Tony understands instinctively that, to what Confucius called the junzi, the superior man, honor, recognition, and right conduct mean everything, money nothing.

Most memorably, Tony's strong sense of natural justice and fair play lifts him above his gang's ethnic squabbling with the Puerto Ricans, prompting him to fierce anger when he and Stephanie are awarded a dance prize unfairly, out of flagrant ethnic favoritism. He walks over to the Puerto Rican couple and thrusts the prize trophy and cash envelope into their hands — "Congratulations! I'd like to give you this, and I'd like to give you that, because I think you deserve it, all right?" — then walks right out of the dance hall, fuming.

Tony's character includes a proper component of manly tenderness, too. Driving Stephanie back from Manhattan, they have a shouting match. Stephanie, wounded by his words, breaks down and cries. Tony repents at once, and does his best to soothe and heal: "It's all right ... Don't worry about nothin'." His reward at last is Stephanie's first tentative kiss, on his cheek.

Everybody is drawn to this instinctive decency. To be a natural gentleman like this is to be a natural leader. Tony controls his little clique effortlessly, directing their activities ("We ain't droppin' nothin' till I say so"), trying to prompt them to his own innate standards of manliness, scolding them for their pill popping ("Can't you guys get off on dancin'?"), instructing Annette in the rudiments of female honor: "That's the thing a girl's gotta decide early on. You gotta decide whether you're gonna be a nice girl or a c***."

With that solid moral framework to support him, Tony is acquiring wisdom rapidly. He has a long way to go, to be sure, but you don't doubt he'll get there. Did Bobby C kill himself? the investigating cop asks. Tony: "There's ways of killin' yourself without killin' yourself." Indeed there are, Tony — many, many ways.

Labels: film