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Although the film was nominated for four Academy Awards nominations (without recognition for director Scorsese, screenwriter Paul Schrader, or cinematographer Michael Chapman): Best Picture, Best Actor (Robert De Niro), Best Supporting Actress (Jodie Foster), and Best Original Score (Bernard Herrmann, nominated posthumously — Herrmann passed away shortly after completing his work in this film) – all were unrewarded. A memorable lamenting saxophone score by Bernard Herrmann (his last) accompanies the film. [Note: He provided some of cinema’s best-known musical accompaniments, for such films as Alfred Hitchcock’s well-known Vertigo (1958), North by Northwest (1959), and Psycho (1960) , and for Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane (1941) and The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) .]
In many ways, the film has become prophetic and mirrors the violence of contemporary news headlines. Notoriously, the film is linked to and may have triggered the political assassination (copy-cat) attempt by inconspicuous John Hinckley on President Ronald Reagan in 1981, illuminating his dangerous fixation on actress Jodie Foster, and resulting in the assassin’s infamous media-hero status. Other misfits have emerged as lonely and disturbed individuals who act out their killer impulses on high school campuses or in terrorist acts. This film has also influenced other future filmmakers, including Quentin Tarantino ( Reservoir Dogs (1992) ), and David Fincher ( Se7en (1995) ).
The film opens impressionistically with the credits on top of a night view of the streets of Manhattan – a scene of urban jungle warfare. (The entire film was shot on location in New York City.) There are open sewers and manhole covers with steam vapors rising in cloudy gusts – from Hell itself, and glaring red neon lights are flashed and reflected on the face of a New York cab driver. He is existentially lost. Through a rainy taxicab windshield, we see the rainy, slick streets, an allegorical underworld vision composed of hustlers and derelicts, and a foreshadowing of the future tone of the film.
Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro), an enigmatic, 20th century loner enters into the personnel office of a cab company. He applies as a hack in a taxi company to drive the taxi night shift, because he is an insomniac: "I can’t sleep nights" and he finds nothing meaningful to do during the days. As a therapeutic solution to his life, Bickle even offers to work Jewish holidays and ride into the city’s sleaziest areas – he explains that he might as well get paid for wandering haphazardly:
Bickle: I can’t sleep nights.
Personnel Officer: There’s porno theatres for that.
Bickle: I know. I tried that.
Personnel Officer: So whaddaya do now?
Bickle: I ride around nights mostly. Subways, buses. Figure you know, I’m gonna do that, I might as well get paid for it.
Personnel Officer: Wanna work uptown nights – South Bronx, Harlem?
Bickle: I’ll work any time, anywhere.
Personnel Officer: Will ya work Jewish holidays?
Bickle: Any time, anywhere.
He offers only a few biographical facts about his background – he is a twenty-six year old ex-Marine [Travis is possibly a battle-scarred Vietnam Vet, but not specifically identified as such. His Marine battle jacket has "King Kong Brigade" patches on it, and his psychological profile approximates those of war-zone combatants. But the film doesn’t clearly make that distinction]:
Personnel Officer: All right. Let me see your chauffeur’s license. How’s your driving record?
Bickle (grinning to himself): It’s clean, it’s real clean like my conscience.
Personnel Officer: Physical?
Personnel Officer: Age?
Personnel Officer: Education?
Bickle (replying vaguely and sheepishly): Some, here and there you know.
Personnel Officer: Military record?
Bickle: Honorable discharge, May 1973.
Personnel Officer: Were you in the Army?
Personnel Officer: I was in the Marines, too. So what is it? You need an extra job? Are you moonlighting?
Bickle: Well I, I just want to work long hours. What’s ‘moonlighting’?
Personnel Officer: Look. Just fill out these forms and check back tomorrow when the shift breaks.
As Travis leaves, the camera pans past the interior of a Manhattan cab garage. Following a daily (and nightly) monotonous routine, Travis writes in his diary as the camera pans across the interior of his squalid, welfare-style, studio apartment. He has just finished a meal of a Coke and a McDonald’s Quarter Pounder. (There are old newspapers and magazines scattered over his cot/bed, and protective bars on one of the few windows.) His one-dimensional life, one totally alienated from others, is pathetically built on fear and self-loathing. In a droning voice-over, he narrates cynically from the tattered journal he keeps in a school composition book purchased at a dimestore. [At the film’s ending, the viewer wonders if his diary’s composed thoughts are a dream state – after his almost certain death.]
Always off-kilter, he hallucinates about his vision of an allegorical rain that will cleanse the dirty, mean streets:
May 10th. Thank God for the rain which has helped wash away the garbage and the trash off the sidewalks. I’m workin’ long hours now. 6:00 in the afternoon to 6:00 in the morning, sometimes even 8:00 in the morning. Six days a week, sometimes seven days a week. It’s a long hustle, but it keeps me real busy. I can take in 300, 350 a week, sometimes even more when I do it off the meter.

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