«The Irishman», life and death of underworld gods

Saturday's Netflix & chill - Ivan Garcia

Released on Netflix on November 27, Martin Scorsese's latest feature follows the life story of Frank Sheeran, a former hitman for the Italian-American mafia. In this long film, with its multiple characters and levels of narration, the director weaves together the testimony of a man and an era, within a great mythology of the underworld. Here's how.  

In an American nursing home, Frank Sheeran, a man with a troubled past, tells his story on camera. Through numerous close-ups, the viewer follows the elderly man—dapperly dressed and wearing sunglasses—as he recounts his past, particularly his time as a hitman working for the Bufalino crime family. The protagonist, Sheeran, is nicknamed «The Irishman» by this criminal underworld, where everyone has an alias.

Before he got his start in the underworld, Frank was a humble truck driver affiliated with the Teamsters – the American truck drivers« union, and explains how, after his truck breaks down at a Pennsylvania highway rest stop, he briefly meets a man named Russell Bufalino. The latter, who is in fact a powerful Italian mob boss, meets Frank several times and eventually hires him to »paint houses” (editor’s note: a mob expression used in the film to refer to a murder). Over time, Russell and Frank develop a close, friendly—even brotherly—relationship. With Russell’s help, the protagonist becomes the bodyguard and assistant to Jimmy Hoffa, the president of the Teamsters, about whom the film offers a strange theory regarding his (real) disappearance…

From Book to Screen

The story that Martin Scorsese brings to the screen is, in a sense, a rewriting and adaptation of a book published in 2004 in the United States, titled I Heard You Paint Houses: Frank “The Irishman” Sheeran and Closing the Case on Jimmy Hoffa. Written by American journalist and author Charles Brandt, the book chronicles the life of a man named Francis Joseph Sheeran and his ties to the Bufalino family, particularly in connection with the mysterious disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa.

In short, the film offers us an alternative take on reality; most of the characters who appear on screen—especially the mobsters, such as Tony Provenzano, Joe Gallo, Jimmy Hoffa, Russell Bufalino, and, of course, Frank Sheeran—actually existed and played major roles in the mob world.

However, while the book follows a linear, chronological progression, the film opts for a multi-layered narrative structure. The first narrative and temporal layer is the account told by old Frank in his nursing home; the second is Frank and Russell’s trip, accompanied by their two wives, to attend a wedding; the third is Frank Sheeran’s autobiographical account, from his early days as a delivery driver until he embarks on the journey with Russell. In fact, toward the last third of the film, the three levels converge and ultimately return to the nursing home and the elderly Frank. While this interplay between the different narrative levels is beautiful and subtle, it sometimes fails to make sense to the viewer, who struggles to keep track of all the names and faces of the myriad characters that Scorsese incorporates into his film. 

Toward a Mafia Hall of Fame

As mentioned earlier, the film’s greatest strength and weakness lie in its large cast of characters. Faced with so many names, annotations, and indirect references, the viewer sometimes loses their bearings, especially when these characters have not yet appeared on screen, given the different time frames employed by the narrative.

But as we know, Martin Scorsese loves icons and powerful images. With The Irishman, he paints an uncompromising picture of the criminal underworld in the neighborhood of Little Italy and its evolution—both in terms of material culture and social norms—throughout the twentieth century. And all this, not without a few nods to gangster movies. When I saw Russel Bufalino, I couldn’t help but think of the old godfather, Vito Corleone, from the famous Sponsor by Francis Ford Coppola. The fact is that the figure of the gangster, the mafioso, haunts our imagination with his image of gunslinger family values.

Each character, in fact, has a memorable way of moving and a distinctive style of dress that leaves a lasting impression on the viewer. But, faced with so many crime lords, two questions kept nagging at me: to whom—and for what reasons—does Frank Sheeran speak? Frank, a true warrior-Hercules and a ruthless mercenary, generally speaks very little, and above all, we know nothing about his past—neither exactly what he did in the war nor about his childhood. But it would seem that, toward the end of his life, the old man decides to open up about his sins. To whom? Would he confide, for example, in a priest? To his daughters? To a third party—the viewer? The question remains unanswered and is—alas—a matter of personal interpretation.

The Irishman is a film that will appeal to movie lovers of all stripes. Though sometimes confusing, we can’t help but get caught up in all the conspiracies and intrigues of the underworld. Lurking in the shadows, just like Frank during his missions, viewers witness the evolution and final requiem of the pantheon of underground crime lords.

Write to the author: ivan.garcia@leregardlibre.com

Photo credit: © Netflix