Film: Mean Streets
Starring: Harvey Keitel, Robert de Niro
Director: Martin Scorcese
Impressions: I was scrolling Tubi looking for something to watch on the treadmill when I came across Mean Streets. The film is an emotional touchstone for me. It reminds me of a time in college when I was really getting into music and film, which made me feel more sophisticated than I was at the time.
I didn’t like Mean Streets for its story or technical merits. I had little understanding of such things. But I was attracted to its style, soundtrack, and reputation. This film made Martin Scorcese and it was a precursor to his great masterpieces (Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and Goodfellas). I took a prideful pleasure in appreciating this lesser known gem, though my affinity was decidedly superficial. Seeing it again left a different impression. Mean Streets offers one of the more nuanced and disconcerting presentations of sin I have seen on film. Perhaps most intriguing, it aptly demonstrates how faulty theology serves as a cover for unrepentant concupiscence and spiritual self-aggrandizement.
The movie explores the plight of a sinner seeking redemption. Charlie (Harvey Keitel) is a mob associate who regularly engages in illegal activity. He is also a Catholic haunted by guilt; sometimes waking from sleep worrying about the state of his soul.
The film begins with Charlie’s inner monologue: “You don't make up for your sins in church. You do it in the streets. You do it at home. The rest is bullshit, and you know it.” It seems Charlie believes that he is responsible for his own salvation. This directly contradicts Christian doctrine, which affirms that we are saved by Christ through his mercy. From a Christian perspective, there is no “making up” for our sins. Christ did the making up for us. Our job is to repent. As Catholics, we repent by worshiping God, taking the Eucharist, cultivating virtue, and going to confession when we sin. Unfortunately, Charlie’s not so keen on confession. In one of the first scenes, we hear Charlie say…
Okay, okay, I just come out of confession, right? Right. And the priest gives me the usual penance, right? Ten hail Marys, ten Our Fathers, ten whatever. Now, you know the next week I'm going to come back and he just going to give me another ten Hail Marys and another ten Our Fathers, and... And I mean you know how I feel about that shit. Those things, they don't mean anything to me, they're just words. Now that may be okay for the others, but it just doesn't work for me. I mean, if I do something wrong I just want to pay for it my way. So I do my own penance for my own sins.
Why would a Catholic say this? What is the psychology here? We get a big clue in the following scene.
Charlie goes to a bar, cavorts with other low-level mobsters, and watches topless dancers. Clearly very comfortable in this environment, Charlie steps up onstage to dance with one of the girls. This behavior suggests that Charlie isn’t all that interested in repentance. If he is so concerned about making up for his sins “in the streets”, perhaps he could start by not dancing with strippers. Charlie doesn’t want to be redeemed in reality. He just wants to be redeemed in his own mind; to do “(his) own penance for (his) own sins”.
For “penance”, he decides to play savior for his friend Johnny Boy (Robert de Niro) Johnny is a charismatic degenerate with multiple outstanding debts. Charlie likes the idea of helping Johnny, whom he sees as a lost soul. Focusing on Johnny distracts Charlie from accurately assessing and getting control of his own passions. He seems to think of himself as Johnny’s guardian angel and begins to fancy himself a saint in the city. Of course he is far from saintly and his girlfriend Teresa sees through his pretensions.
Charlie: That's all that's important to me now.
Teresa: Right. Guys like my cousin Johnny.
Charlie: No, not exactly your cousin Johnny.
Teresa: Why I hope not because he is crazy! I mean he is driving me nuts! I don't know how you can be with him all the time. He's like an insane person!
Charlie: What is the matter with you? How can you talk to me about him? He's your own cousin.
Teresa: Oh, fuck him!
Charlie: That's terrible. Who's gonna help him if I don't? That's what's the matter. Nobody, nobody tries anymore.
Teresa: Tries what?
Charlie: Tries to - to help, that's all. To help people.
Teresa: You help yourself first.
