I wouldn't say that What's a Nice Girl Like You Doing in a Place Like This? is one of Scorsese's best short films, but it shows his earliest roots as a filmmaker as being inventive and very wacky ones indeed. His editing style here with Robert Hunsicker completely abandons any reason for convention and just bounces around somewhere in that sweet, strange realm between the avant garde and a cartoon. It deals with a man who basically has trouble sleeping, eating, and most of all writing, but then he meets a girl, but that too doesn't work out too well. There's no real 'plot' at all to describe, as Scorsese is not in the frame of mind here to go by one. It's got that style of improv-comedy that is almost like someone from the beats, only working with a more visual aesthetic here.
Sometimes its just a little too 'hip' for its own good, and the signs of first-time amateur hour almost comes into frame. But it's still a Scorsese picture all the way, with one shot that pans around the guy sitting down seeming to recall other shots in his oeuvre. Maybe the funniest part of the film though is, in the narration, how the guy keeps on referring to 'his friend(s)', to which Scorsese repeatedly cuts back to this older guy in sunglasses, who says his lines perfectly dead-pan. I was very glad to see it, even if- of course- it's not flawless, far from it. It's a quickie made on the fly, but it's got some good grit to it, and even a little musical number thrown in (the one time in the film where it actually doesn't cut TOO crazily from one spot to the next, one of the film's odd charms).
Sometimes its just a little too 'hip' for its own good, and the signs of first-time amateur hour almost comes into frame. But it's still a Scorsese picture all the way, with one shot that pans around the guy sitting down seeming to recall other shots in his oeuvre. Maybe the funniest part of the film though is, in the narration, how the guy keeps on referring to 'his friend(s)', to which Scorsese repeatedly cuts back to this older guy in sunglasses, who says his lines perfectly dead-pan. I was very glad to see it, even if- of course- it's not flawless, far from it. It's a quickie made on the fly, but it's got some good grit to it, and even a little musical number thrown in (the one time in the film where it actually doesn't cut TOO crazily from one spot to the next, one of the film's odd charms).
