Few films have captured urban alienation and psychological descent with such raw intensity as Taxi Driver. Directed by Martin Scorsese and written by Paul Schrader, this 1976 psychological drama is not just a movie — it’s a cinematic descent into one man’s unraveling mind, a haunting portrayal of loneliness, rage, and fractured identity in the heart of a decaying city. Set in the shadowy underbelly of 1970s New York, the film follows Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro), a discharged U.S. Marine who becomes a night-shift taxi driver. Insomniac, paranoid, and increasingly disconnected from reality, Travis prowls the neon-lit streets filled with crime, sleaze, and moral decay. What begins as detached observation slowly transforms into obsession, as Travis convinces himself that he must “clean up this city” — not with protests, but with a gun.

Bickle’s world is one of isolation. He eats alone, drives alone, and writes in his journal with eerie detachment. His social attempts — from asking out Betsy (Cybill Shepherd), a campaign worker, to bonding with a young prostitute Iris (a 12-year-old Jodie Foster) — only highlight how out of place he is. His mental unraveling is mirrored in Scorsese’s direction: dim lighting, gritty visuals, and a haunting jazz score by Bernard Herrmann that lingers like cigarette smoke. It’s a world where danger simmers beneath every moment, where every smile feels like a mask.

Robert De Niro’s performance is nothing short of iconic. He doesn’t just act — he disappears into Travis Bickle, capturing every twitch, every shift in tone, every subtle spiral into madness. His infamous line — “You talkin’ to me?” — is more than bravado; it’s a desperate plea for identity, for someone to truly see him. Jodie Foster delivers a shocking and powerful performance far beyond her years, while Harvey Keitel and Albert Brooks round out a cast that lives and breathes the grime of the city.

Taxi Driver is not a comforting film. It’s unsettling, provocative, and often hard to watch — but it’s unforgettable. It forces viewers to confront uncomfortable questions: What happens when someone slips through society’s cracks? What does violence mean when born from isolation rather than ideology? And in a city of millions, how does a person become so invisible?