THE IRISHMAN

The Data Points

• Year Released: 2019

• Runtime: 209 Minutes

• Directed: Martin Scorsese

• Produced: Martin Scorsese, Robert De Niro, Jane Rosenthal, Emma Koskoff, et. al

• Starring: Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, Al Pacino, Ray Romano, Anna Paquin

• Oscars:

  • Won: Nothing. I get the Acting, Directing, and Best Picture losses, but surely this could have at least beat Ford vs. Ferrari for Editing and Jojo Rabbit for Adapted Screenplay.

  • Nominated: Best Director, Best Supporting Actor x2 (Pacino, Pesci), Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Cinematography, Best Costume Design, Best Production Design, Best Editing, Best Visual Effects, Best Picture.

• IMDb Plot Summary: Hitman Frank Sheeran looks back at the secrets he kept as a loyal member of the Bufalino crime family.

Why The Irishman is Great

The Screenplay: Words and Story. In 2004, Charles Brandt published the book I Heard You Paint Houses based off the deathbed confessions of alleged mob hitman Frank Sheeran in which he details his long career in the mafia and the history that he influenced as a part of that – most notably, his involvement in the killing of Jimmy Hoffa which remains unsolved. Steven Zaillian, whose previous writing credits include Schindler’s List, Gangs of New York, American Gangster, and Moneyball with Aaron Sorkin, adapted this book into a screenplay with an interest in the history, a unique structure, and fascinating dialogue. Before I spend the rest of the article singing the praises of Scorsese and his acting and technical collaborators, I feel like we need to nod to the foundation of this film, which is an incredibly well-paced story that covers 50 years in 3.5 hours of screentime that has continuous drive and build. It also gives us a much darker semi-Forrest Gump appeal where we get a “behind the curtains” look at familiar historical events through the eye of an “everyman”. Frank isn’t aware that he’s making history, he isn’t Michael Corleone from The Godfather investing in Cuba just before Castro takes over, he’s a triggerman. History happens around him and because of his actions, but he is never in on the plans; for an epic film this interested in American history, this is quite rare.

The structure of this screenplay is also crucial; it begins and ends with an old, lonely Frank narrating the events of the film, but there’s another chronological layer to this film revolving around a seemingly innocuous road trip as the basis of his narration. From there, we flash even further back into the past, so we come to learn how Frank got involved in the mob, began “painting houses”, and eventually began working for Jimmy Hoffa before being caught in the middle of the feud between Jimmy and the mob. After Jimmy’s killing, we’re treated to another sprint through mafia history as the organization falls apart into killing each other and getting arrested. From there, however, the film keeps trudging on as Frank grows old and all his colleagues die, his family abandons him, and so he is left do reckon with everything that he has done. I also love the dialogue in this movie; everyone in the mob never says exactly what they mean, and so the result is a 3.5-hour exercise in implications and misunderstandings that lead to murder.

Scorsese: Old and New. Time to praise the master; Martin Scorsese is the best living American filmmaker, and I’m aware that Steven Spielberg exists. Over his career, Scorsese pushed the medium forward through not just the stories that he was telling, but the ways in which he was telling them. From Taxi Driver to Raging Bull to Goodfellas to Casino to The Departed to Wolf of Wall Street to this, he embraces controversy to tell parables of crime, consequence, and punishment. He also continually tries new things with his artistic vision and keeps evolving his talents without becoming complacent the way that Spielberg arguably has. Much has been made about how this film feels like a swan song for both Scorsese as a director and De Niro, Pacino, and Pesci as actors, made especially more poignant by virtue of working in the crime film genre. While that’s hard to argue with, I think it doesn’t give enough credit to what Scorsese achieves with this film. On the other hand, this film’s level of dramatic maturity and intentionally slower pace than Goodfellas and Casino, as well as the time spent on Frank alone in the nursing home and the mood of those scenes feels like a mature reflection on those films in parallel with the reflection that Frank is going through. Whether he is giving us suspense, a darkly wry sense of humor, tension, internal conflict, regret, or grief, Scorsese is giving it to us in its purest form. On that sad day when we lose Scorsese to that same inevitable passage of time that will capture us all, I think we’ll look back on this film as a masterpiece. For now, I think that most of us might be demonstrating a failure to show appreciation.

