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    A Film Festival in the Back of a Taxi

    The TaxiFilmFest is partly a protest over the miserable state of Berlin’s taxi industry. But it’s also a celebration of the cab’s iconic place in the urban cultural landscape.Some of international cinema’s biggest names gathered on Tuesday night at the Berlin International Film Festival as the event honored Martin Scorsese with a lifetime achievement award. Before accepting his trophy, Scorsese listened as the German director Wim Wenders gave a laudatory speech to an audience including celebrities and local dignitaries.Just around the corner, parked in the middle of a busy thoroughfare, a group of Berlin’s taxi drivers crammed into the back of a worn-out taxi van to watch a double-feature capped by Scorsese’s 1976 movie “Taxi Driver.”Klaus Meier, who has been driving a cab in Berlin since 1985, handed out bottles of soda and beer, popping the caps with the blade of a pocketknife. Irene Jaxtheimer, who runs a taxi company, passed around homemade popcorn. A generator outside the cab powered a modest television, a DVD player and a small electric heater.The unconventional screening, just outside a centerpiece event for one of Europe’s most prestigious film festivals, was part of the makeshift TaxiFilmFest. Running through Sunday, it is partly a protest over the miserable state of the taxi industry these days and partly a counterfestival to celebrate the taxi cab’s iconic place in the urban cultural landscape.It’s also in objection to an exclusive partnership deal between the festival, known locally as the Berlinale, and the ride-hailing giant Uber to ferry filmmakers between the city’s movie theaters during the event. The deep-pocketed Silicon Valley company has drawn the ire of traditional cabdrivers the world over, and the protesters who packed in for the TaxiFilmFest screenings were railing against what they see as a too lightly regulated rival.Beeping horns from the busy street outside — some of them coming from sleek black Uber vehicles emblazoned with the Berlinale logo — blended with the street scenes from “Taxi Driver” playing on the tinny television speakers. “Ah, I really miss those mechanical fare boxes!” Meier said as the fares ticked away in the onscreen cab of the movie’s unhinged antihero, Travis Bickle, who drives around mid-’70s New York with growing hatred and menace.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Leonardo DiCaprio Plays Dim in ‘Killers of the Flower Moon’

    Leonardo DiCaprio’s Ernest is unlike any Scorsese protagonist because, well, he’s dumb as rocks. And that changes the film in a fundamental way.The demimondes depicted by the American master Martin Scorsese vary widely — his New York stories alone span three centuries — but they have one common requirement: It takes intelligence, of one kind or another, to navigate them. His protagonists are smart, street smart, shrewd, skillful or some combination of those qualities as a rule.That rule is broken in “Killers of the Flower Moon.” Normally, a character like Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) — a World War I veteran turned henchman in a plot to murder Osage people for their oil profits in 1920s Oklahoma — would either rise to the top of his uncle Bill Hale’s organization, or wise up and fight to stop it on his own. Ernest does neither, precisely because he lacks the qualities Scorsese has spent a lifetime depicting.Henry Hill (Ray Liotta with Lorraine Bracco) serves as our guide to the Mafia in “Goodfellas.”Warner Bros.The quintessential Scorsese protagonist, Henry Hill (Ray Liotta) also serves as the narrator of “Goodfellas.” It’s not just that he is a canny operator who helps plan a fictional version of the most lucrative heist in American history — his voice and his street smarts guide us through the Mafia’s underground society. It’s difficult to imagine Ernest having the know-how to pull off either task.DiCaprio in “Gangs of New York.” To survive, his character has to think fast.Ernest is not the first DiCaprio character to live a double life in Scorsese’s world. Amsterdam Vallon and Billy Costigan, his characters in “Gangs of New York” and “The Departed,” are undercover agents embedded in sophisticated crime organizations. They must think on their feet much faster than a man whose only task is to swindle a sick woman.DiCaprio in “The Aviator” as Howard Hughes, a leader more typical of a Scorsese protagonist.Miramax FilmsIn his more antiheroic roles for Scorsese, DiCaprio has played leaders like the tycoon Howard Hughes (“The Aviator”) and the stock scammer Jordan Belfort (“The Wolf of Wall Street”), rather than stooges like Ernest.