The Irishman - I Heard You Paint Houses

"I'm a little bit concerned..."

As a movie fan, I've spent a long time kneeling at the altar of Goodfellas. The dynamic energy and visual punch of that film is nothing short of iconic. So no shocker that I've been among the legion of Martin Scorsese fans chomping at the bit to get a look at his return to the mob genre.

Produced by Netflix, The Irishman debuts on that platform on the 27th, but I'm lucky enough to live in a town where it was booked in an actual theater, because it just feels wrong to see a Scorsese picture on TV for the first time. So cue the sound of squealing tires, there was no way I was missing this!

I'm delighted to say, the experience did not disappoint. It's a massively long film. At 3 hours and 29 minutes, it's longer than either of the Godfather films, longer than The Return of the King, longer than Titanic. It's a Scorsese opera, a multi-decade saga focusing on one man's journey into the America of organized crime.

Based on the memoir I Heard You Paint Houses, by Charles Brandt, The Irishman is the confessional of Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro), a World War II veteran who returns home from combat where he's learned to kill when ordered, meeting Pennsylvania crime boss Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci), who quickly puts his marketable skills to work.

I don't want to get into too many details or spoil the rich tapestry of surprises that The Irishman has in store, but know that this is vintage Scorsese - a filmmaking legend at the height of his powers, teamed-up with his veteran crew of choice. This is Scorsese and De Niro's ninth collaboration together, along with legendary editor Thelma Schoonmaker, and cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto (Brokeback Mountain, Argo, The Wolf of Wall Street). The screenplay by Steve Zaillian (Schindler's List, Gangs of New York, Moneyball) is a rich, novelesque feast of dialogue, leaning heavily into David Mamet territory.

The story spans a twenty-year stretch from the fifties to the seventies, with a deft wraparound structure featuring Sheeran looking back on what he's been left with - or without. As Frank changes, so does America, with events from the Kennedy and Nixon eras looming large behind them. With the passage of time and the sequence of choices, comes regret: "You don't know how fast time goes by 'til you get there." In every sense of the word, The Irishman is about mortality.

A mob story from Scorsese is bound to be violent, but Scorsese and Schoonmaker know when to get graphic, and when to suddenly look away, to create an even more jarring impact. The violence is matter-of-fact and never glamorized.

Eventually, Frank's orbit intersects with Jimmy Hoffa - Al Pacino, his first time working with Scorsese. Ever since Scent of a Woman, we've seen many a loud, grandiose performance from Pacino, but that's only a starting point for him here. The braggadocio and ego of Hoffa is a perfect fit for Pacino’s Hoffa, who reveals the layers of paranoia and need for control that drive him. I think it's a tremendous performance, that can't help but remind one of the current occupant of the oval office.

A huge part of what makes The Irishman tick is the digital "youthification" of the actors, letting us see a younger De Niro, Pacino and Pesci earlier in the story. It works incredibly well, and was never distracting, allowing the filmmakers to tell a truly long-form narrative with the same cast, who uniformly turn in some of their best work. I was particularly taken with Pesci, whose Russel Bufalino is a remarkably controlled and elegant piece of work. He's terrifying, without ever resorting to oversized theatrics. It's a terrific performance.

The Irishman may be one of De Niro's greatest roles. Coming right on the heels of Joker, this is an actor who shows no signs of mellowing, who's only delving deeper and delivering even more remarkable work.

My only disappointment is at how small Harvey Keitel's role is, as Angelo Bruno. He has incredible presence, which makes you want to see that much more of him. Also, there's a lack of substantial female roles in the film, with no equivalent of Goodfellas' Lorraine Bracco, or Sharon Stone in Casino. Bobby Cannavale, Ray Romano, and the ubiquitous Jesse Plemons all shine in supporting roles - and keep a sharp eye out for Jerry Vale!

The Irishman is a story told from the mature perspective of both a character and a director with long miles of seasoning and life experience - like Kurosawa's Ran. It's the kind of epic we don't see much these days, but it's gripping, poignant, and often quite hilarious. Netflix is tempting, but if you're fortunate enough to live somewhere that's showing The Irishman on the big screen, do yourself a favor and run.

