[rating=7.00]
There’s an undeniable excitement at seeing Martin Scorsese return to the gangster genre. This is, of course, a genre he already mastered with Goodfellas and Casino, both of which set the standard so high that it’s been virtually untouchable since. The Irishman’s return to these mafia roots comes with the expectations that the auteur himself has set, especially considering his reunion with Robert DeNiro and an unretired Joe Pesci, both of whom were a big reason why those earlier gangster films were so remarkable.
Of course, we can’t discount the fact that both Goodfellas and Casino are as near perfect as cinema could ever get. No movie, no matter the pedigree, could ever really match the beauty of either of those films, even one made by and starring the same people. Despite all the buzz and the years of excitement building towards the release of The Irishman, in the end it’s only a pretty good movie, not the great one we had hoped for.
This is a film whose ambition exceeds its ends and, while never bad, remains too weighted by itself to ever fully take off. This, even for a movie that features three outstanding performances from DeNiro, Pesci, and Al Pacino (who delivers his best performance in decades) and some inspired technical wizardry from Scorsese. In the end, The Irishman is just another gangster movie, which does the same thing that gangster movies have always done without adding anything particularly new to the narrative.
There is something to be said about the technical aspect of the film, which features de-aging of its three leads. While not new, the process has rarely looked as good as it does here, even if the problem of mouths looking a little off is still very much prevalent. Still, the technology is still in its early stages and the leaps forward that has been made in just a few years says a lot about what they’ll be able to do in just a few more. If the characters look this good now, who good will they look in another five years?
And then there’s the Netflix angle. DeNiro and Scorsese had tried for years to get this film, based on the book of the same name by Charles Brandt, and it wasn’t until the streaming service gave them the budget and freedom they needed to get it done that it moved forward. This is but the latest salvo in the ongoing streaming wars, which has moved beyond the living room and into the theater as the technology upstarts vie for award season glory.
Netflix has been creeping closer and closer to winning a Best Picture award and The Irishman does look like a potential nominee. The industry drama surrounding the streaming services’ attempts at dethroning traditional studios adds a layer of intrigue to The Irishman, from a business perspective. In fact, it almost outshines it entirely.
But none of this saves The Irishman from being, at its core, a by the numbers mafioso drama that doesn’t add anything new to the genre. It’s a film riddled with scene after scene of the kinds of things we’ve seen since The Godfather and, at three and a half hours long, gets tiresome eventually. Here’s a backroom deal. Here’s a bloody hit. Here’s an attempt at a cold-blooded killer being a family man. You’ve seen it all before.
The film follows Frank Sheeran (DeNiro) in his decades-long rise from truck driver to hitman at the behest of his friend, Russell Bufalino (Pesci). They soon meet and make deals with Teamster president Jimmy Hoffa (Pacino) and we watch as Hoffa makes quiet deals with the mafia to keep his growing empire from collapsing. It’s not long until Hoffa runs afoul of his friends in the mob, leading to the secret of his disappearance to be revealed. Along the way, Sheeran must find a way to keep his family clear of his wrong doings without their finding out what the nature of his job actually is.
Brandt’s book has been marked by controversy from the very start, with many questioning the legitimacy of Sheeran’s claims, which are seen here. Whether or not Sheeran actually played a role in Hoffa’s death is questionable, at best, though the film plays it completely straight. While the film certain gives us an answer to Hoffa’s disappearance, whether or not its definitive is anyone’s guess.
Still, regardless of anything else I might have to say about The Irishman, it does give us the best ever portrayal of the Teamster boss ever seen on film, surpassing even Jack Nicholson’s performance in Hoffa. Ostensibly a vehicle for DeNiro, Pacino commits grand larceny in every scene he’s in, stealing the film out from under him piece by piece. Watching him is rapturous to the point where every minute he’s not on screen feels like a minute wasted.
And, oh, how I’ve missed Pesci. His cinematic absence over the years has long been felt, but never has it been felt as hard as it does now that we’re seeing him in action once again. You truly don’t know what you have until it’s gone, and this reminder serves only to make us feel that absence even harder. His quiet portrayal plays entirely against the type of character he made famous throughout the 80s and 90s, showing the sheer depth of his skills as an actor. Marked all those years as a character actor, he proves here just what a talent he always was. Knowing it’ll most likely be the last time we see him makes it bittersweet, but the sweet absolutely outweighs the bitter.
As to the film itself? It’s fine. It does what it needs to and is full of the kinds of flourishes that make all Scorsese films interesting. The unwieldy run time is quite a lot to chew on and never quite justifies itself in any meaningful way. While Scorsese tries to turn the film into an existential case study about growing old and the choices we make, in the end it’s just tedious. The best argument it makes for seeing this on the big screen, as opposed to Netflix, is that in the theater you’re trapped and have no other options.
Scorsese diehards will no doubt love The Irishman, and it is his best film in years, but it’s never the great movie it wants to be and tries to be. It, like so many gangster films, sits in the shadow of Goodfellas and Casino and never quite finds its way out. Instead, it feels like another rehash, even if it’s a particularly good rehash.
The Irishman is now playing in select theaters and hits Netflix on November 27.