“Ace” Rothstein (Robert De Niro with Sharon Stone) dealt with various risks in “Casino.”Universal PicturesSam Rothstein, a.k.a. Ace (Robert De Niro), the mob-associated gambling executive in “Casino,” and Jesus of Nazareth (Willem Dafoe) in “The Last Temptation of Christ” are also leaders, ones who operate under great personal physical risk at that. Their very different lives routinely present them with challenges the likes of Ernest could never surmount.Daniel Day-Lewis and Michelle Pfeiffer as a couple figuring out their position in a stratified society.Philip Caruso/Columbia PicturesThe same goes for Newland Archer (Daniel Day-Lewis) and Countess Ellen Olenska (Michelle Pfeiffer) from “The Age of Innocence.” Their doomed romance forces them to navigate the societal mores of wealth and status, with no all-powerful figure like King Hale (De Niro) to back them up.De Niro as Travis Bickle in “Taxi Driver.” He was expert with weapons, if not social cues.Sony PicturesNo one would mistake Travis Bickle or Jake LaMotta, the iconic De Niro characters from “Taxi Driver” and “Raging Bull,” for geniuses, but each was brilliant in his own way at the application of violence.As a comedian, Rupert Pupkin (De Niro, with Jerry Lewis) isn’t too sharp but he has other skills.20th Century FoxUnlike Bickle or LaMotta, Rupert Pupkin, the painfully unfunny would-be comedian played by De Niro in “The King of Comedy,” is no good at all at his chosen field. However, he successfully carries out a plan to kidnap the talk-show host Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis) and ransom him for a turn in the spotlight.Paul Hackett (Griffin Dunne) has seen better days in “After Hours.”Warner BrosPerhaps the closest a Scorsese character gets to Ernest is Paul Hackett (Griffin Dunne) in the black comedy “After Hours.” Like Ernest, Paul is a man in over his head (Hackett can’t hack it). But he’s an otherwise normal and competent person having one crazy night in downtown Manhattan, not a murderer.Ernest is not an average Joe suffering a series of mishaps, like Hackett. Nor is he able to serve as a Henry Hill-esque narrator-navigator for the criminality of King Hale. He barely seems aware of what’s happening with his own small stake in the wider conspiracy, much less able to explain the entire thing to others. With even the mean success of a normal Scorsese criminal out of reach, Ernest is good for little more than relaying messages about murdering unarmed sick people — a task at which he fails as often as he succeeds — and occasionally chipping in by poisoning his own wife.Indeed, Ernest is too thick — intellectually, emotionally morally — to do much of anything but allow his hand to be forced, first by King, then by the federal agents tasked with taking him down. He never really learns, never really comes clean, never really grasps the monstrousness of what’s happening until it’s too late. He’s just not sharp enough to see it, or to allow himself to be shown. The man is a zero — the mental and moral void into which King Hale’s Osage targets and their allies disappear.The Scorsese movie we get out of him is very different as a result. A sharper character would have implied that it takes some canniness, cunning or charisma to plunder a land and its people. Instead, Ernest shows us that the bigotry and greed that fueled the genocidal campaign against the Osage are ultimately stupid, and the resulting tragedy all the sadder for it. More

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    From ‘Goodfellas’ to ‘Flower Moon’: How Scorsese Has Rethought Violence

    The director was long identified with ornately edited set pieces. In “The Irishman” and his latest film, the flourishes have given way to blunt truths.Of all the haunting images and disturbing sounds that permeate Martin Scorsese’s “Killers of the Flower Moon,” none is more upsetting than the guttural cry from Mollie Burkhart (Lily Gladstone), a tortured wail of rage and grief that escapes her reserved visage when tragedy strikes. And it often does: “Killers” tells the true story, adapted from the book by David Grann, of how Mollie’s Osage community was decimated by murderous white men, who killed dozens of her tribe members for rights to their oil-rich land.Mollie’s howl of pain is not quite like any sound heard before in a Scorsese film. But in many ways, Scorsese is emulating her jarring cry in the ominous aesthetics of “Killers of the Flower Moon” itself, and of his 2019 feature, “The Irishman.”The movies have much in common: their creative teams, expansive running times, period settings, narrative density and epic scope. But what most keenly sets them apart from the rest of Scorsese’s work is the element by which the filmmaker is arguably most easily identified: their violence. In these films, the deaths, which are frequent, are hard and fast and blunt, a marked departure from the intricately stylized and ornately edited set pieces of his earlier work.