One of the durable clichés of film criticism is the observation that “the city is like another character in the movie.” While I don’t have the data to prove it, my strong suspicion is that this has been said more about New York than any other city.

But it’s not quite right. Really, New York is a movie star, with Paris as its only serious rival among the world’s great metropolises. Its charisma is that of an old-fashioned screen idol, like Bette Davis, Cary Grant or Sidney Poitier. However many different faces the city might present to the camera — dressed up or roughed up, gritty or glamorous, tragic or madcap — it remains always and unmistakably itself.

And like any human movie star worth talking about, New York off screen can be difficult as well as charming. It’s seductive, demanding, elusive and impossible to separate from its image. Perpetually on, perpetually engrossed in the theater of its existence.