At the time of my writing this, Martin Scorsese’s latest picture, Killers of the Flower Moon, is roughly three months away from release. Early buzz for the film ranges from “Scorsese’s masterpiece” to “a fantastic film, if a little too long”. Between the collaborations (Scorsese, De Niro and DiCaprio, not to mention Lily Gladstone), and my own personal interest in the story (I read the book, I’m from Oklahoma, and I have an unhealthy obsession with Native American history and culture), it’s preemptively my most-anticipated release of the year. What better time, then, to take a deep dive into Scorsese’s hefty filmography? This is an odd starting point, considering what Scorsese’s famous for, but it was available on The Criterion Channel for the month of July. So, here it is: Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore.

Martin Scorsese’s fourth feature film puts the director into uncharted waters of his oeuvre: the romantic comedy. Apparently, this film wasn’t even on Scorsese’s radar at the time. Ellen Burstyn, who plays the titular Alice, and won an Academy Award for Best Actress to show for it, received a copy of the script from her agent after being tasked with finding a complicated woman for her to play. After reading the script, she went on the hunt for a young, visionary director to helm it. It was Scorsese’s previous film, Mean Streets, that was garnering all the buzz at the time, and after viewing a screening, Burstyn decided he was the man for the job. Warner Brothers agreed, and so began Scorsese’s journey into major studio filmmaking.

Alice is a stay-at-home mom caught between her needy and verbally abusive husband and her preteen boy who is discovering that “brat” is a viable personality. Alice doesn’t have to keep the peace very long when her husband dies in a work-related accident. His death, however, leaves Alice and her son without any prospects or security, so they hit the road, heading towards California, so she can realize her dream of being a singer – a dream that was completely derailed by married life.

Her financial straits demand they stop in Phoenix to earn enough money to make the rest of their trip. Initially, she can only get work as a waitress, but through her determination, she is able to secure a job as a lounge singer. She captures the heart of the young cowboy, Ben (played by a young Harvey Keitel), and he sweeps her up into a whirlwind romance that is going great until she discovers he’s also abusive. Oh, and also, he’s married. Yikes! In the middle of a confrontation between her, Ben, and Ben’s wife, Alice decides it’s time to continue to Monterey. They get as far as Tucson before they are forced to stop again.

In Tucson, Alice gains employment as a waitress at Mel’s diner, working alongside the outspoken, headstrong Flo, and timid-to-the-point-of-collapse Vera. The chaos in the diner leads to some of the funniest scenes in the film, especially when Vera’s involved. Alice also meets a divorced rancher, David (Kris Kristofferson), and they fall in love. “Oh, sweet mystery of life, at last I’ve found you!” It’s days of wine and roses until David finally does the seemingly unforgiveable: he spanks Alice’s son. Trust me, over the course of the movie, I spent more time with Alice’s son than David did, and he’s lucky a spanking is all he got. When he runs away after his reprimanding, Alice frantically searches all of Tucson for him, determined to find him and get him to Monterey. However, when she finds her son, they have a heart-to-heart, and Alice realizes that she’s happy in Tucson with David, and so is her son, so they make the decision to stay.

The script and Burstyn’s feminist take on the character makes Scorsese an interesting choice when considering modern criticism of his filmography (i.e. the sidelining of his female characters). I suspect her decision to choose a man over her dreams won’t sit as well with the most recent wave of feminists as maybe it did in the 70s. However, I think one of the things this movie does well is show growth in Alice’s character. At the beginning, she doesn’t have a choice in the direction of her own life, or at least she doesn’t believe she does, but at the end of the film, it’s completely her decision to stay or go. The other thing this movie does well is lean into the shmaltzy look and feel of older soap operas and 1940s melodramas. It gives the movie character and a charm that it’s mostly lacking.

This brings me to my biggest criticism of the film: it’s surprisingly bland. Without its color and occasional cutesy attitude, I doubt I would have made it to the end. Ellen Burstyn does great, but it’s far from her best performance (I suspect the Academy gave her the award for this film because they realized their mistake in not giving it to her for The Exorcist), and with the exception of Flo and Vera, all the other actors are wooden. I’ve never considered Kris Kristofferson a good actor and he doesn’t change my mind here. The kid is the most frustrating part of the entire film, though that may not be the actor’s fault. The character is insufferable, and I have never wished for a worse end to a kid in a movie since Mildred Pierce.

In the end, the movie is passable, and cute enough to give a look if you have the time, but don’t go out of your way to make time for it unless you’re doing a Scorsese marathon like I am. Mean Streets was a glimpse of what Scorsese could become, but Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore is someone else’s movie tossed into his lap.