‘It’s very hard to talk to a dead person. I have nothing in common.’
Elaine May’s 1976 film Mikey and Nicky was released during an interesting era in Hollywood film-making and served as a response to much of what came before it. The film centers on a member of the mob, Nicky, who is hiding out in a hotel room after learning that he has been sold out and that a hit is out on him. He calls his childhood best friend, Mikey, to help him – not knowing that Mikey is the one who sold him out – and the two spend a night in bars, cinemas, and the back alleys of Philadelphia.
The film was made during a surge of gangster films in the wake of the success of The Godfather (1972) and in the period immediately after the cessation of the infamous Hays Code, which censored violence and sexual references in Hollywood films. May, who wrote and directed the film, aims to provide a different take on the gangster genre. Mikey and Nicky serves as a sobering epilogue to films like The Godfather, detailing the lives not of the glamorous, suave mafia leaders, but of the people who are sacrificed in making those leaders great.
The film is unique for its time (and, arguably, for the entire genre) in its portrayal of women and the ways in which they are affected by the actions and mentalities of film gangsters. Most gangster films, especially in this era, feature few female characters (one or two at most), and these characters are often hypersexualized and/or victims of sexual violence. May does not change that aspect of the genre, but in her film the female characters have voices and reactions to what has happened to them. In one scene, Nicky visits a woman with whom he has a child, only to be surprised when the woman is angry with him, telling him he has not taken any responsibility with the child or treated her with any respect. Nicky’s actions are mirrored in most gangster films of the era, but this film is one of very few in which the woman is able to articulate a response to the way she has been treated and is not ridiculed or dismissed for it. Nicky brushes off her complaints, but we can see that they resonate with Mikey, who does not dismiss or make fun of her. At multiple points in the film Mikey leaves to call his wife and tell her where he is, something which Nicky find ridiculous but which Mikey takes seriously. Mikey’s regard for his wife, as little of it as we are shown onscreen, is clearly respected by the film and calls into question the habits of many other characters from similar films. In a genre which is so focused on violence, where violence against women is tangential, brushed aside, or not taken seriously, May’s film shows alternatives to the many forms of violence inflicted on women living in close relation to gangs, through her depiction not only of some healthier treatment of women but also through her condemnation of the sexual violence and mistreatment which is rampant in gangster films.
The crux of the film lies in Mikey’s struggle with inner peace and morality. He and Nicky grew up together, and became part of each other’s family. Despite this shared history, Mikey sells Nicky out to buoy his own status in the mob. Most of the film depicts Mikey’s struggle with the decision he has made as Nicky insists on dragging his friend from location to location around Philadelphia. Nicky’s spontaneous movement makes it difficult for the hitman following the pair to locate them, and Mikey’s begrudging willingness to follow Nicky around the city prolongs his friend’s life. Mikey allows himself to be dragged by Nicky partially because he knows this erratic movement will save him, but at the same time he does nothing to stop the events that he himself has put into motion. Mikey’s passivity ruins his sense of inner peace and morality, and his betrayal even more so. Nicky, as the two characters discuss in the film, is part of Mikey’s family, making Mikey’s betrayal all the more destructive to his sense of morality. Rebecca Alter writes that ‘the brotherly betrayal is Old Testament stuff, and Mikey’s already told Nicky he’s forgotten his Kaddish’. She goes on to note that the film’s ending ‘tears through you like a stomach ulcer’ in much the same way that Mikey’s internal sense of peace is torn apart. Mikey’s actions serve as a counterpoint to the guiltless and smooth violence of the gangster genre and interrogates the price of violence and of power struggles within the organization.
Throughout this film, the audience is encouraged to consider not the Vito Corleones, the Bugsy Malones, or the Al Capones, but the people much farther down the pecking order of the mafia organization – the bookies, the errand boys, and the people with absolutely no power in the system at all: namely, the women and children. In a genre as violent as the gangster film, this shift in perspective is the equivalent in a war film of seeing not the generals but of those young men often referred to as ‘cannon fodder’. Mikey and Nicky asks its audience not to romanticize the violence, misogyny, and cruelty of the mob, but to view with empathy and consider why we love to watch these violent films. Rather like anti-war films, which push back against the kinds of storytelling and aesthetics that glorify war, Elaine May persuades us that glorifying the cruelty and misogyny of criminal organizations allows these problems to continue, not just in the mobs they depict but in our own lives as well.
What do you think?
- Do depictions of violence help us to think about peaceful alternatives? Just how ‘peace-promoting’ are films which apply a critical lens to war or violence?
- What kinds of violence and peace does this film get viewers thinking about? And how translatable are they to the ‘real’ world?
- Does this film challenge assumptions about who we might categorise as victims of violence, and how we feel towards them?
- How much agency do its characters seem to have in securing inner peace, post-conflict peace, or respite from wider gang violence? And what lessons might we take from that?
If you enjoyed this item in our museum…
You might also enjoy Oseh Shalom, To Be or Not to Be (1942), Generation Peace and Art and Peace in the Head.
Arden Henley, December 2022