“The violence is different now, in these later movies,” Thelma Schoonmaker, his editor since 1980, noted recently. “And often it’s in a wide shot. It’s hardly ever a tight shot, which is very different from his earlier movies, right?”It certainly is. Wide shots, for those unfamiliar with the lingo of cinematography, are spacious, open compositions, often full-body views of characters and their surroundings (frequently used for broad-scale action or establishing shots). Medium-wides are slightly closer, but still allow us to observe multiple characters and their surroundings. The “tight shots” that Schoonmaker references as more typical of Scorsese’s earlier work are the medium shots, close-ups and extreme close-ups that place the camera (and thus the viewer) right in the middle of the melee.Take, as an example, one of Scorsese’s most effective sequences, the murder of Billy Batts (Frank Vincent) in his 1990 crime drama, “Goodfellas.” When Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci) and Jimmy Conway (Robert De Niro) kill Batts, it’s dramatized in a flurry of setups and rapid-fire edits: from a three-shot of Tommy’s initial punch, to an overhead shot of Batts hitting the floor, a low-angle composition (from Batts’s point of view) of Tommy pummeling him with his fists, then an already-dollying camera that tracks Henry (Ray Liotta) as he goes to lock the bar’s front door. Scorsese cuts back to Tommy landing more punches, then cuts to Jimmy contributing a series of kicks, with a quick insert of a particularly nasty one landing on Batts’s brutalized face. We then see, briefly, Tommy holding a gun, Henry reacting to all of this in shock, more kicks from Jimmy and more punches from Tommy, as blood spurts from Batts’s face.It’s a signature Scorsese scene, combining unflinching brutality, dark humor and incongruent music (the jukebox is blasting Donovan’s midtempo ballad “Atlantis”). It’s a tough, ugly bit of business — and it’s also pleasurable. There is, in this sequence and much of Scorsese’s crime filmography, a thrill to his staging and cutting that is often infectious.He’s such an electrifying filmmaker that even when dramatizing upsetting and difficult events, we find ourselves swept into the visceral virtuosity of his mise-en-scène. It’s this duality, the discomfort of enjoying the actions of criminals or killers or vigilantes, that makes his pictures so potent: Jake LaMotta’s beatings in “Raging Bull,” the high-speed execution of Johnny Boy in “Mean Streets” and particularly the gun-toting rampage of Travis Bickle at the end of “Taxi Driver” are all the more disturbing because of the spell Scorsese casts.That’s not how the violence works in “The Irishman” and “Killers of the Flower Moon.” When people die in these films, it’s grim, nasty, divergent in every way from the dirty kicks of “Goodfellas” or “Casino” (1995). In “The Irishman,” Sally Bugs (Louis Cancelmi) is dispatched in two setups, one wide and one medium, bang bang bang; the deaths of Whispers DiTullio (Paul Herman) and Crazy Joe Gallo (Sebastian Maniscalco) are likewise framed wide, hard and fast — simple, bloody, done. One of the film’s most upsetting scenes, when Frank (De Niro) drags his young daughter to the corner grocery store so she can watch him beat up a shopkeeper, is staged with similar simplicity: Scorsese keeps the scene to a single wide shot as Frank goes in, drags the man over his counter, smashes him through the door, kicks him, beats him and stomps on his hand. Scorsese cuts away only once — to the little girl’s horrified reaction.Scorsese carries this sparseness into “Killers of the Flower Moon.” An early montage of Osage people on their deathbeds concludes with the murder of Charlie Whitehorn (Anthony J. Harvey), who is killed in two cold, complementary medium-wides. Another character is hooded on the street, dragged into an alley and stabbed to death, with all of the action in two wide shots; a third is knocked down in one wide shot, then thrashed to death in a low-angle medium. The mayhem is over before it even starts.