Ahhh…New York City. I once had dreams of living there, dreams of acting on a Broadway stage. When I heard Sinatra sing, “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere,” I would get chills. I still do…Sometimes.
This inconsistency is by no means due to me out growing Sinatra’s bodacious song stylings–hardly, he’s only gotten better to me– rather, it’s because I’ve out grown my youthful bravado…Finally. And that’s a good thing, since I’ve gotten a lot older and, yes, a little wiser. Plus I finally made it there–for the weekend. And it was awesome. And intimidating as all git-out.
Hot. Crowded. Relentlessly noisy…Fast.
Too fast for this woman who has lived the last thirty years in Nashville. Way too fast for the twenty-year-old who left Odessa, Texas to live in Nashville because her husband said, “No way am I moving to New York City.” (Thank you honey. We would have lasted about two weeks, if that.)
In John Schlesinger’s groundbreaking 1969 grunge drama, Midnight Cowboy, huckster Joe Buck (Jon Voight) has dreams of New York City too. That’s because he lives in Podunk Texas and washes dishes in a diner. (In fact, the opening scenes of Midnight Cowboy were filmed in Big Spring which is just seventy-miles from Odessa. If you lived there you’d probably dream of being someplace else too.)
When Joe Buck preens and flexes in his dresser mirror–shirtless and shiftless–he doesn’t see what we do. He sees Paul Newman in Hud. We see a goofy man-child with a decent physique who talks to himself. Tellingly, when he brags to a fellow dishwasher that he’s about to blow the sad-sack joint for NYC where he has plans to be a hustler, i.e., a male prostitute for wealthy women, the guy–not exactly demonstrative to begin with–goes witheringly blank. “I don’t know nothin’ about that,” the guy says.
“I’ll send ya’ a postcard,” Joe Buck gloats. With that he hops on a bus.
Even in West Texas, among a western wear sporting citizenry, Joe Buck stands out. Like a sour thumb. While those so inclined might look like a Sears and Roebuck LBJ (keep in mind this is late sixties, hence the references) or a real deal kicker with fraying boot cut Wranglers and sweat stained straw Stetson, Joe Buck favors aqua blue shirts trimmed with roses and black bandannas knotted Roy Rodgers style around his neck.
On the bus he is all wide-eyed wonder with about another thousand miles to go. He’s got one of those portable AM radios from the time–a little bigger than the transistor–that’s his prized possession. When, finally, they are some two to three hundred miles out, he picks up a local radio station, “You hear that?” he enthuses to anyone who will listen–and, cringingly, to those who don’t want to–“that’s New York talkin’.”
At first it’s fun to experience the city with Joe Buck. Once there he heads straight for what he’s seen on TV–Midtown Manhattan. He checks into a not too unreasonably seedy hotel that overlooks Times Square and spends his days walking the streets. We walk with him.
Joe Buck is broad-chested and rangy. When he walks down his hometown streets to the lilting guitar strumming of Nilsson’s gorgeous Everybody’s Talking he has a ridiculous flailing swagger. He chews his gum obnoxiously with a lascivious grin plastered on his face. Think John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever without the rhythm or the sex appeal. But when he walks the Manhattan streets–again to the same lilting strumming–he is boxed in. With shoulder to shoulder crowds there’s no room to get his groove on. And though he’s head and shoulders taller than everybody else he doesn’t emit power, or even his previous doofus charm, here it’s strictly awkwardness.
Still he is happy and awe struck. That is until his money starts to run low and that doesn’t take long because he spends it like water (at one point giving it away to a slutty sixty-something kept woman who was supposed to be his client). Then he becomes bewildered and scared. Even then he’s too “proud” to take a job as a dishwasher.
Big city life is hard on the disenfranchised. Joe Buck has never seen a homeless person before and now he’s inundated with them. Upon running onto a drunk-sick bum sprawled out on the sidewalk he is overwhelmed with helplessness; under the sheer veneer of bluster lies a gentle soul. So gentle that when he is driven by desperation to turn a gay trick in a movie theater, he can not bring himself to beat the bookish young man who can’t come up with the money after the deed is done. He can’t even take the kid’s watch.
Joe Buck is not gay as some critics opined back in the day. He is, however, impotent when he is with women of his own age, although he has no problem performing with the raunchy older woman (Sylvia Miles) who becomes offended when he asks her to pay. This is not just a kinky predilection. He was sexually groomed and abused as a child. He has also been cloistered and fawned over. This is what drives his inappropriate naivete and inability to take care of himself. When he gets kicked out of his hotel room for not paying the bill, he’s surprised. We knew it was going to happen before he even checked in.
This is where Ratso (Dustin Hoffman) comes in. Ratso is a native New Yorker. He is also a disgusting specimen of human flesh. He doesn’t bathe even on the rare opportunity that he gets the chance; like Joe Buck, he’s homeless.
Ratso walks with a limp–probably from getting hit by a car in an insurance scam–and is noticeably sick. He coughs a lot. He survives anyway he can besides violence (he hasn’t got the strength or the acumen) or turning tricks (he’s not interested and he doesn’t want to starve).
