The IrishmanThere are those who believe that each of us knows right from wrong in our hearts. And yet there are those who, in spite of this, sin and justify it as anything from "survival" to "protecting your loved ones", like Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro). The Irishman (titled onscreen as I Heard You Paint Houses) is a mob movie directed by Martin Scorsese. It is adapted from the nonfiction book by Charles Brandt, which is about the sordid life and times of Frank Sheeran, and his ties to the Bufalino crime family; it also explores his complex friendship and working relationship with Teamster boss, Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino).
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Like many films directed by Martin Scorsese, The Irishman chronicles the pervading presence of crime and violence in American society. This film stretches back to post-World War II, and continues all the way to just past the end of the 20th century. Much of the film is told in flashback to the audience, beginning with Frank's introduction into organized crime through a chance encounter with Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci). At that time, Frank was driving meat trucks across Pennsylvania; it's evident that he's looking for more out of life, but is unsure how to get it. When he sees Russell again at a bar having dinner with another gangster, Felix "Skinny Razor" Ditullio (Bobby Cannavale), he makes a move to ingratiate himself and pocket some money on the side. It quickly becomes clear that Frank is no angel. He tells Russell that he learned Italian in World War II, and that in the war, he "did what he had to do to survive". What Frank actually did was commit war crimes, including ordering captured Germans to dig their own graves and then shoot them in cold blood. Frank's propensity toward crime seems to be without any moral compunction--a quality that makes him useful to the mob. In Russell, Frank seems to find both a friend and a means to an end: living the life that he desires. After a would-be arson job is nixed by another mob boss and ally of Russell's named Angelo Bruno (Harvey Keitel), Frank is invited to kill his erstwhile recruiter to make up for the mistake in taking the job in the first place. This reawakens the cold-blooded murderer in Frank who never really came home from the war. Following this, life for Frank and his family only seems to get better and better, as he is showered with money and street prestige. The exception to this comes from his daughter, Peggy (Lucy Gallina), who starts seeing just who her father really is as well as the company he keeps. This follows an incident where the boss at her part-time job at a grocery store presumably "pushed" her. Frank retaliates by violently assaulting him in front of her well beyond a reasonable threshold. After this, Peggy looks at her father through suspicious eyes, awakened to just what kind of monster he, Russell, and his associates are.
The real catalyst that transforms Frank's life comes from an invitation via Russell to do the dirty work for none other than Jimmy Hoffa. During their initial phone conversation, Hoffa mentions to Frank that he hears that he "paints houses"--a euphemism for killing people. Frank knows this, and affirms that whatever Hoffa needs done, he can do. Although Frank begins his ascent into organized crime for personal gain, working alongside the head of the Teamsters--an organization to which Frank proudly belongs--appeals to his ego. Frank describes Jimmy Hoffa as being both bigger than Elvis and The Beatles, and is aware that "these days", no one remembers who he was. Frank's talents are praised to Jimmy Hoffa, who--like with Russell--sees his capacity to do whatever it takes to get a job done. Jimmy Hoffa's popularity skyrockets, and everything seems to be running smoothly between the Teamsters and the mob. But Hoffa's ego begins to grow to astronomical proportions, which in turn threatens the mob, and they put Russell in charge of containing the situation. Russell then makes Frank a go-between, leaving him stuck playing mediator between the hot-headed union boss and the Italian mob bosses--a skill that is outside of Frank's proverbial wheelhouse. Before long, Hoffa and the mob are at loggerheads, and Russell informs Frank that "something must be done", putting Frank's loyalties to both of his friends on the chopping block.
