Based on a true story, a hitman for the mob looks back at his life and the events that shaped him in The Irishman.
One-sentence review: The Irishman combines the meditative pace of Silence, the sharp humor and style of The Wolf of Wall Street, and the narrative of Martin Scorsese’s greatest gangster movies to form a self-reflective magnum opus.
Details: ? Martin Scorsese // ?? U.S. // ⏳ 209 minutes
The cast: Robert DeNiro, Joe Pesci, Al Pacino
Where to watch The Irishman: In theaters November 2nd. On Netflix November 27.
The Irishman feels like a culmination of all the films that came before it in Martin Scorsese’s filmography. You can piece it together from his various projects. It’s deliberately paced and meditative like Silence with a sharp sense of humor like The Wolf of Wall Street. The plot treads close to any of his classic gangster movies and it grapples with toxic masculinity like many of his movies, but Taxi Driver feels like the closest comparison. It feels like an epilogue to his storied career — but it also makes clear that Marty is far from being obsolete.
Getting the mob back together
If the 2010s have shown us anything, it’s that Scorsese isn’t done experimenting and trying new things. As much as this feels like a Scorsese picture, it’s more like it’s influenced by his past work rather than trying to recreate it — even though it reunites him with old collaborators Robert DeNiro and Joe Pesci.
The movie, stitched together by long-time editor Thelma Schoonmaker, follows Frank “The Irishman” Sheeran (DeNiro) as he recounts his life as a hitman for Russell Bufalino (Pesci) and his entire organization. The decades-spanning narrative, which required them to digitally de-age the actors, covers Sheeran’s beginning as a small-time criminal stealing meat off of butcher trucks to his fateful meeting Russell to his friendship with famed and bombastic labor union leader Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino).
Brilliantly, the movie jumps around in time and feels like it rambles at times — just like you’d expect an old man to talk about the events in his life. The formlessness of the narrative is both an asset and a liability. An asset because it really feels like you’re talking to someone about their life. A liability because you do feel the 3 ½ hour runtime at points.
Balancing crime with comedy and character
However, it is also often hilarious with killer (pun intended) timing that you’re able to get through the rough patches with ease. The movie especially shines when Sheeran becomes a confidant for Hoffa, who Pacino plays with all the bombast and energy you’d expect him to deliver in a Scorsese movie — shockingly, this is his first time working with the director. There’s plenty of wise guy talk, politicking between various groups, and mob-antics that go wrong and some that go right — everything you’d expect Scorsese to cover. It’s the way he covers it that makes The Irishman special.
Robert DeNiro hasn’t been this good in years in his role as Frank. And while many people were tepid on the decision to use the same actors to play characters over a span of decades, it pays off. It makes each character, especially Frank, feel lived in. You feel the toll of every sin he commits weight on him and on his daughter Peggy (a criminally underused Anna Paquin) as time goes by.
It’s difficult to describe the plot because the movie is essentially structure-less, but the main throughline of the film is Frank’s relationships with Russell and Jimmy and his lack of a relationship with his family. In so many mob movies, including Scorsese’s, the men operate unchecked and without moral consequence. The Irishman attempts to reckon with the emotional impact of being in the mob. It’s a welcome change of pace late in the movie.
The Irishman ends up being greater than the sum of its parts. It could have been easily cut down and end with the same effect, but each part in a vacuum works so well that it’s easy to overlook. Oddly, I think this movie will play well on Netflix versus a theater. It’s a movie that will immerse you either way.
Hey, I'm Karl, founder and film critic at Smash Cut. I started Smash Cut in 2014 to share my love of movies and give a perspective I haven't yet seen represented. I'm also an editor at The New York Times, a Rotten Tomatoes-approved critic, and a member of the Online Film Critics Society.
“Marty”?
Are you friends with him? Otherwise, don’t do that.