Charlie: Bullshit, Teresa! That's where you're all wrong. Francis of Assisi had it all down. He knew!
Teresa: What are you talkin' about?
Charlie: He knew!
Teresa: What are you talkin' about? St. Francis didn't run numbers.
Teresa may have a self-centered philosophy, but she also sees Charlie for what he is. There is nothing wrong with idolizing Francis of Assisi, but Charlie isn’t doing what Francis did. More to the point, he isn’t willing to do what Francis did. He won’t stop sleeping with Teresa. He won’t sell all he has and give it to the poor. He won’t stop getting drunk and he won’t stop living like the people around him.
Charlie knows he is a sinner, but he doesn’t want to change. He effectively says, “Lord make me chaste, but not yet.” Unsurprisingly, he feels guilty and the cognitive dissonance builds. Some might say he rejects confession to relieve his psychological tension. I think he does it to protect his vices.
Charlie’s argument for rejecting sacramental grace is entirely solipsistic. He doesn’t “feel” forgiven when he goes to confession. It doesn’t “mean anything to (him)” because it’s “just words”. Therefore, he ought to do his own penance, right? Charlie doesn’t feel the need to consider what God wants from him. He can be what he wants to be, which is someone who “tries to help people.”
The problem is that he doesn’t actually help Johnny; he enables him. If Charlie thought for a second about what Johnny really needed, he would stop trying to rescue him from the consequences of his bad behavior. Johnny predictably takes advantage of Charlie’s kid-gloves approach, using deception and emotional manipulation to elicit sympathy.
Johnny Boy to Charlie: You don't know what happened to me. I'm so depressed about other things, I can't worry about payments. You know what I mean? I come home last Tuesday, I had my money, cash, blah blah bing bing, I'm comin' home, I ran into Jimmy Sparks. I owe Jimmy Sparks seven hundred, like for four months, I gotta pay the guy. He lives in my building. He hangs out across the street. I gotta pay the guy, right?
Johnny persists in his prodigal existence. He carouses, spends, and continues to stiff his creditors without remorse. It all comes to a head after Charlie convinces Michael (a loan shark) to accept $20 from Johnny as a good faith gesture. When Charlie and Michael show up to the bar to collect, they find out that Johnny has spent half the money on drinks. Michael rejects the leftover $10, so Johnny feigns incredulity and tells Michael off.
Johnny Boy: You see, I borrow money all over this neighborhood, left and right from every BODY, I never pay them back. So, I can't borrow no money from nobody no more, right? So, who would that leave me to borrow money from but you? I borrow money from you, because you're the only jerk-off around here who I can borrow money from without payin' back, right? You know, 'cause that's what you are, that's what I think of you: a jerk-off.
Michael lunges at Johnny and Johnny pulls a gun. Michael leaves enraged.
After all this, Charlie still tries to protect Johnny by driving him out of town. Teresa insists on going with them. While they are trying to flee, Johnny gets shot in the neck, Charlie takes a bullet in the arm, and Teresa gets injured in a car accident. Charlie tried to help. He thought he could save Johnny and save himself. But everything went to shit because he turned his back on grace.
We all need help that we can’t give to ourselves, and everyone else needs more help than we can provide. However, many of us still cling to the fallacious belief that we can save ourselves and save others. Such mistakes flow naturally from spiritual pride. Charlie didn’t want to face the guilt he earned. He didn’t want what was best for Johnny. He only wanted to feel good about himself. If only Charlie went back to confession, then told Johnny to grow up and do the same.
Charlie presents as earnest until one realizes that his supposed altruism is a thinly veiled expression of self-interest. However, he is relatable to the extent that his self-deception matches our own. We all have bad ideas and ideas have consequences.
I am not sure that Martin Scorcese would agree with my assessment of his work. I think Charlie is meant to be more sympathetic than I suggest. However, conscious or not, Scorcese still shows us the perils of spiritual solipsism.