At first sight, Martin Scorsese and Woody Allen have little in common other than being two great New York filmmakers. Beyond that, there seems to be little else in common. Their genres, styles, and films are almost opposed.
However, two films seem to connect them philosophically: Mean Streets (1973) and Hannah and Her Sisters (1986). Both protagonists, Charlie in Mean Streets and Mickey in Hannah, are textbook existentialists, though there are as many approaches to existentialism as there are people; these two exemplify polar-opposite existential crises, united by a shared search for the self.
The very first scene in Mean Streets has Scorsese’s voice in off, saying: “You don’t make up for your sins in church, you do it in the streets.” The scene then opens with Charlie Cappa (Harvey Keitel) waking up as light filters through the blinds, making him seem as if he is behind bars. He gets up and walks by a very well-lit crucifix to a mirror where he touches his face. Here are the basic clues we need to understand Charlie’s situation: He feels trapped, the weight of morality, of guilt, of the church on his shoulders, and the touching gives a very “doubting Thomas” feeling: I will believe it when I touch it. Throughout the film, Charlie will test the pain a flame causes whenever he sees one (candles, kitchen stoves), a motif shared by Lawrence of Arabia. Charlie struggles to decide between the mafia lifestyle of his capo uncle and a more honest life with his girlfriend in the style of his hero, St. Francis of Assisi, protecting the less fortunate, in this case, Robert De Niro’s Johnny Boy.
Woody Allen’s Mickey, on the other hand, has a very different kind of existential crisis as he looks for the meaning of life. Although Allen always seems to play the same neurotic New Yorker, in Hannah, he channels the existential issues of love and life in Manhattan.
In conclusion, Scorsese in Mean Streets and Allen in Hannah and Her Sisters, respectively, portray the two sides of the same existentialist coin: Scorsese in the tragic frame of Soren Kierkegaard, and Allen’s Hanna in the absurdist style of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot.
“You know, I’ll dye Easter eggs if it works.”



















































