The thrill of Scorsese's mob films is not about waiting for some moment of contrition to emerge from its protagonists, but in watching just how far the chaos will go as it spirals out of control, and how such a life can wreak devastating havoc on everything and everyone around them. In this way, like with Goodfellas, Casino, and more, The Irishman is a morality tale, highlighting the perils of a life given over to vice and crime. And like many Scorsese crime dramas, The Irishman is filled with villainous characters who do not engender sympathy, sharing more than a few other similarities with Goodfellas. (There is even a scene that takes place at the Copacabana.) One crucial example of this emerges during a road trip Frank and Russell take with their wives to Detroit, under the auspices of attending the wedding of Russell's cousin, Bill Bufalino (Ray Romano). A discussion occurs between the two men about the inevitable killing of someone en route; yet words like "kill" or "murder" are thoroughly avoided, even by these hardened criminals, rendering the whole conversation even more detached and cold than it already is. Frank is not a "native" Italian mobster, but he is brought into the proverbial family and finds great personal and financial success there. Yet there is always the sense that he is always considered an outsider with more to prove than anyone else. In Frank's case, this often leads to him being exploited to do the dirty work, and always seeming to seek acknowledgment for it. Frank becomes nervous when he isn't able to talk his way out of a tight spot, which causes him to stutter. This frequently emerges during an extended period of time where he is constantly going between Russell and Hoffa, unsuccessfully trying to cool the flames of contention between them, sparked by Hoffa's feud with a rival Teamster and mob caporegime named Anthony "Tony Pro" Provenzano (Stephen Graham). This tension comes to a head at a celebration for Frank where Hoffa gives a speech in his honor, yet Hoffa is afterward confronted by Russell about his seemingly "ungrateful" behavior toward the mob. Both Russell and Jimmy Hoffa unabashedly manipulate Frank here, vying for his loyalty in this key moment, knowing that whoever gets Frank in their corner will come out on top.
As with criticisms about the nonfiction book that was adapted into The Irishman, there is an unmistakable sense that Frank Sheeran may not be a reliable storyteller. He always seems to find himself at key moments in history à la Forrest Gump--not least of which is in his relationship with Jimmy Hoffa, who famously vanished in 1975 without a trace. Consider an incident where Frank unwittingly takes part in a CIA operation to attempt to overthrow Castro at the Bufalino family's behest. And Frank also recalls how he assassinated "Crazy" Joe Gallo (Sebastian Maniscalco) single-handedly, even though other accounts pin the killing on a group of four other gunmen. The question always lingers as to just how reliable--if at all--Frank Sheeran was. Is the testimony he offers up to us merely the last desperate effort of an old man recounting a life that has lost all purpose? When Frank is first introduced, it is after a slow tracking shot that leads to him sitting in a chair, alone in an elderly care facility. While Frank had the companionship of many famous people and commanded respect (if not fear), he can now barely walk without the aid of a pair of canes. His family has all but deserted him, including an older Peggy (Anna Paquin), who won't even acknowledge him when he visits her at the bank where she works. Death is closing in on Frank faster and faster, and there is no one around him who isn't there because it's their job--even a priest who fruitlessly encourages Frank to beg forgiveness for his sins. But Frank has always been an unrepentant sinner; he can't see past his own desire to commit crimes, and doesn't genuinely regret the pain he has inflicted on the path to get what he wants. When at last Frank asks the priest to leave his door ajar before he leaves, it is because he is afraid that if it were closed, he would be forgotten and vanish without a trace, like his friend Jimmy Hoffa, because he has nothing left to show at the end of his life. They say that time heals all wounds; but for Frank, each passing year renders him more and more insignificant.
Recommended for: Fans of a contemplative crime drama about the wages of sin and the lasting cost of living a life of self-delusion and violence, as well as a movie that explores a period in history itself fading into obscurity. At three and a half hours, The Irishman is best suited for audiences that are prepared to allow the full story to wash over them--or perhaps audiences comfortable viewing the film over a couple of days. Additionally, it is bountiful with profound language and violence, rendering it only appropriate for adults.
The real catalyst that transforms Frank's life comes from an invitation via Russell to do the dirty work for none other than Jimmy Hoffa. During their initial phone conversation, Hoffa mentions to Frank that he hears that he "paints houses"--a euphemism for killing people. Frank knows this, and affirms that whatever Hoffa needs done, he can do. Although Frank begins his ascent into organized crime for personal gain, working alongside the head of the Teamsters--an organization to which Frank proudly belongs--appeals to his ego. Frank describes Jimmy Hoffa as being both bigger than Elvis and The Beatles, and is aware that "these days", no one remembers who he was. Frank's talents are praised to Jimmy Hoffa, who--like with Russell--sees his capacity to do whatever it takes to get a job done. Jimmy Hoffa's popularity skyrockets, and everything seems to be running smoothly between the Teamsters and the mob. But Hoffa's ego begins to grow to astronomical proportions, which in turn threatens the mob, and they put Russell in charge of containing the situation. Russell then makes Frank a go-between, leaving him stuck playing mediator between the hot-headed union boss and the Italian mob bosses--a skill that is outside of Frank's proverbial wheelhouse. Before long, Hoffa and the mob are at loggerheads, and Russell informs Frank that "something must be done", putting Frank's loyalties to both of his friends on the chopping block.
