ON THE BOWERY
Scen.: Richard Bagley, Mark Sufrin, Lionel Rogosin; F.: Richard Bagley. M.: Carl Lerner. Mus.: Charles Mills. Int.: Ray Salyer, Gorman Hendricks, Frank Matthews, George L. Bolton (se stessi). Prod.: Lionel Rogosin. DCP. D.: 66’. Bn.
Film Notes
But the great surprise, the revelation of the Seventh Festival of Documentary and Short Films [Venice] has been On the Bowery, a realist narrative film directed by Lionel Rogosin, a young director of notable talents. Here, the camerawork, in the hands of Richard Bagley (the director of The Vigil), does not yield to the temptations of stylization. Rogosin uses it to observe without self-conscious artistry, implacably, without fear of human ugliness, this neighbourhood of New York hovels, the cobbles scattered with old papers and rotting refuse, on which vegetate alcoholics without hope, relics of humanity. […] It is a courageous film, with fine photography, confident direction, and good editing.
Lotte H. Eisner, Un uomo sulla Bowery, “Cinema Nuovo”, no. 89, 10 September 1956
On the Bowery is perhaps the finest American documentary movie of the 1950s. Lionel Rogosin, like his master, Robert Flaherty, spent his first six months on the Bowery without a camera, to immerse himself in its ways and gain acceptance in New York’s ghetto. Based on his observations, Rogosin constructed a minimalistic fiction film (three days in the life of a young unemployed man plunged into this hell, who will perhaps pull himself out) using actors who were amateurs found on the street. The film’s irrevocable condemnation is directed at a society that tolerates such misery. Yet Rogosin refuses to preach and refrains from passing judgment. Intent on depicting reality, he scrutinises faces, catches gestures on the fly and records bodies in the inhospitable surroundings. In the end, the triumph is the director’s unshakeable confidence in the humanity of his characters, his respect for their wounded dignity and his genuine fondness for them, which never hinders his lucidity. […]
John Cassavetes, clearly well-placed to comment, described Rogosin in a 1969 interview as “probably the greatest documentary filmmaker of all time”. Watching the latter’s movies again today, one is inclined to believe him, above all recognise that Rogosin represents the missing link between Flaherty’s fictionalised documentary and Cassavetes’ documentarised fiction.
Jean-Pierre Berthomé, Lionel Rogosin. La caméra comme arme de combat, “Positif ”, no. 610, December 2011