MIDNIGHT COWBOY
M idnight Cowboy (John Schlesinger, 1969) is, from a mythic point-of-view, a film about the formation of personality (identity). The film begins with the twisted making of Joe Buck, from parental and social constructions (or misconstructions) of idealized self-images to a genuine transference (Freud's word) of affect (feeling) from idealized object-images. In fact, something like happens in psychoanalysis happens in the film. Instead of repetition or projection of his neuroris, by forming a relationship with Rizzo, Joe Buck is able "work through" his emotions, transferring his fears and loves on to him in a realistic way, in this way being able to master them, because now an adult and not a child. Joe's first identity, at the start of the film, is a mere compulsive repetition of his earlier defensive behavior, denying the frustration and pain of his early childhood (an absent father and a sexually possessive mother). His first meeting with Rizzo (as Ratso) simply repeats this education (or "miseducation): Ratso sends him off to Mr. O'Daniel, where he is one boy among many, apparently doomed to repeat their childhood pains ("I'll work your back off"). It's not until their second meeting (after Joe feels betrayed by the referrsal to O'Daniel) that the real education process and transference begins. It's in every way a mutual journey into Self. Joe at first naturally projects his basic fears on Ratso: he fears, for example, that Ratso may be homosexual, even though Ratso has already denigrated or insulted homosexuals. Ironically, the use of this offensive language ("faggot," etc.) establishes Ratso at once as a suitable role model for Joe (if at first for the wrong reasons). It's Rizzo's easy use of street jargon that doubtless at first endears him to Joe (Rizzo seems to know his way around, while Joe doesn't). In fact, a street scene visually shows this learning process: Joe is almost hit by a truck in the beginning of the film; later Rizzo, in a famous scene, screams insults at a taxi that almost runs him over; Joe in turn imitates that behavior when he is almost clipped by a vehicle in the street. But it is only when both Joe and Rizzo realize their misconceptions of each other's identity that a true education relationship can develop. Both go through some kind of catharsis, or releasing of their pentup (repressed) pain: Rizzo grieves over his lost father while Joe Buck revives grief over his dead aunt. The cemetery scene becomes a key scene in the movie, a facing of the painful past. Now Rizzo remakes Joe. Superficially not much has changed: Joe is sitll remade as a cowboy. But the difference is the goal is less important than the process of Joe's transformation, which is also a transformation in Rizzo. Both learn genuine adult love even as they pursue childish dreams, the way of all growth, in the way that romantic love leads to adult love (whatever that means, and though elusive to define, most would agree on the difference between romantic pursuit and adult love). The key difference is in realistic modifications of our ideal, which both Rizzo and Joe painfully learn. The only two flashforwards in the film show the learning process. The first flashforward shows Buck qutting his job as a cook as he idealizes himself in a mirror; the second flashforward shows Joe assisting a crippled Rizzo down the stairs in order to take him to Flordia, and (presumably) to life. Whereas in one flashforward Joe pursues his cowboy dream, in the second he leaves it behind. The tramsformation is shown in the different outfit Joe wears by the end of the film, while his discarded illusions are symbolically laid on the dying Rizzo (the patterned tropical shirt), since it is too late for Rizzo to pursue a redeemed life (Rizzo in effect dies so Joe can live). Rizzo's Florida dream ("Florida Fantasy" as it's called in the soundtrack album) shows Rizzo running without a limp, showing off to Joe like a child to its father, even as he instructs and oversees Joe's hustling). And Rizzo does achieve a degree of identity before his death: not only the tropical shirt given him by Joe (a symbol of the erotic transference, but erotic in Freud's complete sense, not merely the sexual sense), but also the fulfillment as "Rizzo" not "Ratso" (a symbol of his debased identity as a rat in a condemned building).
EVERYBODY'S TALKING
"Everybody's Talking," by Fred Neil, became the theme song of Midnight Cowboy. It's a good example of how "scratch music" (temp music) can prejudice a director. Director John Schlesinger originally commissions new songs for the film, from several songwriters, including Bob Dylan, Harry Nilsson, and Randy Newman. Dylan's submission ("Lay Lady Lay") missed the deadline; while in the end Schlesinger decided to go with the scratch music. Since "Everybody's Talking" was not written especially for the film, it was not eligible for an Oscar nomination (it probably would have missed out on the Oscar anyway, since "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" received that year's Oscar and probably would have done so even if "Everybody's Talking" had been nominated). It's clear that the lyric to Neil's song fits Midnight Cowboy very well, but it's also fascinating to compare it with the songs originally written for the film. Nilsson's song, in fact, directly imitates the guitar introduction of Neil's song (the way Dmitri Tiomkin's "High Noon" ballad imitated "Riders in the Sky"), while the lyric captures Joe Buck's dreams of New York (see below). Dylan's song (submitted too late, but later included on his Nashville Skyline album and, as a single, becoming a hit) focuses more on Joe Buck's hustling profession ("Lay lady lay, lay across my big brass bed") and the erotic dreams of a hustler's "janes": "Whatever colors you have in your mind, I'll show them to you can't you see them shine?"). Randy Newman's song contrasts the idealized images of a cowboy's world with the reality in New York City, especially apt in view of the blasting of Rizzo's condemned building. Nilsson's recording of this song by Newman actually concludes with John Barry's Midnight Cowboy theme.
