December 7, 2023 | ARTS AND ENTERTAINMENT | By Sophia Lisco
I hopped off the plane at LAG (LaGuardia Airport) with a bag and my phone in hand.
As I craned my neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of the New York City skyline, I tried to direct my cab driver to the Brooklyn brownstone I’d only seen pictures of. In the next few weeks during my Block away, I’d be kept awake by wailing sirens, forced to wade through a horde of rats, yelled at on the street and spit on in the subway. This was definitely not a Colorado Springs party.
Our New York film and politics class covered cinematic history through films that breathed life and personality into the bustling streets and avenues which I would come to know. In a move away from conventional New York City movies (think “Taxi Driver” and “Dog Day Afternoon”), we focused on city movies that were lesser known (at least by me). Screenings of films like “The Pawnbroker” and Andy Warhol’s “Blowjob” (which is exactly what you think it is) made up much of our class content. There is one film, however, that a survey of New York films simply cannot avoid.
“Do The Right Thing” is a film class staple. Since high school, I’ve probably watched or discussed it in five different classrooms. Eight city blocks from our class house in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, I stood in the place where it was filmed and felt the pulse of an entire neighborhood within the boundaries of two adjacent streets along Stuyvesant Avenue.
A few days later, our class took a trip to the Brooklyn Museum to visit the Spike Lee installation on display where we would see real props from films like “Do the Right Thing,” “Malcolm X” and “BlacKkKlansman,” among his collection of valuable pop culture artifacts. Before our group tour started, I wandered into the gift shop in search of a souvenir that would encapsulate my time in Brooklyn and my affection for Spike Lee as a filmmaker. I weaved my way between people, through the aisles, hoping that the perfect t-shirt would manifest itself before I had to leave.
As I stood there rifling through the t-shirts and memorabilia, I was only three feet away from the man himself, Spike Lee, in the flesh – an important detail that, unfortunately, went unnoticed by me until minutes later when I watched him leave the building. Shock, bewilderment and disbelief all feel like understatements as I try to explain what I felt in that moment. It was then (or shortly thereafter, when my heart rate started to slow down) that it all started to click for me, the magic of being in New York – I realized: it’s all happening here.
It’s all happening, all the time, and it’s just so cinematic. To wake up in the morning and walk across the street to the coffee shop, or to the bagel place, or down to the bodega to grab the best “BEC” (New York slang for bacon, egg and cheese bagel) you’ll ever have is to brush shoulders with some of the world’s most talented minds and hardest workers.
The time I spent in New York, I was able to spend with my eyes peeled for Taylor Swift (or at least the restaurant she went to last night), spotting locations used in my favorite movies, scoring discounted front row tickets to a Broadway show, and seeing Jimmy Page perform live for the first time in a decade. It’s all happening here. Forget “Do the Right Thing,” New York City is every movie, every piece of art that ever has been and ever will be made.
Before going to New York, I was mentally trapped in the classic conundrum of wanting to commit to a creative field but stopping myself out of fear of failure, rejection and the (perceived) impossibility of a steady stream of income. Spending three weeks in a big city, surrounded by people from all walks of life who came there to follow their dreams, is exactly what I needed. To anyone else who feels hesitant to take the leap (or just declare a major), I encourage you to visit New York City, to spend some time getting to know the city and then, maybe, the improbable will feel a little more possible.