirt and naked greed, as did Abraham Lincoln.
To make a movie in this setting would be immensely expensive.
Historical photographs were all that was left from that time. Not a single
brick in New York City is in the same place today. Paradise Square, once
the center of Five Points, has disappeared beneath the buildings and
streets of the modern city's court district. Orange Street, where Bill the
Butcher and Amsterdam Vallon are now stopping their walk to debate with
their comrades, has turned into Center Street in Chinatown today. In
Scorsese's childhood, all this was known as Little Italy.
The Tears are Worth It
The images shot at Cinecitta will now become primary evidence for this vanished part of New York. Original documents from that area depicting Five Points were stored in an archive located beneath the World Trade Center and were destroyed on Sept the 11th.
After a prologue set in 1844, "Gangs of New York" is set mainly in the
1860s. Until recently, that was the roughest and most violent time in the
city's history. It was here that the idea of America was tested under
bloodshed, foremost by the Irish who had fled the famine back home. They
represented everything that native-born Americans held in contempt: They
were Catholic and they were poor. Almost worst of all, they spoke Gaelic,
not English.
"Violence was all they had to express themselves. It was their only
chance of being noticed," Scorsese says in an interview in New York many
weeks after the shooting closed. Anarchy reigned. The city and its
politicians were corrupt, the gangs were racist. There was no fire
department, only fire brigades which were rumored to often set the fires
themselves.
Historically true to these widespread fires the set in Cinecitta seems
to smolder. Interior scenes are shot through the haze of oven fires and
petroleum lamps. And everybody here seems to be constantly smoking, too.
But the teary eyes and acrid air are worthwhile, as the video monitors
display stunning images. The smoke adds sharp outlines to the foreground
and blurs the background, creating an astonishing composition in depth.
"Gangs of New York" is a revelation of many visual levels, each with its
own texture. It will show the city as we have never seen it
before.
In New York in mid 19th century, every private dispute and every
political conflict was taken to the street. Even as the fate of the Union
was decided on the battlefields in the South, a different civil war raged
in the city. Scorsese's film will be full of fights, from street battles
to man-to-man punch-outs. A story of private revenge is embroiled within
the wider subject of violence on which America rose.
If it served his cause, Scorsese has never shied away from violent
scenes. The story of "Gangs of New York," the historic as well as the
fictional, is impossible to tell without getting bloody. "On the ashes of
the city that we show," the director says, "New York was built." His film
ends with a view of this modern city, which itself has passed into
history. The last shots of the skyline are dominated by the silhouette of
the Twin Towers.
"Gangs of New York" was financed by Miramax and a group of
international investors. The most expensive project in the studio's
history by far, the film's budget is reported to have been well above $100
million. The studio originally scheduled a pre-Christmas premiere, in the
hope of landing Oscar nominations for Scorsese, his crew and, among
others, the film's stars: Leonardo DiCaprio, Daniel Day-Lewis, Cameron
Diaz, and Liam Neeson.
However, the opening has been postponed. Harvey Weinstein of Miramax,
who is also one of the film's executive producers, believes that after the
devastation of Lower Manhattan the American audience would not yet be
ready to see New York feature as the capital of violence, the violence
which was indispensable to the making of America. Consequently, Miramax
waived its Oscar ambitions for this year and rescheduled the film start
for next May, perhaps with a European premiere at the film festival in
Cannes. Scorsese will need the additional time in the editing room. So
far, the movie is still too long for a successful opening.
Scorsese's team for "Gangs of New York" shows many familiar faces. His
collaboration with Michael Ballhaus, the director of photography, dates
back to "After Hours" in 1985. They enjoy an artistic harmony that leaves
them relaxed and concentrated, even after a long shoot. "We share the
emotional stress," Ballhaus says, "that makes it easier for Marty on the
set."
On a quiet Sunday away from the set, we are sitting on the terrace of
the apartment that Ballhaus and his wife Helga have rented for the time of
filming in a quaint quarter of Rome. We indulge in fruit salad and
pastries, and during all the hours of discussing the film, Ballhaus only
once hints at the time after "Gangs of New York." He looks forward to
taking a break at a spa.
It's no surprise that both Ballhaus and Scorsese have matured since
their last joint project, "The Age of Innocence," in 1993. Since then,
Scorsese has made three other movies, and Ballhaus has shot nine, both
with different crews. But they still share the same aesthetic
vision.
One Loves the Set, the Other the Editing Room
As a natural consequence of their long collaboration, "Gangs of New
York" will contain a number of references to their earlier films, none of
which required any long discussion beforehand. "Marty does not need to
come to the set and tell me where he wants to place the camera and where
the lights," Ballhaus says. "I know what he wants, and I set it up for
him. On the set I try to be of as much help to him as possible, and when
people have questions, they ask me, not him. I like to take over this kind
of responsibility."
Sometimes Scorsese lets Ballhaus take over entirely, especially when
love scenes are to be shot. "He's shy about that," Ballhaus says. "Not
about sex, but when it's about strong feelings, he's grateful for some
help."
Ballhaus is referring to a scene with DiCaprio and Diaz. They have a heated love affair in the movie, which Weinstein insisted to be included in the script to add some erotic thrill to the epic, and everybody agrees that this was a good idea considering the scale of the cast and story. Ballhaus modeled their first passionate encounter on a similar situation between Isabelle Adjani and Daniel Auteuil on a dark street corner in Patrice Chereau's 1994 film, "La Reine Margot." "It's about this urgent desire they feel for each other, and that's something that always gets Marty somewhat uncomfortable."
