Richard Brody think so, and he (kinda sorta) make a case for such a possibility in his description of Pola Rapaport’s 1991 film BROKEN MEAT, about NewYork city as seen through the eyes, voice and antics of poet/ne’er-do-well Alan Granville.

What Brody doesn’t address is whether the possibility for such beings as Granville to exist has been
diminished (if not utterly “broken”) by the events of the past thirty years, as the relentless gentrification of NYC has slowly but systematically slipped away the tendons of life support for those folk who define their creativity as literally living on the edge.

https://www.newyorker.com/culture/the-front-row/broken-meat-reviewed-an-astonishing-dual-portrait-of-a-poet-and-his-city

The Metrograph’s on-line streaming service will screen BROKEN MEAT starting today. Those subscribed to it may want to tune in and determine if this work has transcended time or if it has become an exercise in nostalgia. As you’d expect for a wirk being compared with film noir, BROKEN MEAT was shot in a particularly scruffy black and white.