“When I was growing up, I was in situations where everything was fine — and then, suddenly, violence broke out,” Scorsese told the film critic Richard Schickel in 2011. “You didn’t get a sense of where it was coming from, what was going to happen. You just knew that the atmosphere was charged, and, bang, it happened.”That feeling — that “bang, it happened” — is what makes the violence in “Killers” so upsetting. The most jarring and scary death comes early, with the murder of Sara Butler (Jennifer Rader) as she attends to her baby in a carriage; it’s all done in one medium wide shot, a pop and a burst of blood. A late-film courtroom flashback to an inciting murder is even more gutting, because we know it’s coming, so as the characters walk into the wide shot and arrange themselves, it’s more tense than any of Scorsese’s breathless montages could ever be.In contrast to the constant needle drops of “Goodfellas” or “Casino,” the murders in “Killers” and “The Irishman” often occur without musical accompaniment, nothing to soften or smother the cold crack of a single gunshot. This is most haunting in the closing stretch of “The Irishman,” as Frank makes the long, sad trip to kill his friend Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino). It’s an order from on high, and Frank is merely a foot soldier, so he can’t do a thing about his pal’s fate but dwell. Scorsese makes us dwell with him, lingering on every detail, filling the soundtrack with the thick, heavy silence of surrender. And when the time comes, Scorsese stages one of the most famous unsolved murders of our time with a glum, doomed inevitability, as Frank stands behind Hoffa, puts two into him, drags him to the middle of the freshly laid carpet, and leaves.In these films, Scorsese has stripped his violence of its flourishes and curlicues, boiling it down to its essence. Of the comparatively restrained violence of his “Gangs of New York” (2002), Scorsese told Schickel, “I don’t really want to do it anymore — after doing the killing of Joe Pesci and his brother in ‘Casino,’ in the cornfield. If you look at it, it isn’t shot in any special way. It doesn’t have any choreography to it. It doesn’t have any style to it, it’s just flat. It’s not pretty. There was nothing more to do than to show what that way of life leads to.”Perhaps Scorsese was ready to dramatize violence as he remembered it, rather than how he’d seen it in the movies. Or perhaps, at age 80, he is acutely aware of his own mortality, and that awareness is affecting how he sees and presents death in his own work. Scorsese ends “The Irishman” with Frank literally picking out his own coffin and crypt; side characters are all introduced with onscreen text detailing their eventual deaths (“Frank Sindone — shot three times in an alley, 1980”). It’s coming for everyone, the director seems to insist, not in a razzle-dazzle set piece, but in a sudden moment of brutality, shrouded in a cold, endless silence. More

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    10 Movies That Capture the Essence of New York

    With the Tribeca Festival around the corner, it’s a fitting time to look back at the memorable ways cinema has given New York City a featured role.What makes for a strong New York movie? The standouts are often, like the city itself, unpredictable, a little shabby around the edges, sometimes exasperating but always compelling.The Tribeca Festival, which runs Wednesday to June 18, has loved this kind of work since its beginnings and has made it a point to celebrate the films set right in its backyard. This year will feature one such movie made by one of the festival’s founders.“A Bronx Tale” (1993), the directing debut of Robert De Niro, will close the festival with a 30th anniversary screening that Mr. De Niro and the movie’s writer and co-star Chazz Palminteri (a Bronx native) are scheduled to attend. The film shows a reverence for the neighborhood in which much of it takes place, and Mr. De Niro brings a knowing eye to the material.As the festival has prided itself on being a hometown one, it’s a fitting time to look back at the memorable ways cinema has given New York City a featured role. Below, in alphabetical order, are 10 noteworthy movies that have helped to capture the city’s warts and all.Griffin Dunne, left with Teri Garr, plays the office worker Paul Hackett in “After Hours.”Warner Bros.‘After Hours’ (1985)A kinetic example of the one-wild-night movie, this dark comedy from Martin Scorsese carries its lead on a tidal wave of late-night mishaps through SoHo. Griffin Dunne brings just the right level of measured pathos to the office worker Paul Hackett, whose overnight journey kicks off with a near-calamitous cab ride and goes downhill from there. Anyone who has stayed out late enough in New York to know how weird things can get should be able to relate.John Malkovich, left, and Catherine Keener in “Being John Malkovich.”Universal City Studios‘Being John Malkovich’ (1999)The narrative of this movie (written by Charlie Kaufman and directed by Spike Jonze), about a puppeteer who finds a portal into John Malkovich’s consciousness, is so original that it sometimes feels like it is inventing itself in front of your