For those of us who have not seen Parts 1 and 2 of HBO's Taxicab Confessions, Part 3 will make them want to check out what they have missed. Part 3 introduces us to a cast of characters who have fascinating stories to tell - a lot of them requiring the suspension of disbelief. The man with a bipolar girlfriend, a prostitute at peace with her profession and her connection with God, a cop whose never ending nightmares don't allow him to sleep or find love. Every rider has a story with the hint of an epic if explored deeper - a potential novel and or a film. Inside the NYC cab is the a microcosm of the entire world.
From the streets and sidewalks of the melting pot that the city is, people from all walks of life in their exuberant diversity enter the cocoon of a taxicab. Sometimes, they have things on their mind that they want to tell a perfect stranger like the cab-driver. Things that they may have held back in other circumstances in the company of friends and acquaintances.
Inside the cab, in the equivalent of a confessional. The rider and the cabbie will never meet again, there will be no trace of their encounter left once the fare has been paid. Watching Taxicab Confessions is like being a fly on the wall of the bars in Paris Hemingway frequented; the vignettes from the lives of random New Yorkers could very well create the Moveable Feast of our times.
From the streets and sidewalks of the melting pot that the city is, people from all walks of life in their exuberant diversity enter the cocoon of a taxicab. Sometimes, they have things on their mind that they want to tell a perfect stranger like the cab-driver. Things that they may have held back in other circumstances in the company of friends and acquaintances.
Inside the cab, in the equivalent of a confessional. The rider and the cabbie will never meet again, there will be no trace of their encounter left once the fare has been paid. Watching Taxicab Confessions is like being a fly on the wall of the bars in Paris Hemingway frequented; the vignettes from the lives of random New Yorkers could very well create the Moveable Feast of our times.
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