The Irishman

Now for Netflix's biggest film of the year.

That film is Martin Scorsese's long-awaited and long in-development tale of The Irishman. Steven Zaillian's screenplay reworks Charles Brandt's book I Heard You Paint Houses, a biography of hitman Frank "The Irishman" Sheeran, into cinematic form. It all unfolds over a titanic 209 minute runtime. Hopefully, this review will take not even a quarter of that to read.

Around the 1950s, Sheeran (Robert De Niro) is a truck driver for a meat-packing company. His load vanishes one day, but lawyer Bill Bufalino (Ray Romano) gets him cleared of theft. Afterwards, Bufalino's cousin, Mafia Don Russell (Joe Pesci) decides to induct him into his services. This includes "painting houses" with blood. He gets the attention of top Teamster Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), who wants his help dealing with his enemies. Whether it be an annoying taxi company or Attorney General Robert Kennedy (Jack Huston).

After Hoffa's arrest and later pardon, his first priority is to go back on top. He doesn't care who he irritates along the way. Unfortunately for him, the irritated include the organized crime world. Russell tells Sheeran to tell Hoffa to keep it down. But he won't. This all culminates in Sheeran's explanation for Hoffa's disappearance in 1975. Yes, Sheeran's explanation. The original book's historical accuracy has been disputed. But the film's technical goodness is not.

Its most highly publicized technical feat is its visual effects. The visual effects that de-age Pacino, De Niro and Pesci by a good thirty or so years. At first, you might spend time looking for the seams. You'll later stop and ask yourself "what seams?" The digital makeup job is so great you can ignore any seams. No wonder this movie cost $175 million.

The screenplay has a lot to take in. We have Sheeran discussing his life with an unseen character (Brandt, maybe?). There's also Sheeran and Russell driving with their wives to Bill's daughter's wedding. Sheeran also tries to reconcile with his daughter, Peggy (a mostly mute Anna Paquin as an adult), who disapproves of her father's lifestyle (See his altercation with a local grocer). And of course, there's Sheeran's rise to power. Juggling between timelines can sometimes feel jarring. The film moves pretty quickly in its first half. It only strains at the last half-hour; it could've shaved that much.

Now for the cast. De Niro perfectly plays Sheeran as a tough, but sensitive man. Pacino's Hoffa is a well-meaning man whose ego is his biggest weakness. I mean, he's not that contrite when he asks a guy he previously insulted for union support. Pesci is subdued, but formidable as Russell Buffalino. It's easy to get lost amongst the film's mammoth supporting cast. Fortunately, a few of them have captions explaining their ultimate fates. It's even easier to not recognize some actors; some examples include Harvey Keitel as Don Angelo Bruno and Bobby Cannavale as his hitman, Felix.

The Irishman lives up to its hype. The digital fountain of youth is just as good as Marvel's. Its violence is mundane and brutal. Its runtime is a bit excessive. It's an interesting story about the futility of criminal life.  It's still worth a watch even if you have to take breaks. I did. It's playing at some theaters across the country. But they won't let you pause the movie. I'll let you decide where to see it.