eyes. But in addition, the film does a great job of showcasing some of the city’s quirkier sides. The low ceiling of an office building’s seventh-and-a-half floor, which one can only get to using good elevator timing and a crowbar, is a great visual gag that, in its own way, mirrors the process of trying to find affordable housing in the city: trial but mostly error. The film throws in a New Jersey Turnpike joke for good measure.Spike Lee directed and starred in “Do the Right Thing.”Universal City Studios‘Do the Right Thing’ (1989)When it’s hot in the city, watch out. Spike Lee’s masterpiece uses a sweltering summer day to zero in on the boiling racial tensions between the residents of the Brooklyn neighborhood Bedford-Stuyvesant. But as bleak as it can be, it is also a love letter to the richness and brashness of personality this city holds. Its character ensemble includes the smooth-talking Mookie (Mr. Lee), the sly D.J.-chronicler Mister Señor Love Daddy (Samuel L. Jackson), the bold Radio Raheem (Bill Nunn), the disgruntled pizzeria owner Sal (Danny Aiello) and a host of others that keep the film’s energy building to a breaking point.Al Pacino’s character, Sonny, robs a Brooklyn bank in “Dog Day Afternoon.”Moviestore/Shutterstock‘Dog Day Afternoon’ (1975)Speaking of summer heat, a sweaty, off-the-deep-end Al Pacino generates plenty of his own in this nerve rattler from Sidney Lumet. Chaos finds its home in the character Sonny (Mr. Pacino), who robs a Brooklyn bank and sets the screen afire along the way. The actor has taken hits for giving too much in some of his performances over the years (“hoo-ah”). But here, more is just enough. The city can certainly be a place to find spectacle, and Mr. Pacino is working overtime to provide it.“In the Heights” is an adaptation of the Broadway musical.Macall Polay/Warner Bros. Entertainment, via Associated Press‘In the Heights’ (2021)From its songs to its winsome performances and overall sense of place, Jon M. Chu’s film adaptation of the Broadway musical by Lin-Manuel Miranda and Quiara Alegría Hudes is as alive as it is poignant. Using the neighborhood of Washington Heights as its canvas, the film paints a breathtaking city portrait through dynamically choreographed numbers and surreal flights of fancy. A Busby Berkeley-inspired scene at the city pool and a softer sequence that has two characters dancing right up the outer walls of an apartment building capture the wonder lurking around the city’s corners.Catherine Keener, right, in “Please Give,” Nicole Holofcener’s comedy of errors.Piotr Redlinski/Sony Pictures Classics‘Please Give’ (2010)There’s a darkly funny moment in Nicole Holofcener’s comedy of errors that I often think about: The lead character Kate (Catherine Keener) sees a Black man in a ski cap standing outside a nice restaurant. Sensing he must be homeless, she offers him her doggie bag. He tells her he’s waiting for a table. Ms. Holofcener is excellent at painting New York characters like this who think they’re doing the right thing but are often getting it wrong. That tension between compassion and entitlement propels this thoughtful feature.Carey Mulligan stars with Michael Fassbender in “Shame.”Abbot Genser/Fox Searchlight Pictures‘Shame’ (2011)As rewarding of a place as New York can be, it can also beat you down. That comes across most apparently in the British director Steve McQueen’s tale of a sex-obsessed city dweller (Michael Fassbender). The film’s Manhattan melancholy is embodied in a slow, sad yet depressingly magical rendition of “New York, New York” performed by Mr. Fassbender’s co-star, Carey Mulligan. Sometimes being a part of it helps when you can spend some time apart from it.Will Smith, second from right, in “Six Degrees of Separation.”RGR Collection/Alamy‘Six Degrees of Separation’ (1993)A double-sided Kandinsky and a multilayered performance from Stockard Channing fuel this bitter tale of New York elites on the Upper East Side who are transformed by Paul (Will Smith), a young man who claims to be both friends with their college-age children and the son of Sidney Poitier. It’s a sharp, satirical look at the ways that wealth and class can bruise relationships.Robert De Niro in “Taxi Driver,” directed by Martin Scorsese.Moviestore/Shutterstock‘Taxi Driver’ (1976)“All the animals come out at night,” a disgusted Travis Bickle (Mr. De Niro) says early in Mr. Scorsese’s film. What he sees as a bug is really a feature in this nightmare story by Paul Schrader that makes the city pulse with an irresistible vibrancy and vigor. Mr. De Niro is captivating as both our city guide and its conscience. And Bernard Herrmann’s score brings a majestic method to all of the madness.“Wild Style” was directed by Charlie Ahearn.via Music Box Films‘Wild Style’ (1983)Featuring Lee Quiñones (and having a retrospective screening during the festival), this film from Charlie Ahearn captures the pulsating soul of early 1980s New York, with lovingly graffiti-plastered subway cars and joyful hip-hop beats. The party that closes out the film is just about guaranteed to get you moving. More

