Martin Scorsese is undoubtedly one of my all time favorite directors. He has a consistently great string of movies that span his entire career and Who's That Knocking at My Door is the very first one of them all. The movie itself is very good, but looking at it in relation to the career and development of Scorsese's aesthetically unique style of directing makes it even better. When you break it down it is sort of a movie about nothing, and it focuses more on aesthetics and visual nuances to give it a very unique feel that fits right in with Scorsese's body of work. But if you have to assign a storyline to the film it is about J.R., an Italian American living in New York, who meets a girl and falls in love with her. They have their ups and downs and the movie essentially just follows J.R. through his life as a city slicker, hanging out with his foul mouthed buddies at bars and trying to balance that with his love life. The story more or less takes a back seat to the unique visual exploration that is way ahead of its time.

If you're familiar with Scorsese, then this film would be what you would expect from his directorial debut. It is very raw, unpolished, and experimental. Thankfully, a lot of what Scorsese plays with in this film would actually carry through to his later films that were obviously much bigger successes. This film is essentially a gigantic lens into what would later develop into Scorsese's very specific style of directing. It mixes up a little bit of everything and almost feels like a rough mixing of all of Scorsese's unique visual elements that he has trademarked since then. Who's Knocking at My Door employs all kinds of techniques that we've grown to love from Scorsese. It deals out some long static shots, long tracking shots, and its fair share of strangely quick cuts. The dialouge has a very unpolished Scorsese-esquire cadence to it. It can't even compare to some of the dialouge of his later films, but you can definitely see the early formations of Scorsese's vulgar and quick paced dialouge.

You also have to give a lot of credit to Scorsese and the people who signed on to help him produce this film because of just how experimental the film was for a directorial debut. The film is far ahead of its time in content and style, and for Scorsese to take this risk with his very first film is something that is very respectable in any filmmaker. He didn't try to do anything on a large and flashy scale. Instead he creates a very small scale story with small scale characters and he does a surprising lot artistically with the little he has to work with. And it's also incredible that, to me at least, it works. Trying something so bizarre and different from conventional filmmaking styles of the time could easily crash and burn. But Scorsese pulls it off with his first film and makes something that is actually watchable.

Who's Knocking at My Door is a really good movie by itself, but it becomes so much more interesting when you put it in the context of Scorsese's body of work. When you do this, the film becomes a fascinating study of the beginnings of Scorsese, and for that I absolutely loved it. Being such a small scale movie without a lot of purely escapist entertainment value it's hard to recommend this film to just anybody, but if you are a Scorsese fan then it is a must see.

"Who's That Knocking at My Door" is Martin Scorsese's first feature, and what looks and feels like an exercise in style, so typical of students' works gradually turns into an impressive work with a powerful intensity and very promising sensitivity, something I found lacking in Godard's acclaimed 'New Wave' opener "Breathless". (Godard never made me care about his characters, and for me, always personified the 'all flash and no substance' director' syndrome.)

In "Who's That Knocking", the substance is here and carries the very essence of what would define the best of Scorsese's body of work. The film is not perfect of course, it has some technical flaws on the editing and narrative structure, but there is a heart beating inside, a sense of nervousness perfectly conveyed by a tormented 25-year old student and magnificently embodied by a young Harvey Keitel, as J.R., a New York Italian-American. This nervousness is very palpable in the editing, during some introspective close-ups where you could almost read in the mind of J.R., torn apart between his religious beliefs, his street-wise friends, his passion for John Wayne and Western movies, and his love for the Girl, played by Zina Bethume. Marty doesn't intend to make his film a sort of existential cry, but by depicting a realistic slice of Italian-American male youth's life, it's a part of himself that he reveals through the character of J.R. And Harvey Keitel, instead of taking his first acting job for granted, and sort of act according to a script, transcends his character and provide him a sort of boyish hidden innocence.

That's the conflict that invades the soul of J.R., he is a kid who tries to act like a man, and unaware that there is a profound immaturity that undermines his transition to the adult age. When he meets the Girl in the ferry, it's interesting that their first discussion deals with John Wayne. J.R. and his friends idolize John Wayne and all the masculine archetypes of the Western genre: Monty Clift, outlaws, antiheroes etc. This fandom echoes Belmondo's character in "Breathless" who was a fan of Humphrey Bogart. Being a fan is essential to understand the roots of youth's behavior, and as a 30-year old guy, I remember myself talking about Michael Corleone from "The Godfather" with the same passion as J.R., when I was his age. We all need models, and it seems that anti-heroic figures are the most likely to ignite the passion in youth's hearts, as a way to reconcile them with their status in life. They feel like men, just because they bring a gun or girls in the house. It's all about accessories, never behavior, all about imitation, never action.

J.R., as the hero, is more detached from his friends, more likely to 'get off the car'. His interaction with the Girl is very sweet and could lead to a beautiful romance, until she reveals that she was raped before. J.R. 's doesn't believe her, victim of the cruel dichotomy that put girls either in the 'nice' or 'broads' category, something that, as a Mediterranean, I could relate to. The Girl leaves J.R. with dignity, the rest is left unsaid, but thanks to Scorsese's intimate directing, we understand everything that goes in J.R.'s mind. The episode with the girls who come at the house plays a pivotal role in his psychological journey, with the famous "I Call First" moment (which gave its second title to the film). I could relate to this childish reaction, because it's so typical of young male behavior, mixing game (then childhood, immaturity) to adult situations (kissing girls). J.R. refuses to play any selection game because he knows he's going to lose, which happens, and then in the most childish way, sabotages the whole party. This scene is shocking and real to its core, like when J.R.'s buddy reacts violently toward the girl when he see his neck bleeding.

The incident with the girl highlights the fact that he rape might have happened and that the Girl is not a broad. After knocking at her door, she opens, she's visibly glad to see him, so is he. They kiss, they're tender and sweet, he asked her for marriage, and says he forgives her. The rest of the scene reveals that the road is still long for J.R to grow some maturity, and he still handles what could be a beautiful relationship with the same immaturity that made him say "I Call First" and the violence that inspire such words as 'whore'. But this violence hides deeper insecurities, these guys are lost, and need models only to forget their own mediocrity, incapable to get over their devotion to the Mother's sacred figure. Their Oedipal condition prevents them to be real men by 'killing the father'. J.R. needs these models too, God, the Virgin Mary, a mother, therefore a wife. He needs to marry the Girl not because he's a man who wants to be a man, but a son who needs a maternal figure. The scene where he can't have sex with the Girl while he's more relaxed with 'broads' (a scene far from being gratuitous) shows that there is a thin line between marriage and sexuality in his mind.

Like his buddies, J.R. can't admit that he's castrated by his own background and can only become a man by rejecting a deep part of his macho culture, by stopping to idolize their mothers so much that they would vent their anger on girls, for not being like their mothers. That's the irony of J.R. condition and Marty's dilemma that would inspire a never-ending feeling of guilt. Or maybe the quest for redemption just started? After all, J.R. could as well be a younger Charlie from "Mean Streets". "Who's That Knocking at My Door?", made after 4 years of struggle, is the birth of a new talent that would finally implode its soul to the face of the world.