Who's That Knocking At My Door

Directed by Martin Scorsese
(1968)

Along with writer/director John Cassavetes, Martin Scorsese's body of work ultimately revolutionized American cinema, presenting flawed characters in complicated dilemmas of relevance to the times - moving away from the more whimsical theatrics of the preceding Hollywood melodramas. Which is why, as pretty as it is to look at, Who's That Knocking At My Door stands out for its conceptual brilliance.

The main conflict the film explores is the apparent futility of a religious and/or romantic morality in the midst of ever-changing modernity. The main character J.R., played by Harvey Keitel, is our romantic. He's a Western enthusiast (claiming everyone should love the genre) of a Catholic who constantly slums it with his friends around the streets of New York. Within this circle of friends there is a brotherhood - a familial arrangement. While egos are challenged, words exchanged and dramatic exits made, most any misunderstanding can be cleared with a drink and a movie. Though there clearly is a pecking order (not as defined as in Goodfellas) to this motley crew, one which is made evident in a scene of inebriation where one friend taunts another with a handgun. J.R. and others' reaction to the scene is like that of associates in juvenile mischief, backing away with cowering laughter. The gun turns out to be loaded and is fired, though not at the bullied, but at bottles of alcohol scattered about.

There is an insanity to the lighthearted nature in which violence is depicted in this scene; an unreal ignorance in the fact that no one else intervened. This is modernity redefining social relationships. The presence of an excessive force changes the dynamic of a communal setting, where power can more easily be usurped. The force itself can be characterized as romantic by the westerns J.R. and company watch; good overtaking bad with all guns blazing. But when the simple narrative structure of a John Wayne movie is removed, violence becomes more difficult to enact justly in the static chaos of everyday interpersonal communications. And while this may come off like a whole lot of steam to be blowing about a scene which doesn't actually contain any mass violence, the depicted event and unobservant naivete are, at the very least, perturbing.

When away from his guy friends, issues stemming from J.R.'s religious morality arise. On the Catholic doctrine, J.R. doesn't appear to have that great of knowledge of the rituals required of him - outside of what not to do. This problem is illustrated subtlety in a scene where his "girlfriend" (unnamed, played by Zina Bethune) uses a ceremonial candle (those ones with the Virgin Mary on them) for a practical room lighting. J.R. corrects her, saying that the candle is special and can't be used for that purpose. She accepts his answer, but not before pausing briefly in a manner expectant of further explanation upon the candle's proper use. This is an explanation that J.R. never gives, and it illuminates a lack of understanding in what he practices, as he merely goes through the motions of avoiding missteps in ritual protocol.

The rift between traditional morality and modernity becomes greater as J.R.'s intimate relationship with his girlfriend grows. In a conversation with her, J.R. explains the difference between a woman and a broad: a woman being the type to marry and a broad...at this point, an excessive sexual fantasy begins, showing J.R. give it to what are basically whores. This gross contradiction comes to a forefront when J.R. finds out his girlfriend is not a virgin, as she has been raped. J.R. cannot process this fact. His traditional religious morality will not account for an anomaly. It does not account for gray areas; a woman is either pure or impure. So it comes as no surprise that he becomes angry when he hears of her "impure" state, calling her a liar, stating that rape is just a phony alibi to cover up her being a slut. Eventually J.R. reaches a sort of resolution on the matter, apologizing. Of course the apology is loaded, complete with his forgiveness. (She refuses.) He cannot grasp the notion of circumstance. Instead, everything comes back to sin, which implies a willful violation.

In the closing scenes, the futility of J.R.'s morality receives full cinematic expression. While praying in church, surrounded by religious iconography, he asks forgiveness for the event that has just transpired. As J.R. prays, the viewer is assaulted with an array of tight close-ups of a statue of Christ, revealing the various wounds on his body from crucifixion. Underscoring the scene is a catchy radio hit of the time, trivializing the apparent sincerity on screen; even the presence of these prominent symbols, J.R. has no idea of what he ask forgiveness for - other than that he feels he needs to ask it. The inconclusiveness of repentance solidifies as the film ends with J.R. standing outside of the church, making plans for the following day with one of his buddies.

Throughout this exposition I've frequently used the word "modernity" in association with some of the issues in the film. But because things like violence and rape have existed since the dawn of humanity, I think the word "reality" can be substituted with more accuracy. Reality is what crushes the faulty ideals of J.R., throwing him into an endless circuit of sin/guilt/repent. Who's That Knocking At My Door suggests a reevaluation of morality to attempt combat this self-defeating cycle and move towards a more coherent existence.

(Did I mention this was Scorsese's first film? It's hard to tell. For the most part, shit looks tip top.)