M idnight Cowboy (John Schlesinger, 1969) is, from a mythic point-of-view, a film about the formation of personality (identity). The film begins with the twisted making of Joe Buck, from parental and social constructions (or misconstructions) of idealized self-images to a genuine transference (Freud's word) of affect (feeling) from idealized object-images. In fact, something like happens in psychoanalysis happens in the film. Instead of repetition or projection of his neuroris, by forming a relationship with Rizzo, Joe Buck is able "work through" his emotions, transferring his fears and loves on to him in a realistic way, in this way being able to master them, because now an adult and not a child. Joe's first identity, at the start of the film, is a mere compulsive repetition of his earlier defensive behavior, denying the frustration and pain of his early childhood (an absent father and a sexually possessive mother). His first meeting with Rizzo (as Ratso) simply repeats this education (or "miseducation): Ratso sends him off to Mr. O'Daniel, where he is one boy among many, apparently doomed to repeat their childhood pains ("I'll work your back off"). It's not until their second meeting (after Joe feels betrayed by the referrsal to O'Daniel) that the real education process and transference begins. It's in every way a mutual journey into Self. Joe at first naturally projects his basic fears on Ratso: he fears, for example, that Ratso may be homosexual, even though Ratso has already denigrated or insulted homosexuals. Ironically, the use of this offensive language ("faggot," etc.) establishes Ratso at once as a suitable role model for Joe (if at first for the wrong reasons). It's Rizzo's easy use of street jargon that doubtless at first endears him to Joe (Rizzo seems to know his way around, while Joe doesn't). In fact, a street scene visually shows this learning process: Joe is almost hit by a truck in the beginning of the film; later Rizzo, in a famous scene, screams insults at a taxi that almost runs him over; Joe in turn imitates that behavior when he is almost clipped by a vehicle in the street. But it is only when both Joe and Rizzo realize their misconceptions of each other's identity that a true education relationship can develop. Both go through some kind of catharsis, or releasing of their pentup (repressed) pain: Rizzo grieves over his lost father while Joe Buck revives grief over his dead aunt. The cemetery scene becomes a key scene in the movie, a facing of the painful past. Now Rizzo remakes Joe. Superficially not much has changed: Joe is sitll remade as a cowboy. But the difference is the goal is less important than the process of Joe's transformation, which is also a transformation in Rizzo. Both learn genuine adult love even as they pursue childish dreams, the way of all growth, in the way that romantic love leads to adult love (whatever that means, and though elusive to define, most would agree on the difference between romantic pursuit and adult love). The key difference is in realistic modifications of our ideal, which both Rizzo and Joe painfully learn. The only two flashforwards in the film show the learning process. The first flashforward shows Buck qutting his job as a cook as he idealizes himself in a mirror; the second flashforward shows Joe assisting a crippled Rizzo down the stairs in order to take him to Flordia, and (presumably) to life. Whereas in one flashforward Joe pursues his cowboy dream, in the second he leaves it behind. The tramsformation is shown in the different outfit Joe wears by the end of the film, while his discarded illusions are symbolically laid on the dying Rizzo (the patterned tropical shirt), since it is too late for Rizzo to pursue a redeemed life (Rizzo in effect dies so Joe can live). Rizzo's Florida dream ("Florida Fantasy" as it's called in the soundtrack album) shows Rizzo running without a limp, showing off to Joe like a child to its father, even as he instructs and oversees Joe's hustling). And Rizzo does achieve a degree of identity before his death: not only the tropical shirt given him by Joe (a symbol of the erotic transference, but erotic in Freud's complete sense, not merely the sexual sense), but also the fulfillment as "Rizzo" not "Ratso" (a symbol of his debased identity as a rat in a condemned building).
