>One’s place of birth leaves an indelible mark on his personality, outlook on life and general disposition, but few of us will ever be so lucky as to see its effect manifested on the silver screen. In the case of director Martin Scorsese, however, it’s currently playing at a theatre near you.

Raised on the streets of New York’s Little Italy, Scorsese nearly chose a life in the priesthood, but opted for NYU film school in the early ’60s. Since then, he has made some of the most seminal American films of the last half-century, ones ranging from religious epics (“Kundun,” “The Last Temptation of Christ”) to period dramas (“The Age of Innocence”) even to regrettable forays into the musical (“New York, New York”).

But Scorsese’s true calling card has always been films grounded in the spirit of his home city. With the exception of Woody Allen, no other New York-bred filmmaker has as deep an understanding of or talent for visually interpreting the aura of New York City.

His films often explore the city’s dark underbelly through the eyes of its downtrodden, abused, neglected and forgotten. But with his latest, “Gangs of New York,” the traditional Scorsesian thematics come full-circle as the director delves into the bloody origins of his native soil.

A moment of reflection on his early urban works will offer a better understanding on this sprawling magnum opus.

“Mean Streets” (1973)

This one might as well have had “of New York” parenthetically in the title as well.

The first of eight pictures with Robert DeNiro in his cast, “Mean Streets” is Scorsese’s largely autobiographical tale of young hoodlums running from sin but never getting any closer to redemption. The film is rife with religious imagery and establishes many of the stylistic and thematic elements of his future efforts — slow-motion action scenes, outcast loners struggling with inner demons, contemporary rock soundtracks and unrelenting, cathartic violence.

“Mean Streets” also paints New York as its own self-contained universe, a place that is both heaven and hell, with the vast majority of people caught somewhere in between.

“Taxi Driver” (1976)

“All the animals come out at night — whores, skunk pussies, buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies, sick, venal. Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets.” So says Travis Bickle (obsessively brought to life by DeNiro) as he cruises the streets of New York in his cab, looking for some sign of hope.

This bit of voice-over ties together the film’s two central ideas — that of New York as a grimy dystopia that forces people into lives of sin, and of Bickle as an unwitting savior sent to save it in a Biblical “rain” of violence. “Taxi Driver” was a defining moment for both Scorsese and DeNiro (it’s the one with the “You talkin’ to me?” scene), and its sanguine climax ranks among the most memorable finales in American cinema.

For a man who grew up around Mafia culture both real and mythical, “Goodfellas” seemed like the next logical step in Scorsese’s career path. Curiously enough, the film chooses to examine the Italian-American and Mafioso lifestyle through the eyes of an Irishman, Henry Hill (Ray Liotta).

This offers fresh insight into the workings of crime and family, loyalty and betrayal, as “Goodfellas” tracks Henry’s rise and fall in the decadence of 1950s Brooklyn. Never mind what it may have already been — New York is here romanticized as a last bastion of lawlessness for European immigrants before it became the cultural melting pot it is today.

“Bringing Out the Dead” (1999)

This much-maligned and oft-misunderstood effort resurrected many of the themes developed throughout “Taxi Driver.” Nicolas Cage assumed the role of the angry loner as an EMT working the graveyard shift in Hell’s Kitchen.

Rather than being haunted by the living evils of the city, Cage’s character cannot forget those whose lives he failed to save. New York becomes a hulking monster bearing down on his will to continue working and save lives — including his own.

Forget all the hype, controversy and nervous anticipation surrounding the film’s long-delayed release. Forget the fact that Leonardo DiCaprio and Scorsese gave back more than half their respective paychecks just to finance its overblown budget.

“Gangs of New York” will make you forget these and any Big Apple-related frivolities and give you an entirely new appreciation of New York’s significance in American cultural history.

DiCaprio (“Catch Me If You Can”) plays Amsterdam Vallon, the son of an Irish priest slain by Bill “The Butcher” Cutting (Daniel Day-Lewis, “The Boxer”) in a war over control of the famed Five Points. Amsterdam vows revenge on his father’s killer, a plot he initiates first by becoming one of Bill’s closest associates, then by betraying his confidence. Even as the Civil War looms and the draft rears its ugly head, Amsterdam and Bill refuse to back down from their respective causes, no matter how insignificant they might seem in their social climate.

Every aspect of “Gangs” is gorgeously produced, with meticulous attention paid to the minutest of details. Scorsese flaunts his production value in several bravura long takes, highlighting the utter anarchy of the bloodiest period in our nation’s history.

Scorsese’s visuals are surpassed only by the presence of Day-Lewis, who reportedly never broke character during the film’s chopped-up production. He sinks his teeth into a role that, on the surface, appears to be an archetypal villain, but Day-Lewis’ nuanced performance makes Amsterdam’s central conflict even murkier and all the more compelling.

Friendship, betrayal, love gained, love lost — it’s all here in epic proportions under the steady hand of a cinematic genius. It is only in the film’s final 20 minutes that Scorsese trips over his own ambition in trying to make the definitive New York film — something he’s been doing for the past 30 years anyway — that prevents “Gangs of New York” from being an unqualified masterpiece.

Grade: A/B