Martin Scorsese was coming off Taxi Driver. He was the king of the world, or at least the king of gritty, street-level cinema that made your skin crawl in the best way possible. Then, he decided to make a musical. Not just any musical, but a sprawling, cocaine-fueled, neon-drenched tribute to the big band era that almost derailed his entire career. Honestly, the New York New York film 1977 is one of those rare cinematic artifacts that feels like it’s vibrating with the nervous energy of its creator. It’s loud. It’s abrasive. It’s gorgeous. It’s a total disaster that somehow produced the most famous song in the history of the world.
You’ve probably heard the title track a thousand times at weddings or Yankees games. Frank Sinatra made it an anthem, but in the context of the movie, it’s actually kind of heartbreaking.
The Collision of Old Hollywood and New Grit
The 1970s was a weird time for movies. The "Movie Brats"—Scorsese, Coppola, Spielberg, Lucas—were taking over, but they were still obsessed with the ghosts of the past. Scorsese wanted to mash together the artifice of 1940s soundstage musicals with the raw, improvisational style of the French New Wave. He didn't want real streets. He wanted painted backdrops that looked like painted backdrops. He wanted the artifice to be the point.
Robert De Niro plays Jimmy Doyle, an aspiring saxophonist who is, to put it mildly, a jerk. He’s relentless. He’s talented. He’s incredibly difficult to like. Opposite him is Liza Minnelli as Francine Evans, a singer who represents the legacy of her mother, Judy Garland, while trying to forge something new.
Their chemistry isn't "romantic" in the traditional sense. It’s more like a chemical reaction that might explode at any second. They met on V-J Day, 1945. The war is over, the world is supposed to be happy, but Jimmy is just looking for a girl and a gig, in that order.
The production was a nightmare. Scorsese has been open about his heavy drug use during this period, particularly cocaine, which contributed to the film’s erratic pacing and over-the-top scale. The script was barely there. Actors were encouraged to improvise long, rambling scenes that felt more like John Cassavetes than MGM. Imagine trying to film a tightly choreographed musical while everyone is making up their lines on the fly. It was chaos.
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Why the Critics Hated It (At First)
When people went to see the New York New York film 1977, they expected Singin' in the Rain. Instead, they got a two-and-a-half-hour character study about two people who are fundamentally wrong for each other. It’s a "feel-bad" musical.
The critics weren't kind. Pauline Kael, who usually loved Scorsese, felt it was a missed opportunity. People found De Niro's character too grating. They weren't wrong; Jimmy Doyle is a lot to handle. He’s a guy who will blow a sax solo in your face to prove a point. But that’s the reality of the creative ego. Scorsese wasn't interested in a fairytale. He was interested in how two artists can love each other and still destroy their relationship because their ambition is simply too big for one room.
The movie cost about $14 million, which was a lot back then. It made back a fraction of that at the box office. It was considered a massive flop. Scorsese was devastated. He’s often said that the failure of this movie, combined with his health issues, led him to a dark place before he eventually "saved" himself by making Raging Bull.
The Music That Outlived the Movie
John Kander and Fred Ebb wrote the music. These are the legends behind Cabaret and Chicago. They knew how to write a hook. But here’s a fun bit of trivia: De Niro actually hated the original version of the title song "New York, New York." He thought it was too weak. He told Kander and Ebb to go back and write something better.
They were pissed. They were professionals, and here was this actor telling them their song sucked. But they went back to their hotel and wrote the version we all know today out of pure spite. That "da-da-da-da-da" intro? That was born from frustration.
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Liza Minnelli performs it at the end of the film as a superstar. She’s made it. Jimmy is watching from the wings, or from the street, and you realize the city won. The city is the third character. It’s the thing that brought them together and the thing that eventually ate their relationship alive.
- Production Design: Boris Leven, who worked on West Side Story, created the sets. They are intentional throwbacks.
- The Saxophone: De Niro actually learned to play the sax. Well, he learned the fingerings so he would look authentic, though the actual playing was dubbed by Georgie Auld.
- The Length: The original cut was massive. Even the theatrical release felt bloated to audiences used to the tight editing of The Godfather.
A Masterclass in Stylistic Excess
If you watch the movie today, you see a director who is absolutely fearless. Scorsese wasn't playing it safe. He used the "Iris" shot—that old-school technique where the frame closes in a circle—and vibrant, almost sickly saturated colors. It looks like a dream that’s slowly turning into a hangover.
The scene where Jimmy and Francine get married in a courthouse is a perfect example of the film’s tone. It’s not romantic. It’s rushed, slightly awkward, and feels like a mistake even as it's happening. Scorsese uses the camera to trap them. Even in wide shots of the massive sets, you feel a sense of claustrophobia.
There's a sequence called "Happy Endings" that was actually cut from the original theatrical release because the movie was already too long. It’s a film-within-a-film musical number that is pure Hollywood gold. It was restored in later versions, and honestly, you haven't seen the New York New York film 1977 until you've seen that sequence. It’s the peak of Liza’s performance.
The Legacy of a "Failure"
It’s weird how we define success in film. If you look at the numbers, this movie failed. If you look at the cultural impact, it’s a giant. Without this movie, Scorsese might never have found the discipline he brought to his 80s work. It was his "purgatory" project.
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It also served as a bridge. It bridged the gap between the classic studio system and the modern era. It proved that you could take the tropes of a dead genre and inject them with the messy, ugly reality of human relationships.
Today, cinephiles look back at it as a misunderstood masterpiece. Or at least a very interesting failure. It’s a movie that demands you pay attention to it. It’s not background noise. You can’t just "put it on." You have to experience the friction of it.
The ending is particularly poignant. No spoilers, but it doesn't give you the easy out. It respects the characters enough to let them be who they are: flawed, ambitious, and ultimately, solitary. It’s a very "New York" ending.
What You Should Do Next
If you want to actually appreciate what Scorsese was doing, don't just watch the highlights on YouTube.
- Watch the Restored Version: Make sure you find the cut that includes the "Happy Endings" musical number. It changes the entire rhythm of the third act.
- Listen to the Soundtrack: Before you watch, listen to the Kander and Ebb score. It’s brilliant jazz-influenced work that stands on its own.
- Compare it to La La Land: Damien Chazelle clearly took a lot of inspiration from this film. Seeing the two side-by-side shows how the "bittersweet musical" evolved over forty years.
- Read Scorsese on Scorsese: He has some incredibly honest interviews about his state of mind during this production. It adds a whole layer of meta-commentary to the experience.
The New York New York film 1977 isn't a perfect movie, but perfect movies are often boring. This is a film with a pulse, a temper, and a massive heart. It’s a reminder that even the greats sometimes swing for the fences and miss, but the sound of the bat hitting the ball is still worth hearing. It remains a essential piece of the 1970s "New Hollywood" puzzle.
Go watch it for the visuals, stay for Liza's voice, and try not to get too annoyed by De Niro’s character. He’s supposed to be that way. That’s the point. It’s a movie about the cost of being great, and in 1977, Martin Scorsese was paying that cost in real-time.