Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 8, Week 12

I was far too young when I first saw Taxi Driver. Of the many scenes that left a lasting impression, one of the strongest was this one, which was shot at the now-defunct Belmore Cafeteria. Between Peter Boyle's sleazy story, Travis' Alka-Seltzer fizzing, and the practically motionless pimps simply staring, it's an amazingly haunting sequence that was no doubt enhanced by my familiarity with the place. A somewhat irresponsible cabbie uncle of mine would occasionally take me to the Belmore (corner of 28th and Park Avenue South) for lunch, and his hack buddies were not unlike the gang depicted in Scorsese's film. Their conversations were entirely inappropriate for a ten year-old, but it was quite an education in salty slang. (I was the only kid at school who knew what felching was. Lovely.) I was somewhat surprised (and a bit relieved) to hear similar reactions from many of you. What is it exactly about that scene that makes it so unforgettable -- especially in a film full of such moments? Regardless, my hopes of stumping you failed -- a record number of people submitted correct guesses. This is the final quiz of this round, and though I haven't actually begun to look at the numbers yet, I suspect there will be tie for at least one place, if not more. So, for this final quiz, I've taken a difficult, insignificant shot from a well-known film with a less-than-obvious connection to Taxi Driver. As always, submit your answers to this address. Good luck to all of you!

Comments

[Flickhead]

Scorsese's inclusion of street drummer Gene Palma in Taxi Driver -- "Now going back thirty years to Chick Webb" -- makes me think of Manhattan's other sidewalk stars. (According to the IMDb, Palma also appeared in the John Ritter movie, Hero at Large.)

Interstellar jazz interpreter Moondog was rescued from obscurity by a recording contract, but I've heard stories about his salad days on the streets. And back in the '70s I used to listen to the Purple Rabbi, who rolled his upright piano to a spot under the arch in Washington Square Park.

Has anyone made a documentary about this end of show business? There must be dozens of notable Manhattan street artists worth learning about.

[Filmbrain]

Gosh Flickhead, you really are stirring up the memories.

A history of New York's street performers would make for an excellent documentary, though I imagine it would be hard to locate any of the regular performers.

Gene Palma used to scare me, by the way.

As for Moondog, I have a great photo of him with my father, taken on New Year's Eve (circa late 50s - early 60s) on the corner of 54th and 6th Avenue. That was one of his regular spots, and my dad (who lived around the corner) would often buy him coffee.

[Tuwa]

That looks very familiar but I can't place it.

Sometimes I wish I could unlearn what felching is. That and the goatse, and a handful of other things ... remember that Twilight Zone episode where you could sell your memories, and a man did (then wanted them back, yet restoring them was a cruder, less reliable process than removing them? ... actually, now that I think about it, I wonder how they sold the memories in the first place, if restoring them was such a difficult unreliable process).

[live]

Whatever the movie is, that location is my high school, Van Nuys High. I recognize it! awesome!

[la_depressionada]

moondog. jesus. how great was he? if anyone had ever told me then that my beloved city would become the mall of america, i would have sneered in derision. but here we are. the new husband and i were watching midnight cowboy the other night, and i said: if i could only tell you how fun the city used to be. who knew that f murray abraham's tear across the park was really a GOOD thing. amazingly, the harvey keitel/jodie foster strip of 3rd avenue from about 11-14 remained relatively unchanged until they tore up the variety a few months ago.

anyway, the bellmore. it was a very happening place for a party. in the mid late-seventies, we had a couple parties there, with, of course, the cream of local punk rock as entertainment -- never could resist the bass section myself. the cabbies loved me. it was open 24 hours, wasn't it? film-boy, i assure you would have loved my outfits in those days.

(poor armond. he seems to have lost it poor dear. otoh, he still couldn't be more correct about whiny white boys, no?)

on a happier note: i see they've released petulia on dvd.

[Urbaniak]

Oh man, Gene Palma was scary. I saw him once in the early seventies on a trip to the city with my New Jersey family and I never forgot him. When I first saw "Taxi Driver" around 1981 I remember thinking "Jesus Christ! It's that guy!" Forget the corporate striving of the Naked Cowboy. Gene Palma was the real deal.

[Filmbrain]

Of all my Gene Palma encounters, I'll never forget the one that took place on sweltering hot summer night when I was minutes away from puking up some rancid Orange Julius. What I remember most was how my gaze was fixated on the three-inch thick layer of pomade on his head. That sweaty slickness, combined with my upset stomach, led to a violent attack of vomiting two blocks later.

LaD - re: the malling of NYC -- how right you are. The true legacy of the Giuliani years, I guess. Sigh.

Oh, and congratulations on the recent marriage!

[la_depressionada]

yeah well i guess there's a sucker born every minute.

[nel pauper]

Flick - Not "Purple" Rabbi - FLYING Rabbi. He rolled his upright piano over to Washington Square, located himself under the arch and played glistening arpeggios (i.e. muzak). Some (all?) of the keys were covered with strips of red velvet (or maybe it was purple velvet, hence your confusion).

For the record, Moondog left NYC and moved to Germany where he became a very highly respected composer. He married a German woman who took care of him (he was blind) and helped create a career that allowed him to write and have his works performed by symphony orchestras. There's a reecent bio of him I'd love to read.

I used to see Gene Palma around on 6th Ave. He was a truly scary looking guy. Not only the pomade but also the tons of red stuff (rouge?) on his cheeks. He looked like he himself was a Travis Bickle waiting to explode.

There was also an old bearded, disheveled man - what we used to call a bum - on the lower east side near the Bowery, who slowly moved up and down the street (maybe east 3rd or 4th st?) with two sticks tapping them on the street, slowly waving his hands in the air, bringing one stick down at a time, as if in a dance. He would do it all day long. On one hand you could say he was just crazy. But it really seemed like it was his artform. He lived each day giving this performance for hours. It was quite remarkable. This was in the early '70s.

A documentary on these guys would be wonderful. I would give anything to see them all again. But I doubt there's very much existing footage and I assume they're all dead now. A real shame.

Funny, I can relate to these guys better than just about anything I see going on today in the arts.

[Bill Bohaboy]

Hi , I always looked for Gene Palma, the street drummer of times square, we used to go to TS in those days to party and Gene would be on one of the corners drumming away we always gave him a good tip, God NY was great then , it seems the street people have disappeared , a by gone era. Bill Bohaboy Las Vegas PS is he still alive ?

[Filmbrain]

Bill --

Yes, NY was great then. It was filthy, it was dangerous, it was seedy -- but god damn it was real! So little of that remains.

I haven't seen Gene since maybe the early 80s. Don't know if he's alive or dead.

[idcook]

I used to walk by Gene Palma almost every day after work. He seemed to be out there, somewhere in the 40s 50s between 6th and Broadway, every evening.

I’m a little surprised to read that his hair looked that way because of pomade. I would’ve sworn the guy had shoe polish smeared on his head. In fact, I feel certain this was the case even now. Its painted on quality was glaringly obvious.

Palma, along with the pipe puffing, Viking adorned blind man known as Moondog, with his array of drums, cymbals and other small acoustic contraptions, was one of the most attractive personages of the period because they both offered free musical performances.

Though I sometimes have conflicted feelings about the loss of the old Times Square area denizens and settings, there’s no question that it was a veritable circus when compared to the Disney tourist trap that it is now.

Half dollar sized hamburgers for 25 cents; triple-feature third rate martial art films; the flea circus at the bottom of the north east entrance to the 8th avenue line; Peepland; the smoke ring blowing billboard …

hmph… The more I reflect the more I miss it.