EVERYBODY'S TALKING
"Everybody's Talking," by Fred Neil, became the theme song of Midnight Cowboy. It's a good example of how "scratch music" (temp music) can prejudice a director. Director John Schlesinger originally commissions new songs for the film, from several songwriters, including Bob Dylan, Harry Nilsson, and Randy Newman. Dylan's submission ("Lay Lady Lay") missed the deadline; while in the end Schlesinger decided to go with the scratch music. Since "Everybody's Talking" was not written especially for the film, it was not eligible for an Oscar nomination (it probably would have missed out on the Oscar anyway, since "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" received that year's Oscar and probably would have done so even if "Everybody's Talking" had been nominated). It's clear that the lyric to Neil's song fits Midnight Cowboy very well, but it's also fascinating to compare it with the songs originally written for the film. Nilsson's song, in fact, directly imitates the guitar introduction of Neil's song (the way Dmitri Tiomkin's "High Noon" ballad imitated "Riders in the Sky"), while the lyric captures Joe Buck's dreams of New York (see below). Dylan's song (submitted too late, but later included on his Nashville Skyline album and, as a single, becoming a hit) focuses more on Joe Buck's hustling profession ("Lay lady lay, lay across my big brass bed") and the erotic dreams of a hustler's "janes": "Whatever colors you have in your mind, I'll show them to you can't you see them shine?"). Randy Newman's song contrasts the idealized images of a cowboy's world with the reality in New York City, especially apt in view of the blasting of Rizzo's condemned building. Nilsson's recording of this song by Newman actually concludes with John Barry's Midnight Cowboy theme.
Everybody's talking at me
I don't hear a word they're saying
Only the echoes of my mind.
People stop and staring
I can't see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes
I'm going where the sun keeps shining
Through the pouring rain.
Going where the weather suits my clothes
Banking off of the northeast winds
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone...
I'm going where the sun keeps shining
Through the pouring rain.
Going where the weather suits my clothes
Banking off of the northeast winds
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone...
Everybody's talking at me. . . .
EVERYBODY'S TALKING (2)
I don't hear a word they're sayin'
Only the echoes of my mind.
People stop and staring
I can't see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes
I'm going where the sun keeps shining
Through the pouring rain.
Going where the weather suits my clothes
Banking off of the northeast winds
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone.
Everybody's talking at me
Can't hear a word they're saying
Only the echoes of my mind
I won't let you leave my love behind
No I won't let you leave. . . .
EVERYBODY'S TALKING (3)
Everybody's talking at meI don't hear a word they're saying
Only the echoes of my mind.
People stop and staring
I can't see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes
I'm goin' where the sun keeps shining
Through the pourin' rain.
Going where the weather suits my clothes
Banking off of the northeast winds
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone...
I'm going where the sun keeps shining
Through the pouring rain.
Going where the weather suits my clothes
Banking off of the northeast winds
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone...
Everybody's talking at me,
Can't hear a word they're saying
Only the echoes of my mind
I won't let you leave my love behind
No I won't let you leave. . . .
I GUESS THE LORD MUST BE IN NEW YORK CITY
Harry Nilsson
I'll say goodbye to all my sorrow
And by tomorrow
I'll be on my way
I guess the Lord must be in New York City
I'm so tired of getting nowhere
Seeing my prayers goin' unanswered
I guess the Lord must be in New York City
Well, here I am, Lord
Knocking at your back door
Ain't it wonderful to be
Where I've always wanted to be?
For the first time, I'll breathe free
Here in New York City
Say goodbye to all my sorrow
And by tomorrow
I'll be on my way
I guess the Lord must be in New York City
So tired of getting nowhere and
And seeing my prayers going unanswered
I guess the Lord must be in New York City
Well, here I am, Lord
Knocking at your back door
Ain't it wonderful to be
Where I've always wanted to be?
For the first time, I'll breathe free
Here in New York City.
COWBOY
Randy Newman
Randy Newman
Cold gray buildings where a hill should be
Steel and concrete closing in on me
City faces haunt the places
I used to roam
Cowboy, cowboy - can't run, can't hide
Too late to fight now - too tired to try
Wind that once blew free
Now scatters dust to the sky
Cowboy, cowboy - can't run, can't hide
Too late to fight now - too tired to try.
LAY LADY LAY
BOB DYLAN
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bedBOB DYLAN
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Whatever colors you have in your mind
I'll show them to you and you'll see them shine
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Until the break of day, let me see you make him smile
His clothes are dirty but his hands are clean
And you're the best thing that he's ever seen
Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Why wait any longer for the world to begin
You can have your cake and eat it too
Why wait any longer for the one you love
When he's standing in front of you
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead
I long to see you in the morning light
I long to reach for you in the night
Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead.
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