MOVIE REVIEW : ‘Street’ Mixes Energy, Pathos

The urban folklore of Italian-American neighborhoods has given rise to so many films, from Scorsese on down, that you might think there’s nothing left to make a movie about. Part of the reason for this feeling, of course, is that so many of these films filch shamelessly from each other.

“29th Street” (selected theaters) follows many of the predictable urban folklore patterns but George Gallo, who wrote the script and makes his directorial debut, attempts to turn the predictability into a plus. The blustery love-hate between hand-waving family members carries an echo: It’s cliche posing as hallowed truth.

At the same time, there’s a new angle, or at least a new/old angle, at work here. The film’s central character, Frank Pesce Jr. (Anthony LaPaglia), is a mopey, somewhat characterless fellow who is doomed to be lucky. The film flashes back from the 1976 New York State Lottery drawing in Madison Square Garden, which Frank wins. He’s unaccountably furious; in flashback, we find out why.

Frank’s father (Danny Aiello) is doomed to be unlucky. He’s a compulsive loser, and this colors his relationship with his son. The film (rated R for language) covers a lot of ground--from 1948 to 1976--but the central conflict between father and son remains essentially the same, at least until near the end. It’s a comic burlesque about how families try to reconcile love and anger without flying apart.

The film’s fable-like aspects are propped up by the fact that large chunks of Frank Jr.’s story are apparently true. (The real Frank Pesce Jr. shows up in the film playing his older brother Vito.) When, for example, Frank is stabbed by his girlfriend’s irate brother, the wound reveals a tumor; the doctors catch it in time. When, during the Vietnam War, he shows up at the draft board, the dopey innocence of his interview convinces the sergeant he’s stunted. He escapes the war.

Frank wanders through his existence in a charmed state, but his life is a mess anyway. (That’s the film’s funniest and saddest joke.) Gallo throws a lot of bathos into the stew, along with a healthy heaping of Capracorn . Despite the blustery energy, nothing in this film seems like it actually happened, and that may be intentional. It’s fable-making in the service of a “higher” truth, which is what Capra was always trying for. But the fairy-tale aspects of the story don’t match up with the attempts at kitchen-sink realism. It’s a forced fable, enthusiastically mounted.

By making Frank Jr. such a colorless and acted-upon character, the film comes to rest inordinately on Frank Sr. Aiello isn’t bad in the part; he brings out the flourish in his character’s pent-up resentments. But Aiello is so familiar in this setting that after awhile what he does begins to seem generic.

The performers have been encouraged to out-act and out-yell each other, as if decibel level were the same thing as passion. But the best moments in the film are the quiet ones, like the wordless moment when Frank Sr., back from the hospital after a heart attack, catches his wife’s eye and segues into the kitchen for some hanky-panky. (As the wife, Lainie Kazan gives a rich comic performance, the film’s best.)

“29th Street” is easier to take than it ought to be because, even when it’s hokey and overblown--in other words, most of the time--it still has a generosity of spirit. Gallo doesn’t yet have the skills to achieve the kind of “It’s a Wonderful Life”-style magical realism that was clearly his intention here, but he has a genuine fondness for his actors, and some of that fondness lights up the screen. You can feel him pulling out the stops, trying for a real crowd-pleaser. He wants Frank Jr.’s luck to hold out.

‘29th Street’

Danny Aiello: Frank Pesce Sr.

Anthony LaPaglia: Frank Pesce Jr.

Lainie Kazan: Mrs. Pesce

Frank Pesce: Vito Pesce

A 20th Century Fox release of a David Permut production. Director George Gallo. Producer David Permut. Executive producer Jerry Baerwitz. Screenplay Gallo, based on a story by Frank Pesce and James Franciscus. Cinematographer Steven Fierberg. Editor Kaja Fehr. Costumes Peggy Farrell. Music William Olvis. Production design Robert Ziembicki. Sound Steve Aaron. Running time: 1 hour, 41 minutes.

MPAA-rated R (language).