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    Robert De Niro’s Career in Five Artifacts

    The actor recently donated hundreds of boxes of scripts, props, notes and other objects from his work on “Raging Bull,” “Taxi Driver” and more. We dived in.AUSTIN, Texas — When Robert De Niro heard that Marlon Brando’s personal, annotated “Godfather” script was for sale on eBay, he was not too happy. How could such an important cultural artifact, created by an acting icon, a true artist, be as easy to bid on as an old pinball machine, or a Las Vegas coffee mug?This was around 2006, and De Niro had been looking for a place to donate the extensive collection of props, costumes, scripts, letters and mementos he had accumulated throughout his six-decade career. He did not want his “Taxi Driver” script notes to wind up deteriorating in a stranger’s closet in Des Moines, so he sought out a place where the archivists and staff would care for and preserve each piece, including the red boxing gloves and leopard-print robe he wore as Jake LaMotta in “Raging Bull” and the pages of letters he and his “Last Tycoon” director Elia Kazan wrote each other. “I wanted to keep it for my kids and I wanted to keep it all together,” De Niro told me just after he viewed an exhibition at the Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas in Austin showcasing part of his archives. He was in town last month for the show, and for a gala celebrating the Ransom Center’s 65th anniversary. Leonard Maltin served as the master of ceremonies, and Meryl Streep hopped over to Texas to honor her longtime friend and colleague with a speech.“I don’t know, if you’re spelunking around in there, if you’re going to be able to find the secret of his power and what he does,” Streep said in her speech. “His strength comes from what he doesn’t say.”Texas might seem like an odd home for De Niro’s two Academy Awards and personal photos, but he wanted an institution that would provide easy access to students, researchers and cinephiles from around the world. As he said in his own speech that night: “I had accumulated an appalling amount of stuff. It was going to be either the Ransom Center or an episode of ‘Hoarders.’”The center houses the papers of the acting teacher Stella Adler, Samuel Beckett, T.S. Eliot, Tom Stoppard, Tennessee Williams and Frida Kahlo, to name a few. In his speech, De Niro said he chose the center because of the company his archive would be in. “I imagine my papers talking to their papers, or trying to anyway, and their papers asking my papers, ‘What the hell are you doing here?’”The “Robert De Niro Papers” show runs through January and features a portion of the 537 boxes, 601 bound volumes and 147 folders of items De Niro donated. Here are a few treasures on display, with insights from De Niro and the curator of film, Steve Wilson.Early Headshot and Résumévia Harry Ransom Centervia Harry Ransom CenterThe black-and-white photo of a very clean-cut-looking young De Niro is accompanied by one of his early acting résumés, back when his film roles had names like Friend of Lead. De Niro said he remembered typing those résumés, and when I asked him if he maybe, possibly exaggerated anything, he said, “I think I may have. Maybe I said I was in a play or had a role in a play, and I’d just done a scene.” Wilson said the résumés helped the archivists date some of the items from early in his career, like his old makeup kit, which holds used brushes, tubes and cosmetic sticks that helped De Niro get into character during his early years as a student, before he went to work onstage and in dinner theater. “The existence of these résumés was really interesting to me,” Wilson said. “It does look like he was probably padding résumés. For example, he might say he was in a touring play, but we know he performed a scene at Stella Adler or something.”Fedora From ‘Mean Streets’via Harry Ransom CenterWarner Bros.The hat, and the role, marked the start of one of cinema’s most enduring and powerful collaborations, between De Niro and the director Martin Scorsese. When the actor wore this brown fedora to read for the role of Johnny Boy, the neighborhood punk, Scorsese knew De Niro was his guy, he told New York magazine a few years later. In Vincent Canby’s 1973 review of the film for The Times, he wrote, “The look, language and performances are so accurate, so