Who's That Knocking at My Door, Martin Scorsese's first feature film, offers a concrete comparison with Reservoir Dogs: the characters speak from a culture of films and songs that shapes the way they present themselves to others. Harvey Keitel appears in both titles, although J. R. and Mr. White occupy very different positions within their respective stories.
Tarantino's admiration for that debut is documented in his conversation with Scorsese for DGA Quarterly in 2019. There he highlighted the ferry scene in which Keitel's character talks about The Searchers. That acknowledgement makes it possible to start from an identifiable moment without reducing the relationship between the directors to the general label of gangster cinema.
Songs add another point of contact. Scorsese has explained their importance in imagining scenes from everyday experiences. In Tarantino, well-known recordings can give rhythm to an introduction or accompany actions that radically alter their effect. Examining these functions, together with the work of the edit, makes it possible to assess both the closeness between the films and their differences.
A specific admiration: the ferry conversation
In "Wise Guys", the conversation published by DGA Quarterly in autumn 2019, Tarantino named his favourite scene in Who's That Knocking at My Door as the dialogue about The Searchers on the Staten Island ferry. It is a declaration of admiration for that moment; the conversation does not attribute to the film the specific origin of the songs or the cuts in Reservoir Dogs.
The AFI Catalog identifies Scorsese as director and screenwriter, Keitel as J. R., Zina Bethune as the girl and Thelma Schoonmaker as editor. It also specifies the difference between two usual dates: the film was shown as I Call First at the Chicago festival in November 1967 and reached cinemas there under its better-known title in March 1969.
The ferry conversation is part of J. R.'s meeting with the girl. Talking about films offers a way to get close to her and to show enthusiasm for something he considers important. The reference helps to characterise the speaker: how much space he takes up, what he hopes to share and which traits of his personality emerge when he explains a film.
That interest in Martin Scorsese's cinema helps to recognise an affinity with Tarantino's interlocutors. In Reservoir Dogs, commenting on a song also makes it possible to display confidence and propose an interpretation that others may accept or challenge. The group situation changes the function of conversation: several voices compete to intervene and to steer the topic.
Keitel provides a visible continuity between the casts, but the behaviour of his characters marks a difference. J. R. introduces himself to someone he has just met; White acts within a gang and has to maintain a position in front of his companions. Verbal ease has different consequences depending on whether it is used in a personal approach or in a relationship between criminals.
Songs as a starting point for a scene
In the public text of "The Power of Music", his MasterClass lesson, Scorsese links records, radio and street music with the way he imagines scenes. He mentions El Watusi, by Ray Barretto, as a decisive moment in shaping his first feature film. His explanation presents music as a constructive impulse, associated with memories and situations.
For that reason, talking only about a rock influence leaves part of the issue out. What matters is what a recording does within the film: it can provide duration, pulse or familiarity that the image makes use of. The sound brings its own energy, and the edit decides how to relate it to the behaviour being shown.
Reservoir Dogs makes it possible to distinguish two uses clearly. The opening credits walk gains unity through Little Green Bag; the song helps present the men as a group. In the warehouse, Stuck in the Middle with You comes through the radio and accompanies Mr. Blonde. Here the listening also belongs to the character and forms part of his behaviour.
The comparison with Scorsese's explanation is productive because it shifts attention away from the chosen title towards its function. A recording can organise the perception of movement or take part in the action. Its cinematic meaning depends on what happens while it plays, on who is listening and on how the framing brings the viewer closer to that experience.
Editing changes the relationship between music and behaviour
The rhythm of a film is not explained only by how quickly the shot changes. A cut can sustain an energy already established or interrupt it to force us to look differently. The duration of a conversation and the moment of leaving it matter as much as the number of images it contains.
In the same 2019 conversation, Scorsese recalled that learning to edit included discovering that a shot could take on another meaning by being moved to a different place. That observation helps to sharpen the comparison: the work of editing affects the meaning of an image, as well as adjusting the speed at which we see it.
In Reservoir Dogs, the move from the musical opening credits to Orange, injured, inside the car provides a precise example. The group's introduction gives way to a physical urgency, dominated by the injured man's suffering and White's responses. The shift immediately alters the viewer's relationship with those men and with the confidence conveyed by their earlier appearance.
The ferry scene highlights another possibility: devoting time to the way a character speaks allows us to know him through a cultural preference. The comparison therefore brings together two different editing decisions, lingering on an interaction and shifting register abruptly. Both shape our relationship with the characters; understanding how they work requires attention to what each scene makes last and to the moment when it chooses to move on to something else.
The ferry scene provides a particularly useful entry point into this comparison because it turns a cinematic preference into behaviour. The focus is on the person speaking, on her interlocutor and on the relationship he is trying to establish. Recognising the title mentioned adds another layer of meaning, but the scene also allows us to observe enthusiasm, initiative and a way of occupying the conversation.
The same is true of the songs. Knowing which recording is playing helps identify it; understanding its function requires relating it to a specific action. The musical rhythm can unite an introduction, while a listening experience within the story shows something about the person who chooses to accompany themselves with that music. The edit determines how long that relationship lasts and what happens when it is interrupted.
Seeing both debuts through these decisions makes it possible to appreciate an affinity that extends to conversation and sound without confusing their stories. The characters express themselves through cultural references, but the film transforms those references through context, duration and the presence of the other person. That is where a more precise comparison emerges than the simple coincidence of an actor or a collection of songs.