OSCARS 2020: The Irishman (2019)

Throughout the history of American cinema, I don't know if any filmmaker is more associated with the gangster genre than Martin Scorsese. Maybe Coppola but he hasn't maintained the latter day respect Marty has. This reputation is somewhat ironic, considering Scorsese has only previously directed four mob movies across his thirty-four film career. Nevertheless, it was clear through the long development, extended production, and repeated delays that “The Irishman” was going to be his final statement on the mobster genre. This is most evident in how the film teamed Scorsese with the three actors most associated with this type of story: DeNiro, Pesci, and Pacino. (Who had somehow never made a film with Scorsese before.) Combined with an epic three-and-a-half hour runtime and the biggest budget of Scorsese's career, owing to the extensive digital de-aging of the cast, “The Irishman” is clearly meant to be a gangland epic like no other. Despite the massive expectations riding on this, Scorsese seems to have deliver. “The Irishman” has received raves from just about every corner of the film critic world, including the Academy.

“The Irishman” is adapted from the true crime book “I Heard You Paint Houses,” which was based on the possibly bullshit confessions of teamster and mob hitman Frank Sheeran. After returning home from World War II, Frank Sheeran gets a job driving a meat truck. Soon, he starts selling steak to a mobster behind his boss' back. After being accused of stealing, he's put in touch with a union lawyer, a cousin of Russell Bufalino, the head of Pennsylvania's biggest crime syndicate. Soon enough, Frank becomes a mob hitman and not long after that, he meets Jimmy Hoffa. Through the years, Frank and Hoffa form a strong friendship that carries through the changing times and the various entanglements of unions, politics, and the criminal underworld. But this too will someday end.

Over the course of “The Irishman's” epic run time, the film repeatedly returns to the idea of brotherly bonds made between brutal men. Frank and Russell's friendship is forged over a wonky truck engine, the two quickly growing closer as they learn more about each other's violent lives. Frank and Hoffa's bond is similarly based in each men's willingness to subvert the rules to get what they want. Yet anyone with a sense of history knows that Hoffa's mob entanglements eventually cost him his life. So, despite all the rewards they give each other, despite all the time they spend together, it's clear that Frank and Hoffa's friendship was meant to be broken. Like many of Scorsese's mobster flicks, “The Irishman” reveals how there is no honor among thieves. That a violent, criminal life only leads to blood and heartbreak for everyone.

In fact, “The Irishman” has widely been considered a summation of many of the themes Scorsese has touched on throughout his career. This comes into even sharper reflect as the movie pulls into its final third. After three hours of watching Frank be a violent scumbag, we see him degrade into a broken old man. His health fails him, his body fails him. His family abandons him. Russell, his only true friend, dies. Soon, he's left alone as an elderly man in a nursing home, who can still only see the world through the prism of hits and mob loyalties. It's a stunningly quiet conclusion, the weight of a lifetime of regrets being keenly felt. Scorsese, DeNiro, Pesci, and Pacino are all getting up there in age. Clearly, an ending so evocative of the finality of life, the regrets of old age, is rift with personal meaning for all of them. That is the area “The Irishman” most impresses in.

Though the film's long length quickly became notorious, that ending wouldn't mean as much if “The Irishman” hadn't taken its time. The extra breathing room of a three and a half hour run time allows for many interesting, small asides. Such as the way Frank's brutish way of life, how he can only resolve conflicts through violence, destroys his relationship with his daughter. Peggy Sheeran's lack of dialogue has been controversial but that's entirely the point. Frank can't communicate with his daughter on any level, which “The Irishman” makes very literal. This is just one way the characters' blustering macho egos get in the way of a normal life. In another key moment, Hoffa gets into an argument with a rival over being late to a meeting, that eventually ends in a petty fist fight.

“The Irishman” also proves that, even this late into his career, Martin Scorsese is still capable of pulling of an impressive set piece. There's a quiet humor to “The Irishman.” This is noticeable in the often appearing on-screen titles, which clarify the unseemly way the majority of the movie's characters die. Or the off-hand way Frank, in narration, details which guns are best for what kind of hit. Yet Scorsese is still capable of creating moments of great intensity and visual playfulness. The stand-out moment of “The Irishman” is a hit Frank performs in the middle of a seafood restaurant. The camera swirls around DeNiro and his victims as he fires more bullets into the man's body, the violence eventually exploding through a glass door and into the streets. Yet even this is not my favorite scene in “The Irishman.” That would be when, after a montage of car bombs going off, Hoffa's wife pauses before turning the keys in the ignition. It's a great, largely visual depiction of just how much the bloody gangster lifestyle ruins the lives of those around them.

After slumming it for years in various subpar projects, Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino are all too aware that this may very well be there last chance to show what they are made of as performers. DeNiro, narrating in a reflecting style throughout the film, certainly proves once again why he's one of the most respected performers of his generation. DeNiro's glances or a nods speak volume, especially as more and more regrets are added to Frank's shoulders. Pacino, meanwhile, is fantastically bombastic as Hoffa. His profane rants are among the film's most entertaining moments, which plays to Pacino's operatic strengths. Joe Pesci, meanwhile, plays against type as Russell. Instead of the swearing, manic heights Pesci is beloved for, Russell is a quiet man who considers every word before he says it. It's another good indicator of the amount of control and grace Pesci is capable of as an actor.

Yes, “The Irishman” is very long. You have to carve out a large chunk of your day to watch it. I'm tempted to say the film didn't need to be quite such a behemoth but that ending really counts for a lot. Also, yes, the digital de-aging effects are a bit on the distracting side. DeNiro never quite looks as young as he's suppose to, making his exact age during any of the flashback scenes hard to determine. All things considered, “The Irishman” is an experience absolutely worth going through. It is Martin Scorsese and his frequent co-collaborators making their final, definitive statement on the mobster movie, summing everything up and somehow finding new things to say about it. [9/10]