Houses painted, taxis washed, presidents shot: a review of The Irishman

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The Irishman

Directed by Martin Scorsese

Produced by

Martin Scorsese

Robert De Niro

Jane Rosenthal

Emma Tillinger Koskoff

Irwin Winkler

Gerald Chamales

Gastón Pavlovich

Randall Emmett

Gabriele Israilovici

Screenplay by Steven Zaillian

Based on I Heard You Paint Houses by Charles Brandt

Cast

Robert De Niro as Frank Sheeran

Al Pacino as Jimmy Hoffa

Joe Pesci as Russell Bufalino

Ray Romano as Bill Bufalino

Bobby Cannavale as Skinny Razor

Anna Paquin as Peggy Sheeran

Lucy Gallina as young Peggy

Stephen Graham as Anthony “Tony Pro” Provenzano

Harvey Keitel as Angelo Bruno

Stephanie Kurtzuba as Irene Sheeran

Kathrine Narducci as Carrie Bufalino

Welker White as Josephine “Jo” Hoffa

Jesse Plemons as Chuckie O’Brien

Jack Huston as Robert Kennedy

Domenick Lombardozzi as “Fat” Tony Salerno

Paul Herman as Whispers DiTullio

Louis Cancelmi as Salvatore “Sally Bugs” Briguglio

Gary Basaraba as Frank “Fitz” Fitzsimmons

Marin Ireland as Dolores Sheeran

India Ennenga as young Dolores

Sebastian Maniscalco as “Crazy” Joe Gallo

Aleksa Palladino as Mary Sheeran

Kevin O’Rourke as John McCullough

J. C. MacKenzie as Jim Neal

Larry Romano as Philip Testa

Louis Vanaria as David Ferrie

Jennifer Mudge as Maryanne Sheeran

Tess Price as young Maryanne Sheeran

Kate Arrington as Connie Sheeran

Jordyn DiNatale as young Connie Sheeran

Garry Pastore as Albert Anastasia

John Scurti as Bertram B. Beveridge

Steve Witting as William Miller

Stephen Mailer as F. Emmett Fitzpatrick

Jeremy Luke as Marco Rossi

Steven Van Zandt as Jerry Vale

This is a monumental movie. There’s no other word for it. Spanning five decades, with a cast of hundreds (just the roles that matter in any way!), and covering some of the biggest events in the history of the United States, this epic three and a half hour movie is a capstone achievement for Martin Scorsese, Robert De Niro, Ray Romano, Joe Pesci, Harvey Keitel and dozens of others with illustrious careers thrust suddenly into The Irishman.

The story, based on the novel The House Painter, focuses on Frank Sheeran (De Niro), a truck driver who starts selling meat on the side to mobsters, and when popped by his employers for the theft, is defended by a union lawyer Bill Bufalino (Ray Romano) who gets him acquitted, and who in turn introduces him to his brother Russell (Joe Pesci) who then introduces him to Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino). Sheeran and Hoffa hit it off, and Sheeran becomes Hoffa’s bodyguard and eventually his confidante and “make it happen” guy. But Sheeran is still very much a part of the mob, and owes honor debt to Bill and Russell Bufalino.

Tensions between the mob and Hoffa become increasingly wrought, especially following the election of John Kennedy and the appointment of Robert Kennedy, who proceeds to go after the Teamsters, Hoffa in particular. Hoffa is second only to JFK in terms of recognizability and popularity, so it is a deeply divisive battle. Scorsese avoids speculation as to the exact circumstances behind the Kennedy assassination, but on the day following, Hoffa exits the Teamsters’ headquarters, glances up to see the flag at half-mast over the building, and storms in to have it raised to full mast.

It’s this sort of egregious and sometimes vicious showboating by Hoffa that puts him at odds with the mob, who are secretly relieved when he is sent to prison for jury tampering. (Note to Republicans: Yes, that actually is a crime, even if the guy who does it is popular and powerful). The mob take advantage of Hoffa’s absence to encroach on Teamster administration, and take control of much of the multi-billion-dollar pension fund.

Hoffa comes out prepared to wage war against the mob, going so far as to make “I have insurance” type threats against them.

This puts Sheeran in an untenable position, being a high ranking member of the mob, on the verge of being made a capo, and simultaneously being Hoffa’s counsel and protector.

Scorsese has been accused, with some justification, of glamorizing the mob life in his previous movies. In this film, he doesn’t do that. Oh, there is action, violence, glamor and intrigue aplenty. He evokes the usual cheers for sociopathic murderers. But there is a note, subtle at first, that grows to envelope the entire gestalt of the movie. Frank learns that his younger daughter Peggy, a seemingly minor role played as a child by Lucy Gallina, was shoved by a local grocer irate when she knocked over a display. With her in tow, Frank accosts the grocer, beating him and then dragging him to the curb where he stomps on and mutilates the grocer’s hand.

Now clear-eyed about the true nature of her father, she is a subtle but very telling barometer of the social and moral decay the exciting and vicious lifestyle is causing in Frank and everyone around him. It comes to a head when the adult Peggy (Anna Pacquin) becomes completely estranged from him, I would say what the final precipitating event is, but that would be a spoiler. Highlighting the loneliness and sad desperation of his life, Gallina and Pacquin turn in wonderfully subtle and nuanced performances, standing out even in this stellar cast.

Much has been said about the ‘de-aging’ of many of the cast members, most in their sixties and seventies and appearing as thirty and even twenty somethings. It is jarring when a new cast member comes on screen, and you think, “Holy hell, that’s {De Niro, Pacino, Pesci, Romano, Keitel}” Nearly all of them are retirement age in real life. But after the first moments of startled disbelief, it works. You don’t see any artifacts, the actors are…well, them. You don’t even notice the sheer impossibility of their appearance after the first few moments.

Part of it is the bravura acting jobs that they all turn in. Combined with a very strong plot and brilliant directing, this is a masterwork of a movie, one destined for the Hall of Fame and perhaps the very best mob movie ever made—not to mention a deeply compelling story of humanity, love and betrayal, war and history, and in the end, a deeply moving look at the hopelessness and futility of the mob life, and how little it all means at the end, when life is measured by IV drips and the confused solicitous nurse, who vaguely sorta knows who Jimmy Hoffa was.

If there is a movie you absolutely have to see this year, this is it.

Now on Netflix.