The Irishman (2019)

 

Director: Martin Scorsese

Stars: Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, Al Pacino, Stephen Graham, Harvey Keitel

Short Review, no spoilers

This is vintage Scorsese tinged with poignancy - a deeply satisfying gangster movie that deals with lifelong friendships and the pains of growing old. The prospect of the legendary director working with not only Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci and Harvey Keitel again, but also Al Pacino is as rewarding as anticipated – they’re all a little older but as compelling as ever.

Full Review (spoilers)

The film opens in classic Scorsese style: a long, unedited tracking shot moving from room to room accompanied by a 1950s pop song. Wryly referencing a device previously used to propel the viewer in to an immersive, kinetic environment, following the movements of a young and ambitious protagonist, here the camera drifts ghostlike in to an old people’s home, eventually arriving at our aged hero, stationary in his wheelchair, waiting out death. As in Goodfellas and Casino, The Irishman revolves around the life of a criminal whose reward for surviving a violent existence, even as all those surrounding him fall, is to end up alone. The difference here is that we are taken right up to the end of Frank Sheeran’s life, even witnessing him picking out a coffin for himself, and a spot for his memorial stone.

Based on true events, the film takes Sheeran’s unproven claims that he killed union president Jimmy Hoffa in 1975 as truth, building a story around it of institutionalised corruption, political intrigue, and tested loyalties. In the film as in life, both Sheeran and Hoffa are shown to be associated with mob boss Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci) and his superior, Angelo Bruno (Harvey Keitel), ties which lead Hoffa to run in to trouble with the Kennedys, and most likely were behind his mysterious disappearance. Spanning a timeline from the 1940s to the 1990s, and cutting back and forth between various eras within this period, the film explores the development of Sheeran’s associations with both Hoffa and the mob, and the build-up to Hoffa’s assassination, as imagined by Scorsese.

A little slow to get going and with a few unnecessary sequences at the end, Scorsese’s longest film could have been shorter. Where it does pick up pace is when Pacino enters the action, the best of an excellent cast on this occasion. In comparison to the last successful teaming up of De Niro and Pacino – Michael Mann’s Heat - here, Pacino steals the show, providing a performance as entertaining if not as brash and blustering. As for De Niro, he’s understated in this film, not in the icily cool way as he was in the aforementioned, but in a somewhat more underwhelming way. Nevertheless, as in Heat, this probably works well in allowing Pacino the room to act big, De Niro perhaps knowing that a subtler performance on his part compliments their work together much better than butting heads. As a result, the friendship between Sheeran and Hoffa is believable and moving. Most enjoyable is seeing the two discuss union and mob politics in shared hotel rooms in their pyjamas; and when Hoffa has to reassure his upset friend that a ball-out in his office was not aimed at him – “I didn’t even see you there!” Most heart-breaking is De Niro’s expression when he realises his role in Hoffa’s death, and their last embrace in the back of a car on the way to Hoffa’s demise.

Pacino is also at times very funny, contributing most to the humour that is not unusual amongst all the machismo and violence in a Scorsese movie. Following the unhesitating and emphatic beating of a would-be assassin by Hoffa’s son Chuck, Hoffa immediately launches in to enthusiastic praise for Chuck’s actions, and goes on to tutor the assembled journos on the best way to deal with an assailant depending on what weapon they have: “You always charge a guy with a gun! With a knife you run away.” Later, in a brief moment of what is surely unscripted, uncorrected improv, Pacino abruptly backs in to the unprepared actors behind him, showing Hoffa’s eagerness to demonstrate spirited bullishness to more photo-snapping journos. And in characteristic Scorsese fashion, whereby we bear witness to the potentially fatal danger in causing offence when involved in mob fraternities, there is a degree of comedy in Hoffa’s heated bouts with fellow union leader Tony ‘Pro’ Provenzano. During these tense exchanges the increasingly known threat to Hoffa’s life is a dark undercurrent to two men struggling to repress a trading of personal insults. Stephen Graham, as said thorn in Hoffa’s side, is brilliant as always, holding his own amongst the heavy-hitters and again demonstrating why he’s up there with them – an assured, fluid performance.

