Oscar Winner Behind the Wheel: The Untold Truth of De Niro’s ‘Taxi Driver’ Prep

The Method Acting Legend Begins

Fresh off his Academy Award win for The Godfather Part II in April 1975, Robert De Niro didn’t rest on his laurels. Instead, he hit the streets of Manhattan, picking up strangers in a yellow cab. His mission? To embody Travis Bickle for Martin Scorsese’s upcoming masterpiece, Taxi Driver. To do it right, De Niro obtained a legitimate New York City hack license, navigating the same bureaucratic hurdles as any working driver before clocking in for real fares.

The Weekend Commute That Shook Rome and Manhattan

Contrary to popular belief, this wasn’t a casual side gig between projects. De Niro was deep into shooting Bernardo Bertolucci’s epic 1900 in Italy. His routine was grueling: wrap production in Rome on Friday, fly across the Atlantic, drive cabs through the weekend, then jet back to report to Bertolucci by Monday. Meanwhile, principal photography for Taxi Driver ran from mid-June to mid-August 1975, capturing a New York City at its most gritty—battling a brutal heatwave, a massive sanitation strike, and the looming threat of municipal bankruptcy.

The “Invisible” Driver and the Myth of the Famous Passenger

Scorsese frequently rode shotgun during those night shifts. What fascinated the director wasn’t De Niro’s driving skills, but the profound anonymity the role provided. “He got a strange feeling when he was hacking,” Scorsese revealed. “He was totally anonymous. People would say anything, do anything in the backseat – it was like he didn’t exist.”

This invisibility birthed the city’s favorite urban legend: a passenger spots De Niro’s name on the license plate and delivers a cutting remark about an Oscar winner reduced to driving a cab. While the encounter did happen, the punchline has been heavily embellished over the decades. The actual passenger was a former actor who simply remarked, “Well, that’s acting. One year, the Oscar – the next, you’re driving a cab!” When De Niro explained he was doing research, the man replied, “Yeah, Bobby. I know. I been there, too.”

De Niro himself has grown weary of the polished anecdote. In recent interviews, he clarified that the cab stint lasted roughly two weeks, only one passenger ever caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror, and the viral version doesn’t match his memory. “That’s a good story, but that’s not the way I remember,” he admitted.

Perhaps the most authentic moment came from writer Mark Carducci, who hopped into De Niro’s cab months before cameras rolled. Completely unaware of the star’s identity, Carducci paid the exact fare and left zero tip—a perfectly ordinary transaction that captured the true, unglamorous reality of the job De Niro was immersing himself in.