Today, we begin with Scorsese's feature film debut. Though he already had a few low-budget shorts under his belt, this would be Martin Scorsese's big debut to world cinema. Even though it has all the makings of a first feature, it also packs enough of Scorsese's trademarks to still make what could be an unbearable film in the wrong hands into a fascinating piece to watch.
Martin Scorsese really loves New York City. It is just as much a character as his conflicted protagonists and the violent lives they lead. No one shoots the streets of New York like Scorsese does, and that is already evident in Who's That Knocking At My Door.
The film began its life as a short film shot in 1965 called Bring On The Dancing Girls. Starring up and coming actor Harvey Keitel in his first film role, the story was set to follow a street thug named JR getting into a bunch of debauchery with his friends before he begins to question his lifestyle. Believing that a central element to the story was missing, Scorsese years later brought Keitel back and filmed new scenes featuring television actress Zina Bethune as JR's love interest who sends JR into his guilt trips. The film, now retitled I Call First and running over 80 minutes, was debuted at the Chicago International Film Festival. There, it caught the eye of one Roger Ebert who immediately sung its praises and believed it to be a turning point in American cinema.
The film also caught the eye of a distributor, Joseph Brenner, who agreed to sell the film nationwide on the condition that Scorsese add a steamy sex scene so that it could be sold as a sexploitation picture. Scorsese agreed, and brought back Keitel one more time to film what Brenner requested while the two were staying in Amsterdam. The final film was renamed to Who's That Knocking At My Door where it once again drew critical acclaim but not much in the way of box office numbers.
What drew so much attention to this indie film out of all the rest was Scorsese's attention to authenticity. By shooting in the real streets of New York without the usual glamor that Hollywood shined on it, the film gains its own special atmosphere. Much of the film's exteriors are lit naturally with just street lamps and headlights (likely because that's all this $75,000 production could afford). The film mixes together primitive looking 16mm film and pristine 35mm film that allows the film to exist as both a messy and a beautiful movie.
That all being said, the film does have obvious flaws indicative of an inexperienced filmmaker. The storyline, or what story there is, often meanders and gets caught up in story threads that don't lead anywhere. A few sequences just don't seem to know when to end, as if the film is padding out its length to justify a feature film length. In all honesty, this could have been 45-50 minutes tops. The film also has trouble communicating what it's trying to say. During the scene where JR and his girlfriend and making out and preparing to have sex, I completely missed the meaning of the scene. Judging from JR's behavior and the dialogue he was having, I interpreted it as JR being impotent. It took reading a plot synopsis to realize that JR didn't want to have sex because he didn't want to take his girlfriend's virginity before marriage.
Despite the muddled narrative and not always successful forays into experimental filmmaking, Who's That Knocking At My Door is still rife with Scorsese's trademarks. The film's soundtrack is punctuated by contemporary rock music, including the first prolonged use of The Doors' "The End" years before the song was immortalized by Apocalypse Now.
Of course, there's the life of violence that Scorsese's characters are often in; the film begins with a tranquil opening scene of a Catholic mother (played by Martin's own mother, Catherine) baking meat pies for her children before it is juxtaposed with a scene of JR and his friends getting into street brawls. His characters speak like street-wise New Yorkers you see in the rest of his films; there's lots of profanity and his characters often ramble and repeat themselves or shout over each other.
There's one brilliant sequence where we watch one of JR's parties in a series of beautiful slow-motion tracking shots with only Ray Barretto's "El Watusi" playing in the background (again, years before it was more famously used in Carlito's Way). The party is rowdy, but everything takes a turn when a very drunk party-goer pulls out a gun filled with live ammo. He headlocks Gaga, one of JR's closer friends, and proceeds to threaten him for what feels like an eternity. As Gaga cries out in fear, the rest of the party books it while laughing, thinking it's all one big joke. The scene finally explodes when the drunk man fires the gun at a bunch of beer bottles.
This sequence is the first real showcase of Scorsese's masterful grasp of suspense. The tension builds naturally, juxtaposed with Barretto's playful dance song playing out in its entirety. The only person not in on the joke is Gaga, and a real sense of dread emerges that this scene could end tragically. The fact that it doesn't still leaves a feeling of unease; JR's life is a dangerous one that could end in unexpected death.
