Martin Scorsese
The Irishman

Long. Very. Too much.

Full of references to the gang story from the '50s to the '80s of the 20th century and North American politics, the film remains difficult for someone, like me, who approaches it as an Italian believing they are going to see a genre novel. First attempt failed, after half an hour of viewing, I turn it off, disheartened and shocked by the feeling of watching two of the three greatest contemporary Hollywood actors struggle in embarrassing performances as old stars as much irreducible as they are pathetic.

I try again two days later, armed with goodwill because “Scorsese is Scorsese.” Well, I watch it all (in two evenings) and despite gaps in the story and constant introductions of new characters that temporarily make me lose the thread, I appreciate the work. A film, however, that sometimes gives the impression of déjà vu, for behaviors and killings.

But is it a film or a documentary? A middle ground, probably, based on a biography, for some not a hundred percent truthful, of a guy who goes from being a truck driver to becoming a big shot in the most powerful American union of the time, making his way through behaviors like a Yesman and many contract killings.

Scorsese's attempt is to reconstruct history between the mafia, U.S. presidents, events of national and international significance, and it's not up to me to say whether he hit the mark.

I know I’ve watched three actors who moved me just by watching them act, and in this film, beyond the differences in success and careers, I place Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, and Joe Pesci on the same level. And I’ll say that I liked the latter the most in terms of interpretation, certainly aided, in the Italian version, by a voice actor with a tone that fits both the actor and the character he represents like a glove.

Then the scenography (those cars that drive you crazy), the typical Martin soundtrack with more or less known songs, but all very American, the dialogues. From whom did Tarantino learn?

The rejuvenation technique? We can be amazed, irritated, shiver: I think it's yet another innovation compared to when films were made with plastic models of spaceships or a road shot on a screen behind a stationary car with actors on board. It might not appeal, but so be it, and no one will stop technology. Novelty pleases or outrages in the moment, then it's absorbed and becomes standard.

What matters to an Italian and what remains of Sheeran, Hoffa, Bufalino, and the various known or unknown gangsters orbiting around them, other than the awareness of a rotten and brutal world of those times? [Attention, editor's note: today's world is still rotten and brutal, but in different ways].

American stories, and for Americans, the verdict on whether the story is plausible and whether Scorsese got certain versions of what really happened right. This doesn’t influence me.

This film should be taken as it is, a concentrate of 30-40 years that poorly synthesizes into 209 minutes, which is many, too many, to keep interest and concentration high.

Yes, I think the only real flaw is just this: the result of Scorsese's ambition to explain too much, wanting to make the last epic work and, as happened to other Greats, wanting to take the last step that is too long for the leg, witnessing the collapse of what, with more humility, could truly have been the swan song.

Only the respect for this Great Director makes me advise ardent cinephiles to see it, to see it anyway.