Motherless Brooklyn
“Norton humanizes Tourette Syndrome in Motherless Brooklyn but still reinforces media tropes about the condition.”
Title: Motherless Brooklyn (2019)
Director: Edward Norton 👨🏼🇺🇸
Writer: Edward Norton 👨🏼🇺🇸 based on the novel by Jonathan Lethem 👨🏼🇺🇸
Reviewed by Li 👩🏻🇺🇸
—SPOILERS AHEAD—
Technical: 4/5
Before seeing Edward Norton’s Motherless Brooklyn at New York Film Festival (NYFF), I had heard mixed feedback for the ‘50s-era caper which clocks in at an indulgent 2 hours and 24 minutes. But luckily, my wariness went unfounded as I quickly got behind the film’s noir-ish vibe and borderline camp. Private gumshoe savant with OCD? Check! Mobsters in pinstripe suits? Check! An ever-present jazz score and an hourglass-shaped leading lady who rocks a red lipstick? Check and check!
The film’s tropiness aside, which can either charm folks or leave them rolling their eyes depending on personal taste, I probably found more footholds into Motherless Brooklyn than the average viewer thanks to its coverage of topics I’m passionate about: New York City history, shadowy political figures, urban planning, and the systemic oppression of minority groups under the guise of economic growth.
Norton—who serves as director, writer, producer, and lead protagonist—crams in so much commentary that you wonder if his editors hadn’t thrown up their hands at some point and left the man to his own devices. An allusion to Trump here or there; overt parallels between the film’s villain Moses Randolph (Alec Baldwin) with New York City’s controversial figure of Robert Moses; a multi-tiered mystery; and romance all jostle for elbow room in this unfocused film. And yet, I had a great time watching the whole thing unfold.
Gender: 3.75/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? YES, but barely
GradeMyMovie.com Assessment: 15% of key cast and crew members were women.
For a period film about the strategic games played by powerful men, Motherless Brooklyn manages to give its femme fatale pivotal things to do.
You'll note, I do say “femme fatale”, and that's because Gugu Mbatha-Raw’s character—a gorgeous and passionate Harlem native, Laura Rose—still firmly falls into the trappings of that moniker. She presents an idealized beacon for the male protagonist, Lionel “Brooklyn” Essrog (Edward Norton), to chase. He does so unerringly and even saves her in classic, damsel-in-distress moments. Still, Norton does deserve praise for crafting her character at all, independent of Jonathan Lethem’s novel upon which the film is based. It feels ironic, in fact, that Norton both regresses the time period of the story, which was originally set in the ‘90s, while advancing its inclusiveness.
Aided by this unmooring from older source material—the book came out in 1999—Rose feels entirely modern. As a graduate from law school, she spends her time fighting for the rights of the disenfranchised alongside activist Gabby Horowitz (Cherry Jones), a character who could only be fashioned after real life icon Jane Jacobs, who went tête-à-tête with unrepentant city planner Moses in the ‘60s. At no point does Rose feel like a stereotypical bombshell; rather, the film depicts her as clever and full of potential, if hemmed in by a patriarchal society that undervalues women.
Horowitz, too, occupies a similar role. She and Rose provide the film’s only instance of passing the Bechdel test, as they vent their frustrations about the mercurial opening hours of a building that’s soon to be condemned by Randolph and his all-powerful “Borough Authority” office.
But even though Rose and Horowitz display ample wits, Motherless Brooklyn still fundamentally traces the shenanigans of powerful men. Between the all-male ensemble that makes up the detective heroes of Essrog’s L&L Agency, to villains like Randolph and his lackeys in office, the two women feel isolated and powerless. Rose plays an outsized role, yes, but she and Horowitz remain outliers in a man’s world.
Race: 3.5/5
GradeMyMovie.com Assessment: 8% of key cast and crew members were POC.
