Friday, 22 November 2019

The Irishman is Scorsese's magnificent elegy on the gangster genre


It is not unusual for a great director towards the end of his career to become a little retrospective in their work. Clint Eastwood, for example, did it in Unforgiven (1992) and his Iwo Jima movies, and to a certain extent in Gran Torino (2008). These were meditations on his career and his very screen persona which considered the effects and consequences of violence

In The Irishman Martin Scorsese does something similar as he considers a directing career spanning more than 60 films in almost as many years. The themes at play in his work are broadly religion and masculinity. The search for God began in Mean Streets (1973) and ended three years ago in Silence (2016), still the most underrated of his films in my opinion.

If that film examined his quest for faith, The Irishman is a companion piece of sorts which visits the other great theme of his work. It is a look at masculinity, not the toxic masculinity of Mean Streets, Raging Bull (1980) and Taxi Driver (1976) but a more particular version. This film looks at what it means to be a certain type of man in post war America.

The Second World War is a touchstone in this film for our hero Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) and his generation. Often styled by those who followed as the greatest generation they operated under their own code and their own system. Frank, working for the Bufalino crime family, works under an even stricter code. This is literally Mob rule.

Frank is a blue collar hit man but he cannot say what he does. I Hear You Paint Houses is the title of the source book, a reference to his work as a hired killer in which houses are painted with blood and brains. Euphemistically Frank also proudly boasts that he does his own carpentry which means he disposes of the body too. Somewhere along the way, it’s implied, he also disposes of his decency and humanity.

We first encounter Frank as a truck driver, a teamster, who has a chance meeting with Russell Buffalino (Joe Pesci). The mobster takes a shine to him and Frank starts augmenting his income with a little off the books criminality. His wartime skills and combat experience lead him to work as a hitman, an enforcer. Frank is also a staunch union man and through Bufalino meets Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino) the head of the Teamsters Union, a man who Frank adores

The story of Jimmy Hoffa in many ways is the story of post war America, the rise of the blue collar workforce, and Frank has a ringside seat as the American century hits its stride. That this is also a history of corruption and wrongdoing is neither here nor there.

It is what it is, as the most fateful sentence in the film has it, and Frank is left alone with nothing but memories. He is the last man standing.

Unusually given that Scorsese is revisiting his standard themes of sin and repentance, Frank cannot repent. Even when his priest is delivering the Sacrament of the Sick towards the end of his life Frank appears to be approaching God but will not repent. Does he genuinely feel no remorse or has his life cost him so much in terms of those he holds dear that he feels he has already atoned? That is for us to decide in a film which lays out the information without ever judging.

The Irishman is a towering piece of work from America’s greatest living director. It runs for a whisker under three and a half hours but never sags or drags. Scorsese is in command of the immaculately-paced material from the first elegant oner that announces his cinematic mastery to the final enigmatic closing shot. It is a compelling and hypnotic piece of storytelling which is completely absorbing.

Given the length of the film, it is the very opposite of the typical Scorsese gangster film. The effervescence of Mean Streets is entirely absent here; this is a ruminative and reflective film in which a master looks back at his career.

Robert De Niro is excellent as Frank with the sort of performance we haven’t seen for some time, Al Pacino – unaccountably working with Scorsese for the first time – is great as Hoffa but, for me, the performance of the movie comes from Joe Pesci. He is sublime as Russell Buffalino, a portrayal of complete and unquestioned power. Bufalino is a man whose every whim is catered to until he realises that even he has to accept limits to the extent of his authority.

In some ways the bond between Russell and Frank, and their particular type of friendship, is at the heart of this film. Unlike the scabrous relationships between the two of Goodfellas (1990) or Casino (1995), this is affectionate and sustaining like a surrogate father and son. Russell is all Frank has left when, like Ethan Edwards in The Searchers (1956), his actions have driven him beyond the pale.

In some ways The Irishman is like a greatest hits album for the director. As well as De Niro and Pesci we also see Scorsese alumni such as Harvey Keitel, Bobby Cannavale, Stephen Graham, Gary Basaraba, Barry Primus and many others. Given that the theme of the movie is fast and retributive violence there is also a great deal of warmth and humour in the film; at times it’s like watching some people you’ve known for years having a great time at a really cool party.

Behind the scenes it is also old home week with Scorsese collaborators such as Irwin Winkler, Jane Rosenthal, Rodrigo Prieto, Robbie Robertson and the incomparable Thelma Schoonmaker playing their part in bringing this masterpiece to life.

De Niro has famously described The Irishman as ‘unfinished business’ between himself and Scorsese. Over the years their collaboration has resulted in some of the greatest American films ever made. It is unlikely we will ever see their like again and, that being the case, this is a fitting coda to their earlier work.

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