Why Doesn’t Martin Scorsese Wear His Glasses Anymore?

An investigation.

Martin Scorsese: why?

Last week, like any sane person, the only thing on my agenda was devouring Pretend It’s a City. Martin Scorsese presents: Fran Lebowitz, in seven acts. (“Acts,” meaning 30 minute soundbites of crotchety delights.) Scorsese follows Lebowitz as she stomps around the Queens Museum’s Panorama, through the public library, stalks through Grand Central station, mutters impatiently in the backseat of cabs. Watching these episodes made me nostalgic for everything I love about New York: the “hustle and bustle,” yes, but also the many things there are to complain about here. And how fun it is to do that complaining! And how you’ll always find a willing ear — and if you don’t find one on this street, then maybe the next one. It’s almost as good as Public Speaking, Scorsese’s doc on Lebowitz from 2010 that’s an intravenous line of giddy meanness.  Pretend It’s a City is an automatic press-play any week — Scorsese! Lebowitz! Manhattan in the fall, in all her blustery glory! — b…