Boxcar Bertha

I don’t know what it has, but I like it. With 'Boxcar Bertha', Scorsese officially begins what I like to call his “shooting cinema”: a more direct, more clearly defined style, with a stronger emphasis on action. The presence of the Bible becomes noticeable once again, as do sex and nudity. And honestly, I’m not entirely sure whether these elements function as provocation, as tools for character development, or as the expression of a moral idea. At the same time, Scorsese gradually moves into political cinema. It’s hard for me not to think of Metropolis when confronted with its depiction of class struggle. The workers are shown as oppressed figures who must organize, resist, and reclaim their rights—paradoxically, they are also the most tolerant in social terms. The narrative is far more direct and linear than in 'Who’s That Knocking at My Door'. There is no intention here to disorient the viewer. The story is more accessible, and the filmmaking follows suit. The editing bears more responsibility than the screenplay, adopting a more conventional style. At times, the image is left alone in silence between lines of dialogue, accompanied only by music—music that becomes so insistent it can feel exhausting. As I gradually become familiar with the central quartet of characters, I start to feel part of the group. They work remarkably well together. David Carradine, Barry Primus, and Bernie Casey are all thoroughly enjoyable to watch, even if they initially seem incompatible with one another. Barbara Hershey, however, clearly stands out. Her performance is natural, human, and easy to understand. She is effective both alone and alongside others, carrying much of the film’s emotional weight. She is the protagonist, and Scorsese makes that very clear. The final sequences are the most uncomfortable. There is a sense of waiting, of anticipating something that never quite arrives. Yet it is precisely this absence that gives the ending its strength. It works because what should be there—or happen—simply isn’t. It’s not a perfect film, but it is a very useful one for understanding how Scorsese’s direction would evolve throughout his broader filmography.