At first he rips Joe Buck off, taking his last twenty bucks. Later when he sees the wannabe hustler, pale and skinny, he has a crisis of conscience and fear; Joe Buck’s some kind of pissed off and the streets have made him meaner than he was with the kid.
Joe Buck’s also sick and starving. Ratso takes him to an abandoned building where he’s been squatting and nurses him back to health. Then he shows him the ropes of surviving the streets of NYC homeless style.
Together they form a seemingly ridiculous partnership–Joe Buck as the talent, Ratso as the pimp–that, incredibly, takes them all the way to an upscale artist’s loft (an obvious reference to Andy Warhol) and one of his wealthy, well connected lady friends who’s amused, curious and willing to pay Joe Buck for his services. (She also has friends who are interested too.)
Now, just as Joe Buck teeters on the brink of his dream, Ratso nearly succumbs to his illness; he has tuberculosis. Rather than go to the hospital Ratso is convinced that the Florida sunshine is his cure. If only they could wait a week or so Joe Buck could amass the funds for the trip with proceeds from his new found client and her friends. But Ratso can’t wait–he has to go NOW. This means Joe Buck has to do what he is loath to: go back to the movie theater area where he picked up the bookish young man and ply his wares as a midnight cowboy.
If all of this sounds a bit too bleak and a lot too unsavory think of how it played forty-eight years ago. Then ponder this: Midnight Cowboy has been selected for preservation in the National Film Registry and it ranks #36 on the American Film Institute Greatest Films of All Time list. It won the Academy Award of 1969 for Best Picture, Best Director and Best Adapted Screen Play. Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman were nominated for Best Actor. Sylvia Miles was nominated for Best Supporting Actress.
But perhaps even more significant is this curious (and whether or not it is that depends on your point of view) tidbit: Midnight Cowboy is one of Jimmy Carter’s favorite films. He would often screen it in the White House. He appreciated its humanity.
If you lived there you’d probably dream of being someplace else too – that’s a great line!
Very thoughtful review.
I love visiting NYC. I think I could definitely live there – I love the energy but it’s impossible to imagine leaving Canada.
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Thanks Jay. I know NYC is out of my league as far as living there, but I really want to go back and visit for more than a weekend. I hope you live close so you can cross over whenever you get the urge. For me that would be ideal.
Yes, I love Midnight Cowboy. I have an affinity for the underdog. The first time I saw it, I cried like a baby. It and the Way We Were really strike an emotional accord with me. Yes, I know they couldn’t be anymore different. It’s just the way I roll. Thanks for supporting my blog.
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Great review as always 🙂 Even though I think Midnight Cowboy is slightly (just slightly) off from equaling that same level of greatness that director John Schlessinger’s British works did, it nevertheless comes very close. I cannot imagine the two leads being played by anyone else but Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight. Personally, NYC is nice to visit, but as with all big popular cities (or at least most in my opinion), living there would be a big challenge. Not the fault of any of those cities mind you, it’s just the status they expect the place to live up to. Very interesting that Jimmy Carter loved the movie, but he was always this humanitarian of a person so that probably was not surprising on a closer focus. Here is another interesting bit of trivia: did you know that the young man Buck meets in the movie theater was played by Bob Balaban? He is the son of the late Elmer Balaban, who was arguably one of the most famous movie theater founders of Chicago during the early to mid 20th century. Anyway, keep up the great work as always and I left another reply to yours under the John Holmes post 🙂
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Appreciate it John. I did not know that about Bob Balaban. Interesting. You’re knowledge is bad @##.
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Why thank you for the kind words and your knowledge is bad @## too 🙂
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Wonderful review Very insightful.
I do find it fascinating that just nine years before Midnight Cowboy The Apartment was the New York City Oscar darling and by the end of the decade we were living with the outcasts, struggling with the day to day hustle. I do appreciate that a film like this exists as a time capsule and it remains as powerful today as it must have been then. Joe Buck and Ratso are the unlikeliest of companions but there is so much truth and vulnerability revealed between them. I can’t think of a better film to send off the 60s with.
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Thank you. Those are very kind words. This film is strangely personal to me, although my background is worlds away from theirs–thank the good Lord. My mom always taught me that we can learn for everybody. Ratso and Joe Buck have some hard and beautiful lessons to give.
By the way, I really like The Apartment. It is life affirming in a much more traditional way. Sometimes that’s refreshing when you spend as much time with hardcore heavies as I do. Ha!
Thanks for stopping by.
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A spectacular take on one of my all time favorite films. I saw this back in 1969 right after I got home from Vietnam. Having grown up in NYC I can say Schlesinger caught the City like a native. Joe Buck was a kid out of his league, a true fish out of water. Voight captures it perfectly. Spectacular performances from both him and Hoffman. You do feel sorry for both of them. They were so different, yet on the same downward path. I always wondered what Joe Buck did after arriving in Florida. Most likely, he tried to make his way back home. Then again, he might have been too ashame after all the bragging he did to go back. By the way, Jennifer Salt who played Annie the Texas girl he makes it with is the daughter of the film’s screenwriter Waldo Salt who was blacklisted for many years. She was in DePalma’s film Sisters and later in the TV show Soap. I don’t think anyone mentioned that this film was X rated back in 1969; the only film with that status to win an Oscar. Today, it would probably be rated PG or PG13. John mentioned Bob Balaban. I remember him best from his reacurring role as Russell Dalrymple, the TV Exec in Seinfeld.