But like in all his other films following lives of crime, Scorsese toes a fine line between condemning and glorifying his characters. One can't help but get caught up in the excitement of the street brawls, the orgies, and the nightly drinking. Sure, JR loses his one chance of true love and seeks forgiveness yet doesn't seem to get it. But the movie abruptly ends after JR's prolonged visit to church with JR heading home. His life will just be back to normal tomorrow. Judging from the way he was talking to his girlfriend during their break-up, calling her a whore and forgiving her for her being raped, I somehow doubt that he will miss her too much.
There's also something deeply hypocritical about JR as a character that makes him entirely unsympathetic. Despite his anger that his girlfriend is not a virgin, we see JR engage in sexual acts of his own. There's the aforementioned orgy that JR attends after discovering that his girlfriend was raped by a previous boyfriend. He's drunk, but he is more than ready to sleep with one of the women Gaga brought over. He calls first after Gaga (giving the original title double meaning; both from this line of dialogue and JR's desire to claim his girlfriend's virginity) and then, after losing a game of rock-paper-scissors, proceeds to barge in on Gaga anyways, threatening to rape the woman.
There's also the lengthy sexual fantasy I mentioned earlier. While JR and his girlfriend are talking about the difference between "girls" and "broads", JR dives into a deep fantasy where he beds a series of extremely attractive prostitutes. While I'm not condemning JR having fantasies, it is hard to say if he hasn't already slept with prostitutes. There's an earlier scene where JR and his friend get into an argument about his friend looking for a prostitute because no one else would sleep with him. The argument feels like it's drawing from past experience, so there is no way JR is a virgin himself.
This double standard is likely the point, and brings us to JR's confession and praying at the church for forgiveness. Like many of Scorsese's future characters, they try to use their faith as an excuse to claim they are good men. JR is protective of his mother's statuette of the Virgin Mary while he and his girlfriend are making out. It's the classic example of hiding behind one's faith while these men do deeply evil things (see The Godfather trilogy for the ultimate example). But it's hard to buy into JR's conflict because he is such an asshole.
He has natural charm and loves movies to death, and he does seem to be open to changing his habits for a woman he loves. He appreciates long hikes unlike his other friends, and he's devoted to his family (which is only hinted at occasionally in the film). But his mind is deeply rooted in toxic masculinity. He views women as sexual objects, and his natural reaction to learning about his girlfriend's traumatic experience is a mix of confusion and anger, not sympathy or remorse or love. All because he didn't call her first.
(If you can't tell, I think I Call First is a way better title than the final one if only because the former actually has a bearing on the film's story and its deeper meaning.)
I've always had an issue sympathizing with Scorsese's leads. They're often deeply misogynistic and turn violent at a pin drop. Yet Scorsese wants to paint these men as troubled and conflicted. However, I've never bought into it. What captivates me about Scorsese's films are his techniques and supporting characters usually, though there are exceptions where I will actively root for the lead. But we'll get into that later.
As a debut feature, Who's That Knocking At My Door is solid. It's polished far more than your typical debut and seeing early forms of Scorsese's trademarks (banging soundtracks, conflicted violent characters, gorgeous tracking shots) was a pleasant surprise. Keitel's performance is strong for a major acting debut; his natural charm shines through when he's flirting with his girlfriend. However, JR spends a lot of the film's runtime just staring at things and ruminating. Thankfully, Scorsese would put him to better use in later films.
So while Who's That Knocking At My Door would be a hint of things to come, it would be years before Scorsese would find himself behind a camera making a feature again. After Who's That Knocking At My Door completed its theatrical run in late 1968, Scorsese began to become close with many of the faces of New Hollywood. He also worked as an assistant director and editor along with Schoonmaker on the widely successful Woodstock documentary. His work and connections drew the attention of legendary producer Roger Corman.
After signing a deal with American International Pictures, Scorsese began work on his second feature and our subject of the next chapter:
Boxcar Bertha
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