Loneliness, a byproduct of marginalization that these two characters endure, oozes out of Midnight Cowboy’s every single frame, brilliantly filmed by first-time cinematographer Adam Holender—recommended to Schlesinger by Roman Polanski—whose camera captures the “gritty and realistic” microcosm that is the underbelly of NYC in the 1960s. The extent of the characters’ poverty is not an inconvenience conveyed through conversation or the occasional monologue, but is rather a given showcased by a number of situations depicting the two friends’ day-to-day lives. Both are highly delusional individuals—with Joe fantasizing about succeeding as a hustler and Rizzo daydreaming about a life in the Florida sun—and for good reason. Were it not for their delusions of a bright future that lurks just around the corner, slightly out of reach but still attainable, they would have given up on life a long time ago. It is their delusions that help keep the crippling feeling of loneliness at bay, enabling them to hold on to their sanity and their will to live. This kind of visceral portrayal is what enables Midnight Cowboy to be a truly triumphant piece of cinema, giving us one of the most heart-wrenching, raw and deeply empathetic depictions of homelessness we never asked for, but obviously badly needed. In many films, poverty is portrayed as an obstacle to overcome, a circumstance to be delivered from, a tribulation that is often a necessity if a protagonist is to be propelled into the life he is truly meant to live. But in Schlesinger’s movie, there is no “before” and “after.” In Schlesinger’s movie, the tribulation that is extreme poverty does not constitute the first plot point, but rather the entirety of the plot. In Schlesinger’s movie, there is no deliverance and no catharsis, just different variations and degrees of the status quo. We are given a glimpse into the hidden underworld of New York City in the 1960s (and any city of the world in any given decade, with homelessness being an occurrence as old as time), one which is very easy to shy away from and turn a blind eye to when walking the busy streets in pursuit of one’s own daily mission. But Midnight Cowboy makes it impossible for us to look away and unapologetically faces us with the facets of a homeless person’s experience we would rather not face, for they possess the power to reflect back to us our own fears regarding lack, loss and loneliness. What they also hold is the key to unlocking both our deepest gratitude for the lives we take for granted, and our endless capacity for feeling empathy, the state which enables us to take another human being as part of ourselves and walk a mile in their shoes, regardless of the fact that that person is but a fictional character on a silver screen.