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Wow, you and John are a plethora of film knowledge. I’m out of my league with you guys.
I love Soap. Was she Jessica’s sister? Ummm…Nooo, she would have been too young…I can’t place her.
Anyway, thanks John. I prefer to think that Joe stayed in Florida, got a straight job and settled down with a nice girl.
Yeah, I didn’t mention the rated X part. I was fascinated by that when I was a kid because I knew my mother had seen it. She was NOT the type to see an X rated film. She always told me it was a matter of subject matter, not so much nastiness. True. More or less.
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Salt played Eunice, One of Jessica’s daughters. I think Judy Canova was the other daughter.
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Hows that for a tagline to NY “Hot. Crowded. Relentlessly noisy…Fast.” Love it.
I so want to go, I wanna go to all the comedy clubs, record shops and take photos of.. well everything. One day but it’s gotta be for at least a month. Money! Sheeeeet! A spanner in the works!
I like that you had the Joe Buck urge to leave for the bright lights big city.
It’s a film that since seeing it at around 16 has just stayed with me. The NY setting and the seedier side of life just hooked me in. I love the way Joe sees himself as a big hunk to the ladies but it’s the men that it attracts in his cowboy get up. His naivety makes me smile as his innocent wide eyed wandering the big city.
The beautiful friendship that forms from two people so poles apart that they might as well be speaking different languages. That chalk and cheese relationship that is only happening out of desperation. Only to blossom into some kind of sweet brotherly love affair. All leading to a friendship that in the end breaks your heart.
It’s impossible to write everything I like about this, as I’d be typing all night. The same goes to wanting the address every amazing point you make in the article. It has the same awe and gushing love that I also have for this film.
So here’s a few quick fire bits. Brenda Vaccaro loved her performance, the hippy trip out scene. The soundtrack esp Elephant Memory track “Old Man Willow”. The era, the bitter sweet, the sadness, the characters. This film has so much. You understand my passion.
Pamela this is a beautiful read and sums up the brilliance of this perfect film.
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Thanks Mikey. You are too kind. I’ve always liked Brenda Vaccaro. She is/was consistently good. I love her voice. I too appreciate the soundtrack. My only misgiving about the film is that it doesn’t have that timeless quality to it that so many of the great films have. It would have, if not for the Andy Warhol psychedelic sequence. I think that sequence is a drag on the film–and though Midnight Cowboy a personal favorite of mine, that element takes it down just a notch from being a perfect 5 to the just the wee bit imperfect 4 1/2 stars. But that’s just me. Plus, I like imperfection.
Yes, I hope you get to experience NYC. I want to go again and spend 4 or 5 days. I also want to go to London. Have you been?
Oh, and one more thing…Call me Pam. Pamela is more of a formality. It is seldom used by my friends.
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Well Pam it is, thanks for letting me know. Nice to be in the movie friend zone.
You know what it was the hippy scene that I loved as a teen. Just like the Coogan’s Bluff club scene when he walks in the hippy club with his stetson with “Pigeon Toed Orange Peel” playing in the background. Yeh they definitely stamp an era.
I love the way Coogan Everyone thinks he from Texas has to annoyingly reply “I’m from Arizona”
With the UK being so tiny London is a 100 miles away for me. Used go weekly buying records and clubbing etc. Now probably 4/5 times a year visiting museums and exhibitions.
PS I so need to watch Midnight Cowboy again so very soon. Thanks for relighting that buzz.
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Oh my gosh, “Pigeon Toed Orange Peel” that was terrible…So indicative of an old fart–one that assuredly loved Jazz like they all did back in the day–taking a blindfolded stab at “Psychedelic Rock”. Hilarious. I can’t say that I liked Coogan’s Bluff, Mikey, though I am a Clint Eastwood fan. He was very handsome in the movie. And yes, there is a marked difference between Texans and Arizonians–Texans are much better looking and way smarter. Ha! Thanks for the comments. Always a pleasure.
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Haha I quite like a bit of psychedelic nonsense here and there though jazz, soul and reggae dub are my loves. Coogan’s Bluff just cracks me up, it’s fun. Certainly not up there with Mr Clints good stuff but it makes me smile.
Yep Clint was/is the man. Here’s a little musical tribute and low and behold the wolfman naked!!!! Haha it’s not as bad as it sounds! Well maybe! Just de-furred LOL
You can now put a face to wolf 🙂
All the best.. Mikey
https://wolfmanscultfilmclub.wordpress.com/2017/08/31/clint-eastwood-funk-attack-plus-the-wolfman-naked/
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