The Luck of The Irishman Lies in the Triple Threat of DeNiro, Pacino and Pesci

It was hard while watching The Irishman not to think about Martin Scorcese’s (who directed the film) recent controversy over the MCU and his dismissal of it because those films aren’t cinema. I’m not so clear on whether or not The Irishman constitutes “cinema,” but it is easily one of, if not the best film of 2019. After wallowing in development hell since 2004, Scorcese finally released the long awaited film with a cast of his usual suspects, (Robert DeNiro, Joe Pesci, and in a smaller role Harvey Kietel) as well as working with Al Pacino for the first time, The Irishman showcases these aging actors well.

Based upon Charles Brandt’s I Heard You Paint Houses (a much better title than The Irishman if you ask me) and adapted for the screen by Steven Zallian (Schindler’s List, Gangs of New York and Moneyball), the films begins with one of Scorcese’s now famous long and winding dolly shots through an assisted living home filled with aging people until it comes up from behind and then around to face a very old Robert DeNiro as Frank Sheeran who begins recounting his time as a hit man (he painted houses with the blood of his victims).

From this point the film follows Zallian’s structure within a structure as we see a still old but not quite as old Frank Sheeran driving a very old Russel Bufalino (Pesci), and their wives in the backseat. They’re driving to Russel’s cousin’s daughter’s wedding, but have a few stops to make along the way. This structure allows for memories and flashbacks of Frank’s day’s of “painting houses.” From those eighties to the fifties we learn all about Frank’s entry into and his rise in a Philidelphia crime family. Russel Buffalino.

We learn that Frank, needing a union advocate is defended by Bill Bufalino, (Ray Ramano) Russel’s cousin. After asking a few questions, Bill invites Frank to name other names regarding whatever it is Frank’s in trouble for, but Frank declines to do so. This appears to please Bill who soon introduced Frank to Russel. Russel, who Frank had already met at a ruck stop where Russel helped him figure out what was causing him automotive troubles, takes a liking to Frank and soon introduces him to Jimmy Hoffa played by Al Pacino.

Of course, once again Martin Scorcese has made a gangster movie and returning to his recent dismissal of the MCU, one of his complaints was that they were just making the same movie over and over again. I have long felt that Scorcese’s Casino was the same movie as Goodfella’s in that same sense. Both of them tend to glorify gangsterism and I always look to see some kind of subtle wink-wink when people argue that these films are “cautionary tales.” Goodfella’s is so much not a hard look at the gangster life that the film ends with Henry Hill’s obivious regret that he’s no longer a wise guy but isntead a working stiff schmuck. Casino is a little less this, but still is a glamorization of crime families.

The Irishman is finally the gangster film that Scorcese offers as a cautionary tale, but more than this it is film where the central player, just like Henry Hill, shows no regret or remorse for the crimes he’s committed, nor the inuries and murders he’s perpetuated, only that these actions have left him estranged from his own family, not to mention the close friends he killed. “Painting houses,” for Frank at least, was not all it was cracked up to be. DeNiro offers his best performance in countless years. It’s about time he stopped phoning his performances in and reminded us how good he can be.

Sure, he was nominated for an Oscar for his performance in Silver Linings Playbook, but that performance is only mildly better than most of his work for over a decade. Pesci has never been as good as he is in Scorcese’s films, and we are blessed that he came out of semi-retirement to play Bufalino. To see these two together again and in some of their best work is truly joyous. Even more joyous is Al Pacino’s effort. These three are stellar in the Irishman and the rest of the cast put in some great work as well.

Some to do has been made about Scorcese’s proclivities in how he handles women in film, using Anna Paquin (Frank’s daughter Peggy) who has virtually no lines at all. Her performance isn’t an indictment on Scorcese’s mysoginy. With barely a few lines uttered, it is in her silent looks at her father that demonstrate who is being indicted and isn’t Martin Scorcese. Paquin’s effort is Oscar worthy. Her quietly pained and ashamed looks are devastatingly cool and restrained. A beautifully mature performance from an actress who won an Oscar as a child.

I mentioned earlier that The Irihsman is finally Scorcese’s “cautionary tale” about gangsterism and some might disagree and argue that The Departed was that film. While I do think The Departed is in way shape or form a glorification of gangsters, it is also and more so, a strong indictment on undercover policing, and the messy politics that all that entails. What makes The Irishman so striking in its indictment is it’s recognition that Frank is a lost cause. There is no redemptive arc for he, but still even without that redemption, Frank is fully aware of how empty his life had been.

Whatever truly constitutes “cinema,” and for all his efforts, Scorcese has struggled mightily and failed to give a cogent and meaninful definiton of that, he is and always has been a master of filmmaking and The Irishman stands among his best work and quite possibly his very best.