Not since the beginnings of [Akira] Kurosawa have we seen such nervous authority. From [Martin Scorsese's] earliest films he started a dialogue with the audience compelling them to take part. Together with Robert De Niro he has invented a new film language. (p. 1)

[Scorsese and De Niro] are using a film language that dares the audience to stay ahead of them. It's the greatest compliment a filmmaker can pay to his audience; and we appreciate it. Half the time we yawn our heads off, as the film director underlines some point we found out for ourselves ten minutes ago. Scorsese-De Niro is a different ball game. Visual and verbal points are made with rapier-like touches. A word creates an image, an image begets a sequence, a one-line joke ends it, a reaction is long in coming and then explodes with unexpected violence, emotions are concealed, nothing is predictable, a sudden word, a face caught at the moment of truth, bring tears to our eyes. This is the world of Martin Scorsese. (pp. 1, 3)

I have heard people whine about the violence in Mean Streets, the violence in Taxi Driver. Scorsese is an artist. Pick up a copy of The Disasters of War. See that naked, maimed figure of a man, impaled on a stake? See those tumbled women, raped and murdered? See that priest hanged from a tree? Do you think that Goya was trying to get a cheap thrill out of these horrors? No more is Martin Scorsese. He has an eye that misses nothing, that looks on beauty and terror with the same dispassionate eye, with the same love and compassion. He cannot tell anything but the truth.

I wish we had a dozen more Scorseses. But it is not likely to happen. If we get one in every decade we'll be lucky. I'll settle for that. (p. 3)