The Irishman
Martin Scorsese's decades-spanning tale of Frank Sheeran, a WW2 veteran in Philidelphia, whose fatalistic world-view sees him go from being a blue-collar truck driver to 'painting houses' for the Italian mob, is a very low-key film compared to his other gangster sagas, but it's still powered by exceptional performances from the main leads. Much has been made of Al Pacino's typically bombastic turn as Teamsters union boss Jimmy Hoffa and Joe Pesci as the genteel-yet-ruthless crime boss, but it's absolutely De Niro's film. With Based Bobby having made some extremely questionable role choices in recent years, it's almost a shock to see him right back at the top of his game, both witty in his confessional narration throughout the eras, and genuinely affecting through the wordless gaps inbetween.
There's also a strong sense of self-reflection on Scorsese's part. While the film is often playful, this feels like a much truer depiction of life as a small-time gangster than anything he's done before. Even if Sheeran's criminal activities allow him to live comfortably, the Scorsese takes great pains to avoid painting this (no pun intended) as in any way glamorous. Sheeran's life is dominated by long, banal stretches of having to watch over the people above him, without ever being put on their level. It's hardly a coincidence that the film is built around a long car journey he and Pesci make between states, punctuated by rest stops and constant cigarette breaks, purely because Pesci doesn't want their wives to smoke in his car.
Much has already been made of the fancy special effects work used to de-age the lead actors, but probably the best thing you could say about it is that it's not intrusive. Technology has advanced fantastically since the plastic-wrapped Jeff Bridges in Tron: Legacy, but while it takes a good 30-odd years off De Niro (on whom it's used most), even at his most CGI-enhanced, he never really looks like the 20-something version of himself he's supposed to be, perhaps because images of him at that age are still so much part of our collective media consciousness.
Ultimately though, while I completely understand why the film has been met with such near-universal critical acclaim, I would have to admit that I do miss the kind of electricity and dynamism that so marks out Scorsese's earlier movies. This is a mannered, subtle film that excels at what it does, but if you ask me what I'd rather rewatch right now, I'm afraid I'd still take Goodfellas.