Unlike many films set before the Civil Rights era, Norton effectively includes the stories of Black New Yorkers—a demographic that made up almost 1 in 10 residents in 1950. In addition, by setting several scenes in Harlem, the inclusion of Black supporting characters never feels tokenized or forced.
In Mbatha-Raw’s portrayal of Rose, the film’s most prominent character of color, her biracial identity is preserved in a welcome move that contrasts with so many modern films that continue to erase mixed heritage. Her father figure, Billy “Sarge” Rose (Robert Wisdom who was born to Jamaican parents), also receives a key role and backstory as a veteran, but he does receive an ignominious ending. Finally, in a memorable if minor role, Michael K. Williams delivers yet another arresting performance as trumpet player Wynton Marsalis who bucks one-dimensionality by being neither vilified nor sainted.
Outside of these Black characters, the narrative of Motherless Brooklyn also advocates for tenants of color who are being pushed out of their homes, but does so in broad, sweeping terms. The actual Black and brown residents being spoken about only crop up in background scenes, like at a community hearing or protest rally. Overall, Rose’s character represents the voice of the people, even as she holds very little agency herself. Rather, despite being dragged into the shady dealings around her, the actual power games are played well over her head by Essrog, his colleagues at L&L Agency, and Randolph’s cutthroat Borough Authority—all of them white.
Bonus for Disability: +0.00
Right off the bat, the decision to retain Essrog’s Tourette Syndrome (TS) from the book feels dicey, given Norton’s self-casting into a disabled role. This unease characterizes much of the film’s initial scenes, where audiences feel unsure if Norton’s vocal and motor tics will be used as a shallow prop or if the disability will be given due respect over the course of the film.
On balance, the representation of TS never definitively coalesces as either “good” or “bad”. Norton gives the condition as much respect as he can, humanizing Essrog far beyond his TS while still taking the time to reveal the myriad of ways the disability has affected his daily and emotional life. The condition is treated much like any other facet of his identity, such as growing up in a Catholic orphanage or being mentored by Bruce Willis’s character of Frank Minna. And as unfortunate as it is, disability overall remains vastly underrepresented in media, so the fact of having a lead character with TS who isn’t villainized nor used as a punchline feels like rain on parched earth.
Thus, as a standalone film, this representation of TS succeeds. But art doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Given the context of disability in media, Motherless Brooklyn quickly devolves into another string of tiresome stats: Yet another depiction of TS where someone blurts obscenities, when only about 10% of those diagnosed actually experience the condition. Yet another disabled character with genius-levels of intellect (See: Rain Man from 1988, or ABC’s drama The Good Doctor). Yet another film that uses a disability storyline without giving the real-world community any opportunities to take part—in this case, not even as consultants, as Norton confirmed during the film’s press conference that he only used documentaries and secondhand information to inform his writing, direction, and performance of TS.*
Yet another “gentle” portrayal of a disability, made endearing or palatable for non-disabled audiences, and yet another disabled character who is white, male, straight, and cisgender. Of the last 10 years of popular film, almost two-thirds of disabled roles were white. Nearly three-quarters went to men. Motherless Brooklyn does nothing to ameliorate those skewed industry numbers that disservice women of color or LGBTQ with disabilities.
Mediaversity Grade: B- 3.75/5
Not every movie has to live on in the Criterion Collection. Some flicks are just fun to watch, and Motherless Brooklyn is one of them.
On its portrayal of Tourette Syndrome: Does Norton treat the subject matter respectfully? Yes. But he still reinforces media tropes on disability. Frustratingly, Norton does nothing tangible for the actual TS community beyond using their reality as a narrative vehicle to entertain non-disabled audiences. A simple consultation would have gone a long way in lending credence to his film, perhaps even garnered community buy-in: A win-win for all.
* When asked during the NYFF press conference what kind of research Norton conducted to represent Tourette Syndrome, he mentioned the many documentaries that exist and also highlighted conversations with the late Robin Williams, who apparently knew a sculptor who had TS, while Norton and Williams worked together during the making of Death to Smoochy (2002).