Frank Sheeran: “You don’t know how fast time goes by till you get there.”
Oh, how times flies – first they were Goodfellas. . . now they’re old fellas. Martin Scorsese re-teams with Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, and adds Al Pacino (shockingly, the two had never previously worked together) to the mix in the 2019 film The Irishman.
All kidding aside, it is fascinating how time changes things. Twenty-nine years ago the triumvirate mentioned above worked together on Goodfellas, three forty-something’s on the top of their game. . . arguably still on their respective games, they are all now north of seventy-five.
In Scorsese’s capable hands (and with the power and ability to develop a whopping three hour, twenty-nine minute biographical crime drama), he uses his wisdom to ruminate on time, life, and memory – for this does not have the unbridled energy emanating from Ray Liotta’s Henry Hill in the aforementioned 1990 gem. . . instead, Frank Sheeran (De Niro), who has the self-titular nickname, is found recounting his story from an old folks home at the end of his life (his voice-over narration carries through the entire piece).
Yet, even when we flash back to his entry into this criminal underworld, he is already a grown man. . . a truck driver (delivering meat) who just happens to get help one day from Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci), a respected crime boss whose word means everything. After a delivery issue (the meat he was shipping just happened to disappear), union attorney Bill Bufalino (Ray Romano) gets the man off – after he refuses to name names of any of his shady customers.
This ingratiating move brings him into the hidden in plain sight world, the lawyer reintroducing him to cousin Russell, as well as a number of other dangerous individuals – including Angelo Bruno (Harvey Keitel) and Skinny Razor (Bobby Cannavale).
Soon the man is working as a painter, yet, red is the only colour he uses (if you catch my drift). Now very friendly with Russell, the kingpin introduces him to International Brotherhood of Teamsters union leader Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), helping the man numerous times – the two families become very close.
Hoffa’s biggest thorn in his side is Anthony ‘Tony Pro’ Provenzano (Stephen Graham), a hotshot Teamster on a shooting star trajectory – a man who is quickly gaining enough popularity to soon rival the powerhouse leader.
Spanning some fifty years, from the 1950s until the early 2000s, Scorsese weaves a story through history itself – including the John F. and Robert Kennedy as well as Nixon eras, and then beyond. With attention to detail and some snazzy camera work, the master director takes his time in unfurling the narrative, building his characters, their personalities, their bonds, and their downfalls. It is intriguing to see this angle of the Hoffa story (a true ice-cream addict), and for all of the shenanigans that go on, there is just as much downtime that shows them as different people altogether – Hoffa’s caring bond with Sheeran’s daughter Peggy (as a girl – Lucy Gallina; as an adult – Anna Paquin) showing his love of children. And, in the end, it is about looking back – at your life, your choices, and your mistakes. It leaves a cool shadow over the oft glamorized mob life – it suggesting that death, inside or out, is the only place it can truly lead to (each character is introduced by way of written text onscreen telling the viewer their name, as well as gruesome mode of death).
Perhaps one of the most impressive things is the technology used to de-age the actors. Turning back time to when the actors were in their thirties and forties, it may not be flawless, but it is the best I’ve seen yet – Pacino also focussed back on a memory of that time, trying to move in a way reminiscent of a much younger man.
Yet, in the end, it is the performances that are the film’s cold heart (their execution of sharp dialogue is truly something to behold). De Niro, beholden to both his dangerous friends and the murderous job, comes to realize that the two can sometimes conflict. Pesci channels the presence of a sage oracle, a rarely moving, always watching wizard whose word ensnares, and, more importantly, goes. Then, there is Pacino, capturing the energy and exuberance of Hoffa – his main flaw that of stubbornness when it comes to his baby (the union). He’s all-in, the best at portraying a much younger man, a truly impressive feat (De Niro’s aged posture is much more noticeable). And, when you pair these three with a dynamite supporting cast, you’ve got something really special.
The longest and most expensive film of Martin Scorsese’s career (estimated at $159 million), The Irishman is a character driven study of mob life (and the work of its prolific director – in a mesmerizing way, juxtaposing his classics Goodfellas and Casino all these years later with a much more philosophical study of this way of life). Watch for a late sequence that starts and ends with a plane ride – and listen for the lack of music during the entire stretch – it somewhat reminiscent of the focus and strain of the job found in a robbery scene in the 1955 French film noir Rififi. So, leave the door open to seeing this lengthy (but wholly worthwhile) crime drama, it paints quite the somber picture of mob life.