Echoes. While one way to look at this film is as an echo of Scorsese’s earlier career, the film itself is full of echoes in its dialogue, plot points, and even its use of music (because Marty is a genius). The mob’s codewords and Jimmy’s first words to Frank, “I heard you paint houses”, become haunting as the film goes on and the most significant house that Frank ends up painting is Jimmy’s. Prior to that, every time that Frank was ordered to kill without using the words foreshadows what he’ll be ordered to do to Jimmy, and how that order will be delivered. Every time that he killed without hesitating lead to him killing Jimmy without questioning the order nor later regretting the decision. However, we feel much worse about this order than any of the previous ones, because the film painstakingly establishes Frank’s commitment to following orders as well as painstakingly establishing his relationship and friendship with Jimmy. The music choices create echoes of their own within the story that allow us as the audience to contrast different situations. As Frank rises in the mob, he’s given a harmonica-based tune that eventually gives way to bass which is heard again as the mob disintegrates in the aftermath of Jimmy’s death. And what seems like the theme song of the movie, “In the Still of the Night”, plays at the beginning of the movie, immediately after Jimmy’s death, and right as the film cuts to black after Frank asks the priest to leave his room’s door slightly ajar, just how Jimmy had done it. In his dying moments, it’s quite clear what, and who, is on Frank’s mind.

Characters. If we’re gonna spend 3.5 hours in this world, the characters need to be compelling; they deliver. We’re treated to a rogue’s gallery of supporting characters in the mafia, most of which are giving restrained yet intimidating performances and exist to shepherd Frank and us into the underworld. Stephen Graham is the perfect amount of out-of-control as the hotheaded Tony Pro, while Domenick Lombardozzi wears prosthetics to become Fat Tony Salerno, whose onscreen presence becomes one of doom. I’ll tip my cap to Ray Romano being able to balance his inherit goofiness with the dramatic heaviness that this film embraces, but the fact that he’s Frank’s official first taste of the criminal life imbues it with a sense of innocent mischief that is the first step of Frank’s attraction to the gangster lifestyle. Al Pacino gives a surprisingly great performance as Jimmy Hoffa, who simply lights up the screen with dynamism and life, something that most of the film intentionally lacks to demonstrate the deadening of the soul in a life of crime. His performance is very endearing, creating a tragedy not just for Frank, but for us, as we come to realize the true purpose of the road trip to Detroit far too late. Pesci’s far quieter performance isn’t a weaker one, but more intentionally restrained. He’s able to quietly intimidate with just a look, as he orders hits with hardly a word. Every expression he musters up to complement his rather sparse dialogue is perfect for the character, and it makes his brief expressions of humanity seem contrived.

Frank Sheeran is one of the most complicated characters that Robert De Niro has created, and yes, I’ve seen both Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. He is so reserved, save when he’s talking about executing an order. Otherwise, if he begins talking too long, he begins to stammer. He seems unconcerned with people judging his choices, but at the same time tries to shield his family from his life. He’s not interested in the flashy lifestyle, as Henry Hill was, or the money, as Jordan Belfort was. He seems to crave a system where he could follow orders, especially when those orders were to kill his friends’ enemies. I’ve seen some analyses that suggest he’s a sociopath, and I support the theory; while he guides us through the story with his voiceover, his seeming lack of remorse for anything is chilling.

Other Technicalities. I’ll run at the de-aging first, because while it’s a noble effort, the product is far from perfect. Normally, I’m a proponent of finding another actor to play the younger version of a character, but I understand the intention here; as much as it is a study of life in the mob for a cold-blooded killer, it’s also a study of aging on characters who will never change, never realize the error of their ways, and whose inability to change will lead to friction. That said, the scene where De Niro beats up a shopkeeper won’t appear below. Moving on, this film has elegant sets that achieve what Scorsese looks for: a mix of elegance with familiar, “real life” locations that feel completely lived in. Rodrigo Prieto’s gorgeous digital cinematography combines perfectly with Scorsese’s instincts for framing and movement to create something that feels both new and timeless. Once again, the secret hero of a Scorsese movie may be Thelma Schoonmaker and her crisp editing. While we do get a few rapid sequences and montages like what she helped create in Goodfellas, The Departed, and Raging Bull, she is the perfect extension of Scorsese’s desire to control mood and pace. If you want to learn how editing can create feeling without any music, watch from when the Sheerans and the Bufalinos check into the Howard Johnson motel through to right after Hoffa is killed. It’s about 30 minutes long and it’s utterly gripping filmmaking.

John’s Highlight Reel

• Opening. “In the Still of the Night” is playing, the camera is gently floating around a nursing home at walking pace, before resting on one resident with a special-looking ring, who then just begins speaking about “this particular matter” and how he started “painting houses”. The camera is an abstract being, since the priest that Sheeran later confesses to appears in the side of the shot; whether it’s the specter of death or time, we as the audience are in the shoes of the force that is compelling Frank to confess.