Joe Pesci is also excellent as Russell Bufalino, out of retirement and reunited again with Scorsese and De Niro, who broke him as a star way back in 1980 with Raging Bull. As with Hoffa and in real life, Sheeran/De Niro shares a friendship spanning several decades with Bufalino/Pesci, one which in the film forces him to choose between the two of them. Sheeran and Bufalino also share poignant moments, such as a flashback to their first meeting, and the sharing of bread as they grow old in prison together. Sadly, another moment is tinged with cynicism, when Bufalino gives Sheeran a ring to symbolise his acceptance as a ‘made’ man in the mob. Not coincidentally, the gesture immediately follows Sheeran’s heartfelt request that Hoffa speak at a testimonial dinner in his honour, and is in fact ushered in to complicate Sheeran’s loyalty, as the mob close in on the assassination of an increasingly mouthy and out-of-control Hoffa.

Anna Paquin as the adult Peggy, one of Sheeran’s daughters, doesn’t have much to do, but rather her character serves as a moral gauge. In quietly observing more than her father would like, she demonstrates an instinctive dislike of Russell while at the same time forming a warm, close bond with Jimmy, despite both lavishing her with attention and gifts. Her reaction foreshadows what the film suggests was the wrong way for Sheeran – with Russell and against Jimmy. Another very good performance, surprisingly, is Ray Romano (of US sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond) as Bill Bufalino, Russell’s cousin and lawyer to all involved. And Harvey Keitel regains dignity after the car insurance adverts, hence it would have been nice to see more of him in this film.

The use of technology to ‘de age’ the actors has had mixed responses; in the opinion of this reviewer, it was more successful than expected and, although imperfect, did not distract from the telling of the tale as a whole. What it did prove is that is less easy to restore the physical agility of youth, De Niro in particular moving with the stiff grace of an older man most apparent when stomping on the hand of a shopkeeper that had made the mistake of physically disciplining a young Peggy. However, discussions on how to manage the physical side of aging actors are less interesting than the manner in which the film engages with matters of the soul when growing old, particularly when reflecting on a life which, whether or not actual regret is there, there is much to repent for. Even at the end of his days, Frank tells a priest that he doesn’t regret the suffering he caused others in a life littered with violent deeds. What is alluded to however, is the pain of an unforgiving daughter, seen curtly closing her counter as a hobbling Frank attempts to approach Peggy at her job in a bank. This brief scene is another that is beautifully played out, and one sequence in the final segment of the film which is worthy of inclusion. The build up is slow and the significance unclear, as Frank queues for a lengthy period before ushering a fellow customer ahead of him. Then the camera spins right to show Peggy abruptly leaving her position before Frank can speak to her, literally closing the door on any final reconciliation.

In another darkly humorous aside, captions appear throughout the film which inform us of the violent deaths of various characters. Near the end, Sheeran is questioned by FBI men in a last-ditch attempt to get him to confess to which Sheeran demands to see his lawyer. The FBI inform him that Bill Bufalino is dead – they’re all dead. Sheeran’s immediate response is: “Who did it?” The punchline is that he actually died of natural causes - cancer. Like Bill, Frank and Russell are two of the few that avoid death by murder. The film appears like a swansong, about knowing when one’s time is up, something that, unlike most others, Russell and Frank are afforded. Russell dies in prison, seen wheeled in to church to finally confess when he realises his own end is nigh. Frank lives long enough to finish his time in ‘school,’ but subsequently goes through the process of addressing his own death in unavoidable detail, alone and with the pain of unforgiven sins.

If The Irishman is Scorsese’s own swansong on the other hand, it would be a regrettable loss to the film world, but also undoubtedly one composed gracefully and stamped indelibly with his unique style.