November 09, 2019
The Irishman
In 1990 a steadicam shot followed Henry and Karen Hill through the maze of the Copacabana night club from street to seat. It was intoxicating viewing. In 2019 a steadicam shot creeps through the halls of a retirement home until it settles on the face of a crumpled, broken down old man with a lifetime of regret behind his eyes. The glamour and glitz of earlier mafia movies is gone. Now it's time for something else entirely.
Frank Sheehan was no stranger to violence having been introduced to killing during the Italian campaign of World War 2. This propensity for bloodshed was recognised and nurtured by a Philadelphia Mafioso called Russell Bufalino and under his wing Frank flourished. To help Frank move up the ranks Russell introduced him to the doomed Teamster leader James Riddle Hoffa. Frank and James became friends and confidantes quickly but in the world of organised crime things change fast and we get an answer to one of the great American mysteries.
No one expected this to be this good. Martin Scorsese's long gestating adaption of I Heard You Paint Houses had disaster written all over it. Behind the scenes strife, studios afraid to take it on because of it's cost & epic scope and the much hyped and much feared de-aging special effects that would be used to portray Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci and Al Pacino at various different ages. But Martin Scorsese was the man behind the wheel and when it comes to a master like that we should have never doubted him. He's created something brilliant and something totally different to what we expected. There's no glory or flash here. The bright lights of Casino and the glamour of Goodfellas are replaced with deepening wrinkles, all encompassing tragedy and the inexorable march towards the grave everyone faces.
Yet it's hilarious at the same time. Who would have thought so much humour can be mined from finding out how people die? Al Pacino once again reminds us of how he became known as the greatest actor ever™ as he has an absolute ball as Jimmy Hoffa, the union leader who was once bigger than The Beatles. Jimmy's a scumbag, a bigoted pig who held everyone to his own awkward standards but Pacino somehow makes him priceless even when he's off another yet another profane diatribe. It's the best I've seen him in years. His disgust during a business meeting in Miami.....it's just so good. God it's a joy to see these actors back in from the cold. Joe Pesci too exudes an odd warmth from a man who could order murder with a simple look. The scenes where his Russell and De Niro's Frank become acquainted are among the simplest and most beautiful moments Scorsese has ever created. Two people just breaking bread together and we could watch it forever.
As Sheeran Robert De Niro has the hardest role. He's in almost every scene and he's impossible to warm to. The de-aging effects are most noticeable with him and give his eyes a glassy, robotic sheen that make him feel not quite human. But that also helps sell him as the ruthless Irish killer that wormed his way into an exclusively Italian club. It's a tribute to De Niro's skill that you somehow begin to feel for him as the movie progresses and a lifetime of villainy takes it's toll on his psyche. So much so that by the end of the film sadness has you in it's grip. It's part of what distances this from Scorsese's earlier forays into gangster life. The shit left in crimes wake. The toll violence takes. The effects it has on those around it. Sheeran's family are terrified of him. None moreso than his daughter Peggy (Anna Paquin). Some might see her as wasted (she is) as her dialogue consists of no more than 8 words throughout but they pack a punch that follows the film through to the bitter end.
With 3 kings of crime cinema holding court it's no surprise everyone else doesn't get much screentime. Harvey Keitel's Angelo Bruno is a glorified cameo, Bobby Cannavale's Skinny Razor barely registers and Jesse Plemon's Chucky O'Brien get to talk about fish(!?) but they all add to to lovingly and believably populated universe. It's nice to see Scorsese picking from the repertory company of actors and actresses he's built up over the years too. Familiar faces from Mean Streets, Casino, Boardwalk Empire and Goodfellas crop up regularly, from the famous to the unknown. I got a fierce kick out of seeing Welker White, best known as Lois, the babysitter/drug smuggler who wouldn't fly without her lucky hat from Goodfellas, turning up and doing good work as Josephine Hoffa.
With all these old faces cropping up and the moments scattered throughout that hark back to his older movies, The Irishman feels like Scorsese's last hurrah in gangster cinema, like he's putting it all to rest. If that's the case it's a magnificent, elegant way to move on. There's no one better at it so why not leave at the top of your game. Who else would lavish as much time on creative watermelon use, ice cream and the best chilli dogs in America as on answering one of the biggest puzzles in America folklore?
The Irishman is out now in selected cinemas and will be available on Netflix from the 27th of November.
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