With the hangover of the 90s still fresh in Abel Ferrara’s mind at the time (plus 9/11 being still several months away), May 2001 seemed just as good a moment as any to address the political turmoil that surrounded David Dinkins’ only term as mayor from 1990 to 1994 (or 1989 to 1993, if you prefer). While many have wielded hindsight as a means to vindicate Dinkins’ then-maligned mayorship–leading to the election of Rudy Giuliani (something New York should never be able to live down)–in his era, he was deemed… let’s say, not adequate. At least not in terms of reducing crime and its adjacent drug problem quickly enough. When Dinkins took office in January of ‘90, the rate of crime in New York had escalated dramatically, reaching 2,245 cases of murder in the first year of the Dinkins administration.
This is precisely why Ferrara includes a title card at the beginning of his little loved Christmas movie, ‘R Xmas, to give a frame of reference for the time period. Centered on an upper middle class married couple known only in the credits as The Wife (Drea de Matteo) and The Husband (Lillo Brancato Jr.–forever coasting on A Bronx Tale, but who also cameo’d in The Sopranos–one might say this is an alternate The Sopranos universe, in fact), Ferrara details the quotidian existence of “selling rock to the kids.” It’s clear that The Wife and The Husband aren’t exactly the most discreet or adept in the art, but they do well enough to have a BMW and put their only daughter in private school.
And, just like any set of “normal” parents, they’re très concerned with getting their daughter the “hottest” toy of the year for Christmas, a Party Girl doll. Yes, you read that correctly, and one can certainly appreciate Ferrara’s sense of irony–for there can be no doubt in anybody’s mind that this age inappropriate item would be shilled to little girls (just like Britney Spears was). Particularly in New York, where the kids who grow up there seem to get off on showcasing their accelerated “maturity” (see also: Larry Clark and Harmony Korine’s Kids). Amid a so-called “War on Drugs” that Bush Sr. inherited from Ronald Reagan (carrying Nixon’s torch), the corruption at all levels of law enforcement during this time was, as usual, rampant. With the epicenter being the 30th Precinct in Harlem, cops viewed actual drug dealers like competition to their own profits–posing themselves as dealers selling narcotics. Because, why not? That’s the drug of having power. With The Wife and The Husband living in the largely Dominican neighborhood of Washington Heights, their “selling turf” obviously bleeds into Harlem.
As we catch moments of their dynamics with the “average street person,” it’s clear that The Wife is the one with all the charm and clout, while The Husband is a bit of a buffoon who seems to have chanced on a business empire. And in the midst of this crime-ridden, drug-addled shithole called New York in general and Manhattan in particular, one can’t help but think of the fact that this is supposed to be around the same year Kevin McCallister was mucking about town with his Daddy’s credit card as an underage tourist at a Trump-owned Plaza Hotel. It seems telling of the fact that the “dirty deeds” on the periphery of bourgeois Manhattan were kept in the dark from those who would view New York as a “gay old time”–especially during Christmas, when cliches like ice skating at Rockefeller Center and taking in a performance of the Rockettes abound. At least for “clean” white folk.
But for those above the Upper East Side and below Fourteenth Street, it was as though the 80s never left (though at least that was a small improvement from the late 70s). With the police infiltrating the underworld for their own sordid purposes (later to be referred to as the Dirty Thirty), The Husband is kidnapped by a man making vague monetary demands (played by Ice-T, who can’t say no to a cop role), telling The Wife they’ve been following them for quite some time and know everything about their business. Their daughter. The entire time he’s berating her, he also “compliments” her by saying she seems like a smart, “classy” woman–what the hell is she doing with some dumb Dominican? Indeed, there is ample racism thrown at Dominicans by Ice-T, continuing to give himself away as a corrupt cop. Yet The Wife apparently didn’t get the memo that the cops have been taking over the streets to get a larger slice of the pie for years.
So while Betty Ann Midwest sipped hot cocoa near the ice skating rink (whether in Central Park or at Rockefeller) or Kevin ate a delicious cheese pizza in a limo before hitting up the toy store, it would do well for tourists dreaming about what a magical land the city is–a right proper winter wonderland–especially during Christmas, to remember that below and above White Manhattan (sort of a double entendre with the snow/crack allusion) throbs the heart of an incubus. One that was beaten back with the police convictions that came in 1994, but sprouted again upon the election of Giuliani, the title card that ties up the historical framework of this movie. Giuliani, obviously, took the credit for the reduction in crime that Dinkins laid the groundwork for. Dinkins’ ousting would later be looked upon as a mistake, with many of his reforms–particularly when it came to housing rehabilitation–not given enough time to “set in” and most of Giuliani’s resulting in an all-out sanitization of the town for the sake of people like Betty Ann Midwest and Kevin McCallister. Fittingly, when Dinkins died in November of this year, New York Magazine was quick to point out, “David Dinkins Deserved Better.” The town only appreciates you when you’re gone, after all.
Inheriting the legacy of Ed Koch’s corruptive policies, one of the most progressive notions Dinkins had was to increase the cadet class of the police force–meaning more cops could be trained from the bottom up (in other words, Dinkins knew you couldn’t teach an old, payoff-loving dog new tricks). Instead, Giuliani showed up at the perfect moment to play whipping boy for the cops, when it became patently clear that Dinkins wasn’t going to. Lose the cops in New York as a mayor, and you’ll lose your job. That’s what Dinkins learned. But he was, ultimately, vindicated with “retrospective respect” (the same can probably not be said of ‘R Xmas as a movie). Meanwhile, The Wife and The Husband–in a Christmas miracle–decide to go straight. A crime-free New York is no place for a criminal to make a living, in the end.