unselfconscious, so directly evocative.” De Niro’s performance (opposite Harvey Keitel, above left, and David Proval) and that now iconic hat helped create the visceral realism that still manages to feel in-your-face and raw, almost five decades later. “I wore that hat as a kid,” De Niro told me when I asked where it came from. “I just liked it.” When it came time to audition for Johnny Boy, he said, he felt that it fit the character. “He had been keeping wardrobe items that he would use for auditions, like hats and glasses, for a long time,” Wilson said. “It was kind of an arsenal.”License From ‘Taxi Driver’via Harry Ransom CenterTo prepare for his 1976 role as Travis Bickle, a haunted, lonely Vietnam veteran turned New York cabby, De Niro spent a little over a week actually driving a taxi. This was just after he had won an Academy Award for “The Godfather Part II,” and one passenger recognized him and commented that things must be especially tough for actors if an Oscar winner was trying to earn money driving a cab. The license is another piece of the collection that illuminates his dedication to character and the lengths he goes to fully inhabit another life.The exhibition also includes one of De Niro’s annotated “Taxi Driver” scripts, opened to a page where Bickle stares into the mirror. The action simply reads: “His eyes are glazed with introspection. He sees nothing but himself.” Just below that, in blue ink, De Niro wrote, “Mirror thing here?” That “mirror thing,” of course, became “You talking to me?” It’s an improvised moment that has become a hallmark of his career. College-age kids still yell that line to De Niro sometimes when he’s out in public. As for the license, as soon as Wilson saw it for the first time, he “knew immediately that it was the image of the archive. It speaks to his process and says it all. It’s a great piece.”Military Dog Tags From ‘The Deer Hunter’via Harry Ransom Center“I can’t remember if I wore those through the whole production; it was a long time ago,” De Niro said of the ID his character, Mike, wore in Michael Cimino’s 1978 film about a group of friends from a Pennsylvania steel town whose lives are forever scarred by their experiences in Vietnam. Besides the dog tags, the archive displays De Niro’s prep work, including medical records from actual Vietnam veterans, articles about “returning vet syndrome” (now known as PTSD), and detailed notes he took on the dialect of the specific area of Pennsylvania his character hailed from. (Sample: “these ones” and “those ones” can be used interchangeably.)“I think this is where the archive really starts,” Wilson said. “There is a giant uptick in the amount of research material that we have for any particular film once we get to ‘Deer Hunter’ and beyond. Sometime around 1979 or 1980 is when he really got serious about keeping things.” When the dog tags arrived, Wilson noticed they were covered in plastic, as they would have been in real life to keep the metal from making noise and alerting the enemy. By the time the dog tags reached Austin, the plastic was yellowed and leaching liquid, so the archivists removed the decaying material and had them encased again, to stay true to the object’s original form.‘Raging Bull’ Annotated Scriptvia Harry Ransom CenterLike most of the screenplays in the collection, De Niro’s “Raging Bull” draft, dated “2-1-79” and revised by “M.S. and R.D.N.” (the director and actor), is covered in handwritten notes. The hefty version is enclosed in a brown leather folder. Wilson said several of the scripts “seemed to have a personality of their own,” and that there were notes in the pockets of the folder, including one to De Niro from Vikki LaMotta, the real-life wife of De Niro’s character.The script is displayed in a glass case next to the writer Paul Schrader’s handwritten scene outline, scribbled on a yellow legal pad. Several writers were credited in the film, but De Niro and Scorsese went away for a few days together to work on a final draft before production began. De Niro said they headed to the Caribbean because “it just seemed like a nice place to go. We worked on the script and on getting it to a good place. We worked on the character.”The notes across the script pages are tough to decipher. When De Niro stepped away for a moment, I overheard his young daughter telling Wilson that her father had horrible handwriting, so bad that she didn’t even think he used the same alphabet as everyone else. That hard-to-decipher handwriting will probably not stop film lovers and researchers from traveling to the Ransom Center in their quest to decode De Niro’s career, his technique and the mystery of his process, one script note, costume choice and scribbled-on napkin at a time. More