• Whispers. Frank’s slow-burn ascent into becoming a hitman may have been too slow for some, but on second watch the entire film is an exercise in natural and intentional pacing, and to make the case that the slippery slope into this kind of life may happen at a very gentle angle. The shot is framed from a distance, as if we were standing in the street watching a murder happen; there is no glamor in this film’s crimes, which directly confronts us as an audience on what crime films are “supposed” to feel like.

• Meeting Hoffa. Jimmy’s introduction injects a new life into this film at just the right time, and we get pushed from a gangster epic into a historical epic as Frank begins working for him and getting involved in real-life labor demonstrations.

• JFK. Well, here’s a pleasantly surprising, behind-the-scenes look at history that I didn’t know was in this movie! And it’s got all the fun Scorsese energy I was looking for! And it’s an early indicator that the mob and Jimmy are sometimes in disagreement! Wait a minute…

• Jimmy in Prison. I enjoy the witness-tampering segment of the film, but the pace slows just a little following his arrest, and the road that will lead to Jimmy’s death has ben set. Jimmy clashes with Tony Pro, Frank spends even more time with Russell, and the mob realizes that Jimmy’s replacement is easier to work with. Besides the story implications, the *slightest* shifts in pace and tone tell us our story is taking a turn, but there are plenty of clues as to where it’s heading.

• Crazy Joe. Joe’s montage is one of the most entertaining pieces of filmmaking in the movie, and after Russ and Frank share an incredible knowing look, we get the master, “God’s eye” shot of Frank selecting a murder weapon. The scene where he carries out the deed is also impeccable, but on re-watch this scene stuck out for its story implications: 1. With every successive hit, Frank gets more deeply entrenched in the mob, especially when the orders come from Russell 2. The mob is now officially killing its own members, but Frank never questions an order; this will echo later.

• Jimmy vs. The Mob. Here’s another rollicking sequence featuring fun music, smash-cut editing, and a sense of harmless mischief – until Jimmy’s wife is about to turn the key in her car’s ignition and the music cuts off and the camera holds on her in an incredible moment of tension, cleverly set up by the fact that she got a freeze-frame title card on her just like all the other mob bosses (and JFK’s dad) got detailing their fates, which is just genius visual storytelling.

• Award Dinner. It all comes to a head here, but there’s no overtly violent confrontation. What we as an audience don’t realize is that we aren’t witnessing the last straw; we’ve already witnessed it – the decision gets made before Frank vainly tries to intervene, and his intervention seals his fate as having to kill Jimmy to preserve his standing. We don’t realize this the first time as we’re too busy appreciating how elegantly gorgeous this scene is and how well the music seems to complement the bittersweet mood. Something that stood out to me was the final shot of Jimmy and Peggy dancing; Frank has no idea that his actions will cause both to leave his life at the same time, which is yet another thing that the film has been setting up all along.

• “I had to put you into this thing”. My god what a sequence. I called it out earlier, but from when they check into the motel to when Frank shoots Jimmy is a 30-minute masterclass in editing alone; there is no camera movement or music to dazzle and comfort us, there is only the inescapable hollow feeling we have that slowly gives way to the horrific realization that Frank has no way out of this, bleeding into the tension we feel as Frank arrives and meticulously carries out the deed. When Sally Bugs turns around to greet Frank, we as the audience realize there won’t be a happy ending.

• A Bad Hit. Jimmy’s killing seems to break the mob, but Frank is in too deep and far too loyal to Russ and this failing institution to turn on anyone for his own sake; we also know enough about him to know he would find that dishonorable. After killing Bugs, Frank expresses remorse for the first time when he claims that it was a “bad hit”. There’s also a devilish implication to this: when we first met Bugs, he got a freeze frame explaining his fate, but we see Frank commit the act. Does this mean that Frank is responsible for all the others? I think so.

• Old and Alone. The final 30 minutes of this film are bleak, depressing, and powerful. It almost feels like it’s out of a different kind of a film, as this level of drama usually isn’t found in gangster movies. However, it’s his isolation, not prison time, that is Frank’s punishment for his life of murder. For a man who associated with the mob, but never led the mob, the mob’s downfall isn’t the end of his story; his end is the one that awaits us all, that the film through his narration has always been building to. And this film’s extended meditation on aging pushes it into the most personal, powerful, and ultimately one of the best in a storied career for Scorsese and De Niro.