Taxi Driver (1976) explores how extreme isolation and untreated psychological trauma can transform a mentally unstable individual into a vigilante hero, demonstrating that society often celebrates violence when it comes dressed in a hero's uniform, and that the monster we fear may actually be a reflection of ourselves.
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Hollywood’s Most Twisted VigilanteAdded:
The patient arrived in a taxi driving through the neon soaked sewer that was New York City in the summer of 1975.
With a mohawk carved into his skull and a diary full of aphorisms that were really confessions, his name is Travis Bickle.
He is a 26-year-old Marine veteran who cannot sleep, so he drives a cab 12 hours a night, 7 days a week, and watches the filth of the city roll past his window like a wound that will not close.
He is the most terrifying protagonist in American cinema because he is not a monster. He is a mirror. He is every lonely man who has ever stared into his own reflection and asked, "Who the [ __ ] do you think you're talking to?"
>> [music] >> I am the film pathologist. Today, we are performing a postmortem on a patient named Taxi Driver.
Released 1976, directed by Martin Scorsese.
Written by Paul Schrader, a man who was living out of his car and sleeping on a borrowed couch when he wrote the script in five feverish days.
Budget, $1.9 million.
Box office, 28.6 million.
Four Academy Award nominations.
And a controversy so deep that it was booed at its own premiere and later cited as the inspiration for an attempted assassination.
The patient did not die. It metastasized. Let me put on my gloves.
First incision, the diary.
The film opens on a cloud of steam rising from a manhole cover. The streets of Manhattan slick with rain and something darker.
Travis narrates from his diary. He says, "All the animals come out at night.
[ __ ] skunk [ __ ] buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies. Sick, venal."
>> All the animals come out at night.
[ __ ] skunk [ __ ] buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies.
Amen. Sick, venal.
>> He is not wrong. The city is rotting.
But the rot is not outside. The rot is inside him. He visits a porn theater on his breaks. He watches the same loops of depravity until the images bleed into his dreams.
He is a man who has been trained to kill and then return to a society that has no use for him.
He is a weapon without a war.
That is the first incision. The patient is bleeding from the diary.
>> [music] >> Second incision, the campaign worker.
Travis sees a woman named Betsy. She is blonde. She wears [music] white. She works for a presidential candidate named Palantine, a man running on a platform of cleaning up the streets.
Travis is infatuated. He walks into her office.
He asks her for coffee. She agrees.
>> I have a break at 4:00 and if you're here >> 4:00 today?
>> Yeah.
>> I'll be here.
>> I'm sure you will.
>> They have a second date. He takes her to a porn theater. She walks out. She never speaks to him again.
Travis does not understand what he did wrong. He calls her. He writes her letters. He stalks her office. He is not a predator.
He is a man who has never learned the difference between attraction and obsession because no one ever taught him.
Betsy's rejection is not a rejection.
>> [music] >> It is a diagnosis. The patient is not capable of love. He is only capable of projection. That is the second incision.
The patient is hemorrhaging.
Third incision, the child.
One night Travis picks up a fare. A young girl runs toward his cab chased by a man who drags her back into a building. The girl is 12. Her name is Iris. She is a prostitute. Her pimp is a man named Sport [music] played by Harvey Keitel with a smile that is pure poison.
Travis cannot stop thinking about Iris.
He becomes obsessed with saving her. He visits her. He buys her breakfast. He tells [music] her she can leave. She says, "I don't want to leave. I'm in love with Sport."
>> [music] >> Travis does not hear her. He hears only his own fantasy.
He has decided that Iris is his mission.
He has decided that killing Sport will cleanse the streets.
He has decided that violence is the only language he speaks fluently. That is the third incision. The patient is flatlining. [music] Final incision, the bloodbath.
Travis shaves his head into a mohawk.
He buys four handguns from a black market dealer named Easy Andy.
He builds a spring-loaded holster into his sleeve. He practices quick draw in front of his mirror. He says, [music] "You talking to me? You talking to me?
You talking to me? Then who the hell else are you talking to? You talking to me?
Well, I'm the only one here."
>> You talking to me?
Then who the hell else are you talking to? You talking to me?
>> The line was not in the script. Paul Schrader wrote only, "Travis [music] speaks to himself in the mirror."
Robert De Niro improvised the rest.
Martin Scorsese lay on the floor beneath him, watching through the camera, too afraid to say cut.
That is the second layer of the autopsy.
The actor became the patient.
De Niro lost 30 lb. He drove a real taxi for 12 hours a night. He studied the diary entries of Arthur Bremer, the man who shot George Wallace.
He became Travis so completely that when the camera stopped rolling, he could not find [music] himself again.
The final scene. Travis attempts to assassinate [music] Palantine at a rally, but is spotted by Secret Service agents. He flees. That night, he drives to the brothel where Iris works. He enters the building. He shoots Sport. He shoots a mafioso client. He is shot several times. He stabs a bouncer through the hand with a knife. He shoots him in the head. He runs out of bullets.
He tries to shoot himself.
The chamber's empty. He slumps on a couch, his finger to his head making a gun with his hand.
The cops arrive. He wakes up in a coma.
He wakes up a hero. The newspapers call him a vigilante. Iris's parents send a thank you letter. He returns to driving his cab.
Betsy gets in. She says she read about him in the papers. He declines her money. He drives off. He looks in his rearview mirror. He flinches. The camera holds. He smiles.
He drives into the night. That flinch is the whole film.
That moment when Travis sees something in the mirror that makes him flinch, then smile, then drive away.
Martin Scorsese has said the ending is not a fantasy. It is not a dream. It is an irony, a critique, a warning. [music] The media turns a mass shooter into a folk hero because he killed the right people.
The public celebrates a man who was one bad day away from assassinating a presidential candidate.
Travis Bickle does not change. He does not learn. He does not heal. He drives.
He watches. He waits.
And the flinch in the mirror is the sound of the patient realizing that the monster is still there. That the monster never left. That the monster is the only one who ever answers when he asks, "Who the [ __ ] are you talking to?"
The taxi is still driving. It has been driving for 49 years. The streets have changed. The neon has dimmed. But Travis is still behind the wheel, still watching, still waiting for the rain to wash the blood off his windshield. He will never stop driving because stopping means looking in the mirror. And looking in the mirror means seeing the face of a man who killed three people and was called a hero. That face is not Travis's face. That face is ours.
>> [music] >> The film does not judge him. It judges us. It asks, "Why do we celebrate violence when it comes dressed in a hero's uniform?
Why do we call a murderer a savior? Why do Do look at Travis Bickle and see a hero instead of a warning? Go find Taxi Driver. It is streaming on every platform that has ever hosted a masterpiece. Watch it at night. Watch it alone.
And when Travis looks in the rearview mirror and flinches, ask yourself what he saw. The answer is not in the film.
The answer is in the reflection of your own screen. The patient is not dead. The patient is still driving.
And somewhere in a rusted ambulance on the night shift, a paramedic named Frank Pierce is picking up a fare who looks exactly like Travis.
But that is an autopsy for another night. A different film, a different wound.
Until then, the mirror is waiting and the mirror is always talking to you.
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