On the set, regardless of what he does, Ballhaus is the abiding "Zen
Master," as one of his assistants calls him. Scorsese says much the same,
in different words: "Having him on the set gives me a wonderful feeling of
calm." Next to professional authority, composure is the quality that
everyone at Cinecitta attributes to Ballhaus. He helps to smooth
Scorsese's rough edges. And Ballhaus loves to be on the set, while for
Scorsese, the fun starts in the editing room.
No one on the set doubts that "Gangs of New York" will be a
masterpiece. This is neither vanity nor misplaced optimism, but an
indication of the unique conditions under which the film is being made.
The decision to shoot in Cinecitta cut the costs of a production in New
York or Hollywood by about one-half.
But the move also placed the project in an environment highly
advantageous to both Ballhaus and to the film's architect, Dante Ferretti.
Long ago, Ferretti built the sets for six films at Cinecitta for director
Federico Fellini, and he marvels about the craftsmanship of his workshop,
that created a set fit for display in a museum. Every detail was attended
to, no shortcuts were taken, nothing was done "as if." The Chinese pagoda,
with which Scorsese wanted to replicate the bordello in Josef von
Sternberg's 1941 film "The Shanghai Gesture," includes also decorative
elements lifted from the early Chinese theaters on New York's Canal Street
in Chinatown. The wooden stairs sag, as if they have been tormented by
thousands of bootprints through time.
Ballhaus also sees many reasons why "Gangs of New York" is his best
work, and will likely remain so. Most of the Italian technicians who work
on the film do not speak English, which slowed things down greatly,
complicating every detail and inspiring worries among the producers. But
the stop-and-go gave Ballhaus more preparation time than he has ever had
on a production. "There was time to think about how I would solve certain
problems, how to take complicated shots," he says.
Only few people remember movies in their entirety. But even the most
forgetful will recall certain scenes that might have long lost their
original context. These isolated scenes will linger in memory forever. The
opening shot of Orson Welles' "A Touch of Evil" is one of these, as is an
extended shot from Theo Angelopoulos' "Traveling Players" or the final
sequence of Scorsese's "Goodfellas." "Gangs of New York" features more
than a few shots that similarly realize a truly cinematographic manner of
storytelling.
In one scene at the docks, the whole drama of immigration is captured
in a single shot of landing and departing of ships. One ship brings the
Irish newcomers to New York's harbor. There are recruiters for the
American army right behind the gates handing out rifles. Armed like this,
the Irish soldiers are sent on a second ship that is about to leave for
the battlefields of the Civil War in Georgia. From a third vessel coffins
with dead soldiers are unloaded. This is an immensely complicated shot,
one of those that Ballhaus needed extra time to prepare.
'We Do Real Work'
It is this kind of imagery that excites Ballhaus. He recalls his
enthusiasm when he worked with Rainer Werner Fassbinder in Germany, who
also had an extremely visual imagination. Ballhaus' career started with
Fassbinder, with whom he worked until "The Marriage of Maria Braun" in
1979. "Of all American directors that I know," Ballhaus says, "Marty
thinks the most in images. That is extremely inspiring. The dynamic in
each shot, his love for moving the camera, that's wonderful."
Ballhaus is certain that "Gangs of New York" will be a milestone. Not
only because of the sheer size of the project or its impressive cast and
crew, but also because it might be the last of its kind in the history of
the movies. "We won't see many more films like this. There will always be
big action movies, but perhaps no one will ever again invest this kind of
budget and time in an epic period drama," he says.
"Gangs of New York" runs against the trend towards increasingly
synthetic images designed to create an ever greater sensation. "I'm not
interested in that," Ballhaus says. The visual refinement of this film is
as real as is the smoke that filters through the atmosphere;
post-production brush-up is kept to a minimum. Even the big fight scenes
between the gangs were fully staged, without computer assistance. "We do
real work. In the end the film will have about 800 shots," he says. "Only
about 22 of these will have some kind of digital manipulation." That is
almost as incredible as Scorsese's insistence of 15 takes of a scene where
other directors are happy to average a mere five.
A movie's success is unpredictable. Not many masterpieces are listed as
box office hits, and director Scorsese has rarely pulled in a mass
audience. But in this case, the stars should help to draw the crowds.
"This story has all the crowd-pleasing elements," Ballhaus says. "It
starts out with a mad battle scene. It is a very dramatic story with lots
of action, the actors are great, and you will get these magnificent images
from a fantastic set. It will be a true spectacle."
On the morning of the 119th day of shooting, everyone on the set is
waiting for a cloud. Bill the Butcher's gang, the Natives, faces off
against Amsterdam's Dead Rabbits. The fight is about to begin, but not
under bright skies. The key grip, who came with Ballhaus from America
along with the lead lighting technician, is a reliable weatherman. He
seems to always know just the right time to be ready for the shot. Some
clouds appear. Ballhaus rushes out of the cabin where he and Scorsese are
following things on monitors and holds up his light meter, like a doctor
putting a stethoscope to a patient's chest. The grip, however, shakes his
head; these clouds are not good enough.
Since the first day of shooting, Day-Lewis, as Bill the Butcher, has
rarely appeared out of character or without his costume of plaid trousers,
long coat and stovepipe hat. Now, he is nowhere to be seen. DiCaprio hangs
out in front of a house with a couple of his gang, smoking a cigarette.
The sun is shining, the sky is blue. Scorsese comes out to rearrange the
extras, moving a leg here, a whole body there. The "weatherman" looks up,
everyone else looks at him. "We need a juicy cloud," he says. The air is
clear, everything silent. "One more minute," he suddenly announces.
The generators start to rumble, the air fills up with the smell of kerosene. Day-Lewis runs in. A minute later, the fog has come up from the vents. Everyone is in position. The sun disappears. DiCaprio shouts. Day-Lewis throws his coat away and drops his hat. DiCaprio raises an axe. They repeat this eight times. Then the sun comes out again.
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