The thrill of Scorsese's mob films is not about waiting for some moment of contrition to emerge from its protagonists, but in watching just how far the chaos will go as it spirals out of control, and how such a life can wreak devastating havoc on everything and everyone around them. In this way, like with Goodfellas, Casino, and more, The Irishman is a morality tale, highlighting the perils of a life given over to vice and crime. And like many Scorsese crime dramas, The Irishman is filled with villainous characters who do not engender sympathy, sharing more than a few other similarities with Goodfellas. (There is even a scene that takes place at the Copacabana.) One crucial example of this emerges during a road trip Frank and Russell take with their wives to Detroit, under the auspices of attending the wedding of Russell's cousin, Bill Bufalino (Ray Romano). A discussion occurs between the two men about the inevitable killing of someone en route; yet words like "kill" or "murder" are thoroughly avoided, even by these hardened criminals, rendering the whole conversation even more detached and cold than it already is. Frank is not a "native" Italian mobster, but he is brought into the proverbial family and finds great personal and financial success there. Yet there is always the sense that he is always considered an outsider with more to prove than anyone else. In Frank's case, this often leads to him being exploited to do the dirty work, and always seeming to seek acknowledgment for it. Frank becomes nervous when he isn't able to talk his way out of a tight spot, which causes him to stutter. This frequently emerges during an extended period of time where he is constantly going between Russell and Hoffa, unsuccessfully trying to cool the flames of contention between them, sparked by Hoffa's feud with a rival Teamster and mob caporegime named Anthony "Tony Pro" Provenzano (Stephen Graham). This tension comes to a head at a celebration for Frank where Hoffa gives a speech in his honor, yet Hoffa is afterward confronted by Russell about his seemingly "ungrateful" behavior toward the mob. Both Russell and Jimmy Hoffa unabashedly manipulate Frank here, vying for his loyalty in this key moment, knowing that whoever gets Frank in their corner will come out on top.
As with criticisms about the nonfiction book that was adapted into The Irishman, there is an unmistakable sense that Frank Sheeran may not be a reliable storyteller. He always seems to find himself at key moments in history à la Forrest Gump--not least of which is in his relationship with Jimmy Hoffa, who famously vanished in 1975 without a trace. Consider an incident where Frank unwittingly takes part in a CIA operation to attempt to overthrow Castro at the Bufalino family's behest. And Frank also recalls how he assassinated "Crazy" Joe Gallo (Sebastian Maniscalco) single-handedly, even though other accounts pin the killing on a group of four other gunmen. The question always lingers as to just how reliable--if at all--Frank Sheeran was. Is the testimony he offers up to us merely the last desperate effort of an old man recounting a life that has lost all purpose? When Frank is first introduced, it is after a slow tracking shot that leads to him sitting in a chair, alone in an elderly care facility. While Frank had the companionship of many famous people and commanded respect (if not fear), he can now barely walk without the aid of a pair of canes. His family has all but deserted him, including an older Peggy (Anna Paquin), who won't even acknowledge him when he visits her at the bank where she works. Death is closing in on Frank faster and faster, and there is no one around him who isn't there because it's their job--even a priest who fruitlessly encourages Frank to beg forgiveness for his sins. But Frank has always been an unrepentant sinner; he can't see past his own desire to commit crimes, and doesn't genuinely regret the pain he has inflicted on the path to get what he wants. When at last Frank asks the priest to leave his door ajar before he leaves, it is because he is afraid that if it were closed, he would be forgotten and vanish without a trace, like his friend Jimmy Hoffa, because he has nothing left to show at the end of his life. They say that time heals all wounds; but for Frank, each passing year renders him more and more insignificant.
Recommended for: Fans of a contemplative crime drama about the wages of sin and the lasting cost of living a life of self-delusion and violence, as well as a movie that explores a period in history itself fading into obscurity. At three and a half hours, The Irishman is best suited for audiences that are prepared to allow the full story to wash over them--or perhaps audiences comfortable viewing the film over a couple of days. Additionally, it is bountiful with profound language and violence, rendering it only appropriate for adults.