Carlito’s Way (1993) Deserves a Spot in the Pantheon of Crime Classics (Review)

“The street is watching” is a weighty and ominous line that conveys paranoia and trepidation, as well as knowledge of one’s surroundings, and it’s a line that echoes throughout Carlito’s Way, a fine example of one of the oldest and most American of film genres – the crime movie. When done well it’s a beautiful distillation of American capitalism, class and social tensions, as well as the logics of subculture – all of which feature prominently in Carlito’s Way. Yet despite its effective utilisation of genre tropes, striking set pieces, and big name stars and director, Carlito’s Way is seldom mentioned in relation to other classics like The Godfather, Once Upon a Time In America, or even Scarface – with which it shares director Brian De Palma and star Al Pacino.

Released in 1993 but set in 1975, the film is based on two novels by Edwin Torres – a Puerto Rican former New York judge whose background and experiences lend the criminal culture and society a richly textured backdrop. The street not only watches, but also sings and indeed smells as the environment crafted by De Palma and his collaborators feels inhabited and genuine. Within this environment we have Carlito Brigante (Pacino), a Puerto Rican convict released five years into a thirty-year sentence thanks to his skilled lawyer Dave Kleinfeld (Sean Penn). Carlito is determined to go straight, move to the Bahamas with the love of his life Gail (Penelope Ann Miller), and leave the criminal world behind. But to quote another Pacino gangster, just when he thought he was out, they pull him back in, as criminal associations frustrate his pursuits at every turn – including his old friends Pachungo (Luis Guzman), and Lalin (Viggo Mortenson), his new acquaintance Benny Blanco from the Bronx (John Luguizamo), and especially Kleinfeld.

This is a fluid and stylish film with rich lustrous colours, vivid production and a camera that draws you in, and this new edition from Arrow comes in a vibrant HD transfer that allows the viewer to appreciate the style and design without ever feeling indulgent. Brian De Palma is renowned as a Hitchcock disciple, often lifting from, and paying homage to, the master of suspense. Carlito’s Way is also reminiscent of Goodfellas from three years earlier – especially during the assured long takes through the nightclub Carlito manages, as though De Palma is expanding the Copacabana sequence from Goodfellas into a wider milieu for his protagonist. Split diopters and Dutch angles also permeate the film, as well as striking use of lighting, reflections and a strong sense of space – both physical and cultural – and all of elements combine to create a wonderfully atmospheric sense of 1970s New York. The line “the street is watching” resonates throughout the film, the constant sense of movement fitting because there’s a constant feeling of being watched. It’s also a pleasingly diverse New York for a ’90s film, with various races and ethnicities featuring rather than being whitewashed.

As well as being a vibrant crime film where you can smell the history and legacy of the street, Carlito’s Way is also a tragic love story. The opening sequence sets the tone, both in terms of events as well as its monochrome palette, and Carlito’s voiceover lends a melancholy and world-weary aspect, yet a spark of hope remains – especially in reference to Gail. While his watching her from afar is somewhat voyeuristic, that’s also consistent with his desperate reaching, and maybe we want these two to get away together, but we could as easily think they will not, and perhaps even should not. The viewer’s perspective will depend on how one feels about the characters, who are performed by a strong cast.

Pacino is ferocious, devouring the scenery like anyone else would have a chance to, and wide shots capture him almost skipping through streets with a lively, nervous energy, while also conveying the weight he feels from a life spent looking over his shoulder. Penn is more subdued and superbly slimy, drinking in, and indeed snorting, much of what he sees, and the relationship between these two is central – a certain irony in that the lawyer who sprung Carlito from prison brings him closer to criminal syndicates. Miller makes the most of what she has, but as is often the case the women’s roles are underwritten, Gail being largely a goal for Carlito with little agency of her own. That said, she is sympathetic in her belief in this tragic figure, wanting to be with him while knowing, but not accepting, the risk that comes with loving a gangster.

Their longing for each other is largely conveyed by the score, which is often noticeable almost to the point of being intrusive, but during the more bombastic sequences it elevates the tension and sense of desperation. This is especially true during the intense finale – a chase through the carriages of a train and then a celebrated climax sequence in New York’s Grand Central Station, and here De Palma demonstrates why he is the maestro he is.

The station sequence in The Untouchables is a more celebrated De Palma moment, but the overt homage to Battleship Potemkin can be rather distancing. Carlito’s Way, however, keeps the viewer closely tied to Carlito’s progress, the tension ratcheting ever higher as other commuters get in the way, a deadline ticks ever closer and an escalator becomes knuckle-chewingly long. The climax is a perfect conclusion to a very strong film, even though some aspects are perhaps over-played and it could be argued that the film could be tighter overall. The pungent environment and the constantly fluid camera, closely tied to Pacino’s similarly mobile performance, is riveting throughout, and this gem receives a loving treatment here that makes it well worth seeking out.

The extras on this 4K and Blu-Ray edition include some previously released materials such as trailers, an original promotional featurette, an image gallery, deleted scenes, and a documentary on the making of the film – reissued from the original DVD release. This documentary includes some fascinating and quite charming accounts and anecdotes about the production, including the geography of shooting a pool table scene, the challenges of filming on trains, and the rightly celebrated finale at Grand Central Station. There are various talking heads, including Edwin Torres and Brian De Palma, as well as editor Bill Pankow, producer Martin Bergman, and screenwriter David Koepp, but no actors feature here – which is a shame, especially since Bergman recounts Pacino’s enthusiasm for the character.

Speaking of absences, De Palma himself is notable by his absence from the new material created especially for this release. There’s an archival Interview that seems to be more of those done for the “Making Of” based on the setting, where De Palma describes the world of the film, taking a clear visual standpoint, and the inclusion of actual gangsters in the movie. It’s a rather fragmentary interview with little sense of progression, but it does give a strong sense of De Palma as a person. Critical of critics, fans, and ‘cut and paste’ filmmaking alike, he comes across as rather arrogant, describing himself as not part of an establishment – an interesting figure, if not entirely likeable (not that he needs to be).

A more insightful and revealing extra is De Palma’s Way – a fascinating appreciation by critic David Edelstein about De Palma’s style and the film as a whole. Treatment of filmmakers is often difficult because the discussion can be hagiographic or overly negative, but Edelstein gets the balance right. He identifies the problems with De Palma’s filmmaking while highlighting what works about it, the Hitchcock references, as well as the innovation, and gives a strong sense of why he enjoys these films – especially Carlito’s Way.

Further insights into the filmmaking process are found in Cutting Carlito’s Way which features interviews with editors Bill Pankow and Kristina Boden. They discuss De Palma’s approach and responses to others’ suggestions, and also explain the challenges they faced in terms of a quick turnaround between the end of shooting and the film’s release. This quick edit was only possible with two editors who explain the practice of editing, focusing on actors’ performances, and balancing that with the director’s vision. Pankow explains that he uses the images to guide the edits and adds dialogue afterward, while Boden states that she pays little attention to the written script because of the primacy of the images, and both mention that the film stands up after thirty years – and it’s hard to disagree.

Vincent’s Archive – Carlito’s Way