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The Irishman (2019)


Martin Scorsese may have some problematic views about what is and isn't considered "cinema," but the man is, unquestionably, one of the best filmmakers of his generation, and still one of the finest craftsmen working today.

So as much as I didn't like what he had to say about the MCU, I was always, always going to watch The Irishman (2019). Even knowing full well that the film was a staggering three-and-a-half hours

I. What Is It?

This is the story of Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro), a teamster turned Philadelphia made-man. After proving his bona fides, Frank is assigned as a body man for crooked union boss, Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino). That assignment, and Hoffa's fiery temper, will lead the men down a path riddled with corruption and the bodies of friends and foes alike.

II. A Mob Epic

This movie plays out similar to a mobster Forrest Gump: Frank wanders in and out of key moments in American history, from WWII, to the Bay of Pigs, the Kennedy assassination, and even unto Jimmy Hoffa's famed "disappearance." The film is epic in scale, aided by excellent de-aging effects, a keen script (by Steve Zaillian), and a kind of running annotation that tells us who these mobsters are and what grisly ends they meet.

One of the things that sets The Irishman (2019) apart from other mob movies, even apart from Scorsese's other mob movies, is that it follows old men. Or, rather, it allows its characters to grow old. Most mob movies follow the come-up of some pioneering gangster, but they usually don't survive til the end, or they leave the life before they grow old. Frank, and his boss, Russell Bufalino (played by Joe Pesci), stay in the life and grow old in it. Along the way they lose their families and their humanity: Pesci becomes a doddering old fool in prison, and De Niro's Frank ends the film as a ghastly, white-haired specter of his former self. We follow Frank from his first dip into crime as a meat truck driver in the fifties, to his isolation in an old folks him in the early aughts.

Scorsese also understands that mob movies aren't just smorgasbords of violence. They are as American as Apple Pie. In what other country, in what other system, could organized crime flourish so fully? To Scorsese, mob history IS American history, and the men who sold their lives to that system are subjects worthy of study and analysis. Is the movie violent? Yes. But it also attempts to comment on a life lived in violence, and whether or not it's worth it to have done so, despite the rationalizations of the perpetrators of that violence. Frank does everything for his family: but he loses his daughter along the way. Not to a bullet, but because she sees him for who he really is, and hates him for it.

Yes, the movie is 209 minutes long. That is, by all accounts, an insanely long movie. However, I was engaged the entire time I spent with the film. Some films demand the epic length, and The Irishman is one such film. I am glad that Scorsese was allowed to let the story breathe and develop. By the film's end, your butt may be numb, but you will have experienced and incredible journey.

III. As Good Now As They Ever Were

Much can be said, and has been said, about older directors "losing it" in their twilight years. Whatever you think of Scorsese's latter-day filmography, The Irishman finds him a filmmaker channeling every power that made him famous. The film is imbued with the kind of vitality and stylistic flourish that mark his early, iconic films, but there is also a sense of introspection, wisdom and patience that his other films lack.

De Niro, too, is on the top of his game. Even under all of the digital de-aging, he conveys a thousand words in a look and gesture. He plays Frank with heart and pathos. He never lets Frank off the hook for being a monster, but he never allows us to forget that he is a man, either. What's really cool, is that De Niro gets to play Frank an epic fashion: we get to know a much younger, post-WWII Frank at the beginning of the film, and end it with Frank in an assisted-living facility, waiting for death to relieve him of his accumulated guilt and oppressive tragedy. De Niro is an actor, now, that has the grace and power to flesh out that transition in a truly impressive fashion.

Joe Pesci is a revelation. He cut his teeth on hot-headed characters with Napoleon complexes. In The Irishman, his Russell Bufalino is quiet, reserved, and kindly, when he isn't issuing orders for the murder of various enemies. The role allows Pesci to flex his talent, and sink his teeth into a different kind of role than I've ever seen him in. I think a Best Supporting Actor nod could be in Pesci's future.

Al Pacino has become something of a joke. But his Jimmy Hoffa is a true return to form. He channels the insane, eye-popping energy that has become a punchline of his latter-day performances into a character who is something of a force of nature. Hoffa is larger than life, and Pacino toes the line between living legend and cartoon with deft skill and ability. Hoffa's storied downfall is Shakespearean, and Pacino brings it to life before your eyes.

The Irishman gathers together living legends of cinema and gives them ample opportunity to seal their status. And they do. In spades.

IV. Vibrant and Gorgeously Conceived

Rodrigo Prieto's photography is jaw-dropping and gorgeous. The way the film starts in vibrant, lush colors, and ends with all the color bled out is symbolic and subtle, and beautifully done.

Robbie Robertson's score is bluesy and jazzy and compliments the licensed soundtrack with verve. When the needle drops, and it does with the regularity that only Scorsese can pull off, it drops with atomic precision and scene-enhancing fury.

The art direction, costume design and set construction really establish the world of the film and transports the viewer there.

The film is simply gorgeous, whether it's splattered in blood or echoing some fifties rock tune. I am sure that seeing this thing the a theater is quite the experience, but viewing it at home, and a decent TV, is still a damn fine investment of time.

V. Women Should Be Seen and Not Heard... Or Developed as Characters

Look, this is a movie about a notoriously male organization (the mob). But that doesn't mean that there aren't opportunities for female characters to be fully fleshed out, three-dimensional characters. Sadly, in this movie, any person with a vagina is relegated to cardboard cut out status. Scorsese even went to the trouble of casting Anna Paquin as the older version of Sheeran's daughter, and shone a light on her abandonment of her father. And Paquin utters maybe a handful of words of dialogue. In a three-and-a-half-hour movie. It's kind of fucking insulting.

Other women are reduced to nagging wives and pretty dolls to "be protected."

I mean, at least Scorsese doesn't reduce his female characters to sex symbols or force them to be assaulted or raped.

But. That doesn't mean that he lets them be real people, either.

Why You Should See It

- It is a staggeringly epic piece of mob cinema, and marks an artist working at the top of his game, utilizing the talents of other men at the tops of their games.
- It is impeccably constructed on every level.
- It is streaming on Netflix, now, for your viewing pleasure.

Why You Shouldn't See It

- It is long. Really long.
- It doesn't treat its female characters well. Any of them.

In Conclusion

I don't know if The Irishman is Scorsese's best film. That is a difficult conversation to have. I can say that this is Scorsese at HIS best: he still knows how to spin a cinematic yarn with pizzazz and flair. He returns to his mobster roots as an older director, with a more nuanced perspective and a keen eye for tying the stories of these criminals into the historical fabric of America's story. It is a captivating story of American evil, the stories we tell ourselves, the cost of our choices, and the savage weight of betrayal. It is one of the best movies of the year, and an instant classic of the mob genre, and you can watch it streaming, today, on Netflix. Huzzah!

Miscellany

- Joe Pesci refused to come out of retirement for the film on multiple occasions. Scorsese had to talk him into signing on. This is Pesci's first on-screen performance since 2010.
- This is the first time that Pacino and Scorsese worked together.
- This is Scorsese's longest picture. It was shot in 106 days.
- Many major theater chains have refused to show The Irishman, noting that Netflix's plan to stream it thirty days after its in-theater premiere would dampen their abilities to turn a profit on it.

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