The Irishman was nominated for 10 Oscars and won none; this as a sentence truly baffles me, completely, wholly, unbearably so. I wish to frame this article in relation to the many unbearable critiques that people pointed out to me with this film (and yes, I understand opinions), because for me each one rang unbearably false and untrue. When people talked about the length of the film, I relayed that I don’t think a film since the epics of the 60’s and 70’s has justified its length better. When people talked about the pacing of the film and the plotting, I relayed that I felt Steve Zallian’s screenplay was one of the finest scripts of the decade, exemplifying an exemplary talent for structure, narrative and the delivery of exposition. These are all of course opinions, but I do genuinely believe that people’s largest flaws with the film were unbearably incorrect, and although some things are wholly subjective, critism being the chief of them all, I seriously believe that as years go by people will return to The Irishman and realise exactly the sort of masterpiece they more or less tossed aside. On return people I feel will agree with me and find that 0 wins from 10 nominations, no matter the strength of the year, is a truly baffling thing indeed.

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I don’t think a single person in the film community wasn’t interested to see The Irishman as soon as it was available to be seen, this was for a litany of reasons, some positive, some negative. Or less negative, but rather deeply intrigued. For as much as the story of The Irishman in the movie press was the story of Scorsese returning to the world of the mafia with Joe Pesci and Robert De Niro, it was also the story of his first time working with Al Pacino. This immense triptych of talent was enough to salivate any film fan’s taste buds and the fact that no performance failed to deliver just solidifies the legacies of these three American icons, aswell of course Scorsese once again proving his almost ungodly talents. De Niro is our titular Irishman, yes, Robert De Niro is Irish and bar one scene where his knowledge of Italy is actually discussed, you really don’t give it a second thought. Much is the same case with Al Pacino as Jimmy Hoffa. Both performances are so stellar and believable that one doesn’t even consider nationality as a factor to the performance, perhaps a different film may have made it a more core element, but that isn’t the case here and I don’t think the film suffers for it. Steve Zallian’s screenplay adaptation of Charles Brandt’s non-fiction chronicling of Frank Sheehan’s admission to the murder of Hoffa, a mystery long unsolved in the crime world, is a tale that spans decades and many relationships but does have at its core three fundamental figures who enter in and out of each other’s lives; De Niro’s Sheehan, Pacino’s Hoffa and Pesci’s Bufalino.  The matter of the wide span of years the film chronicles leads to the other pivotal aspect of the films press, the use of CGI to alter the faces of its many stars to appear younger.  For me the CGI fundamentally does work and allows the story to be told in the most effective way possible, with the same actors traversing decades and decades together hurdling towards each of their unbearably tragic ends. If we exchanged younger actors in the early scenes, I really do feel that a serious detachment would occur and the film would become just as episodic as other films that do these major casting changes. The Irishman wouldn’t work anywhere near aswell if we didn’t have the relationships we have not only with the characters, but with the actors playing their characters.  

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When the film first came out the main argument I was constantly met with surrounded the length of the film and I just about bit my knuckle like Sonny Corleone as many times as a man can. I wrote about the length of The Irishman in an article I released last year about the running times in general, in that I commented on the nature of the films length and how it was genuinely fundamental; “There is always something daunting about a long running time, especially in this current climate of films. I know of many who never watched The Godfather films due to their length, and many who immediately dismissed The Irishman on its length alone, also dismissing the immense pedigree of the talent involved. But why? What is so daunting about a long running time? Especially in this era of home viewing where technically you could view the film in multiple sittings. However, I have to strongly advise against this practice. I viewed The Irishman for the first time in the cinema in one sitting (with one momentary bathroom break), and it was the absolute perfect way to watch that film. I was reminded of Robert Evan’s decision making regarding the possibility of an intermission in the first Godfather film. At the time of 1972 it was hither to unheard of to have a film of over two and a half hours without an intermission. Such was going to be the case with The Godfather, with the placement of an intermission following the Sollazo murder. Evans ultimately went against this as he felt the intense momentum caused by the killing would be completely lost with the addition of a ten-minute interval. I feel this way with Scorsese’s latest; by viewing the film as a whole, then you are embarking on the journey of Frank Sheeran and you are not allowed to leave it and as we view his life deteriorate around him, we feel every moment more strongly. With intermissions this would be undoubtedly lost”. The power of The Irishman is that we are on a train that we can’t stop, there are no intermissions and no episode breaks and hence we have to simply sit back and view as this American tragedy unfolds.

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I refer to the power of context in this articles’ title because I feel like this film is only enhanced by its position in the Scorsese cannon. Aswell as bringing whole new elements to the Scorsese cannon, it also takes a fresh and distinctly different look at many elements that we have seen before, aswell as perverting them in major ways. Casino and Goodfellas both gave us time to enjoy and revel in the glamour, wealth and family attitude of the mob lifestyle with repeated incredible pop tracks along the way. Irishman does have moments of all those things, but instead rather places itself in a world of work and drudgery, with in the introduction of a droning and truly painful guitar based score by Robbie Robertson. Whereas Casino ends abruptly at the end of the Vegas part of De Niro’s life and Goodfellas ending with the ambiguously dull existence of Ray Liotta, The Irishman stays with its characters long, long after where those films placed their credits. We see in excruciating detail the true effect that Sheehan’s life had on those around him and how it all led to an unbearably bleak conclusion at the end of his life. For me the final frame of this film is not just one of Scorsese’s best, but one of the most elegantly framed and poignant images of cinema in some recent memory, all expertly devised by the films legendary cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto. A stark and deeply painful image that is underscored by the films intrinsic third use of The Five Satin’s In the Still of the Night. Gone are the days of earlier Scorsese where we get great song brilliantly used scene after scene, no here we have to return to the beautiful ballad whose lyrics of loneliness and hurt haunt the film like a looming dread.

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Many have commented on how it’s astounding that Martin Scorsese is still making true masterpieces in the world of cinema at his age and time in his life, but it really doesn’t surprise me anymore, and I can feel safe sitting down for a Scorsese film knowing that if not a masterpiece, I will certainly receive a film of immense and triumphant quality, The Irishman is such a film of immense and triumphant quality, another true masterpiece. The triptych of De Niro, Pacino and Pesci brings us once more into the world of the mafia through Scorseses’s lens, but here we remain long after the end of a Casino or Goodfellas, we remain to see the true effect of what goes on after the cameras cuts in those films. Where a hit took sometimes a minute in those films, we remain and we see the painstaking planning and take about fifty minutes and the film is all the more devastating because of it. There is humour and joy, but there is no glamour. There is drama, but there is no relief to it. There is tragedy and tragedy alone. I do firmly believe that The Irishman will rightly go down as one of the finest films of the decade and if it do be Scorseses’s swan song to the mafia in his films, it is certainly a transcendent and powerful study to close that chapter of his career.

-       -   Thomas Carruthers