The earliest cinematic portrayals of Central Park were almost always romantic in nature. Whether it was the backdrop for joyous singing and dancing, as in “On the Town”, or the setting for sentimental love stories, such as “Portrait of Jennie”, the park was seen as either a place of populist energy or quiet romance. It is interesting to note that before the war, and for the first few years after, there are no movies that use Central Park as anything but a positive locale, one that resonates with the energy and romance of Manhattan. It's not really until the early seventies that movies, usually comedies, dramatize the darker aspects of the park. It seems that in the middle sixties the park developed several different personalities, especially in the eyes of movie makers. Since then the Park has been generally characterized in movies in one of three ways. First it is seen as a romantic place, almost magical, a metaphor for all the beautiful, creative, fantastic things the city represents to so many people who love it. Secondly it is portrayed as a dark, dangerous and foreboding place, a symbol of urban decay and the decline of civilized society in the second half of the century. Lastly it is used simply as a park, a useful field of recreation and contemplation, simply the lungs of the city.

One example of Central Park in its romantic role would be “The World of Henry Orient”, 1964, directed by George Roy Hill. In this movie the park is seen in autumn, a cheerful, pretty landscape that provides the back drop for the afternoon frolics of two young girls, played by Tippy Walker and Merrie Spaeth. It's the scene of a day long fantasy, chasing over and under bridges, around lakes and statues that bonds the two together. It is also the trysting place of Peter Sellers and Paula Prentiss, which the girls discover to Seller’s everlasting chagrin. Later in the movie, when Spaeth is searching for her missing friend, we see her wondering through a snow covered park, a bleak and barren landscape, all grey frost and frozen ground. But even in this wintry evocation the park is not seen as a threatening place. It is not yet dangerous and unforgiving of intruders.

The most romantic view of the park is without doubt the found in the movie adaptation of the musical “Hair”, 1980, directed by Milos Forman. The film opens with an extended version of the song Aquarius that has Twyla Tharp choreographed dancers writhing about the lush autumn landscape along with police horses that prance in step to the music. It is a wild and joyful place filled with hippies and hope. It is their home, a place filled with promise and life, counter culture experimentation and an exuberant challenge to the concrete canyon dwellers that surround it. It is, of course, wildly simplistic and naive, but still it seduces you into thinking that even if it wasn't exactly like that it should have been. For that matter it convinces you that that is the way it should still be. There are long shots that include the leafy vistas of the fall in New York and upwardly angled cameras that frame each character against the skyline. This is place you wanted to come to when you first heard about New York. It’s a place where people dance and sing and experience life vividly and viscerally. The place you never quite found, the one you still dream about.

In terms of pure fantasy the best example would be “A Troll in Central Park”, Don Bluth, 1994. It’s an animated fairytale about a troll, named Stanley, that is banished to New York City for having a green thumb, the punishment being the assumption that there is no greenery to be found amidst Manhattan's concrete canyons. Much to his delight, however, little Stanley finds himself dropped in Central Park, in mid spring. The park is drawn beautifully, with a remarkable respect given to geographic detail, and it becomes a final battle ground between powerful forces for good and evil. Of course the forces of good prevail and the park becomes an Eden-like garden in the process.