Yes, it's long. The Irishman takes its time. But Scorsese and his story earn it. To quote Goodfellas, "Paulie may have moved slow, but it was only because Paulie didn't have to move for anybody."

Terminator: Dark Fate - Hot Lead and Cold Feet

It's been 28 years since James Cameron unleashed Terminator 2: Judgement Day, still deservedly regarded as one of the best sequels of all time. Cameron is a master of set piece kinetics, and Judgement Day delivered like crazy, along with dynamite characters you cared about, and a solid dose of humor. Audiences couldn't get enough.

In the intervening years, there have been three previous efforts to resurrect the franchise, with Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003), Terminator Salvation (2009), and Terminator Genisys (2015), with the The Sarah Connor Chronicles TV series sandwiched in there in 2008. Without substantial involvement from James Cameron, none of these projects found any lasting success.

The good news is, for Terminator: Dark Fate, Cameron got involved again - though being too busy making numerous Avatar sequels, farmed out directing duties to Deadpool director Tim Miller, with a screenplay by David S. Goyer, Justin Rhodes, and Billy Ray. The team decided to pretend that none of these failed Terminator sequels ever existed, positioning Dark Fate as the first direct sequel to Judgement Day. More good news - they largely succeed, and the film is rated R. But they don't wholly succeed, and given the film's box office under-performance, it's easy to see why.

Part of the problem is they essentially go the remake/sequel hybrid route, with Dark Fate attempting to exhume the fundamental dynamic of the original (1984) Terminator, a heroic soldier from the future going back in time to try to prevent a hostile Terminator from assassinating the woman who brings their reign of terror to an end - a move that feels like calculated franchise avarice more than storytelling.

The result is a frustrating experience, in large part due to the casting. The headline here is Mackenzie Davis (Halt and Catch Fire) as Grace, essentially the Kyle Reese character - a cybernetically enhanced future soldier with simply phenomenal combat skills. It's a star-making performance, and Davis throws herself into the role with 300% commitment and 1000 watt star power. With Grace, Davis jumps to the immediate front of the line for all heroic action roles, male or female - period. Imagine a short-tempered sci-fi Valkyrie version of Megan Rapinoe. Davis kicks every kind of ass there is, and is thankfully in nearly every scene of the film.

Likewise, an incredibly savvy move is luring back Sarah Connor herself, Linda Hamilton, who brings a very similar take to the character to what Jamie Lee Curtis achieved in last year's Halloween sequel - a hardcore, gun-toting sexegenarian, in a new chapter that ignores all the previous lamer chapters that came before. Hamilton is awesome, and has definitely not mellowed with age. She does vigilant paranoia and rage better than anybody, and when she teams up with Davis, the two make a serious house on fire.

Also got to hand it to Arnold Schwarzenegger, who pulls anchorman duty in a surprising way that genuinely works. I wish he'd entered the plot sooner than he does, but it totally satisfies, and his scenes with Hamilton have genuine sparks and poignancy to them. These three all do fantastic work.

So what's my problem? Sadly, it all of the other "main characters." As Dani Ramos, the "Sarah Redux" role of the Terminator's target, I'm not sure what's going on with Natalia Reyes. You might be tempted to say Tim Miller's better at directing action than actors, but he got one hell of a phenomenal performance out of Mackenzie Davis, so I don't think that's a fair take. Sad to say, Reyes just doesn't come off well as an actor here. She's plaintive and confused, and sometimes she gets very frustrated and mad. I found her an incredibly annoying and forgettable character.

So, too, with the antagonist. You gotta have a lethal, frightening villain in a movie like this, and as the zany "Rev-9" Terminator, actor Gabriel Luna is frustratingly lacking. He's no Robert Patrick. He never looks threatening; he almost seems affable at times; but mostly just comes off as goofy. This Terminator is the not-very-inventive cousin of T2's liquid metal Terminator, but with the ability to somehow morph off its fleshy human shell to move independently from its own endoskeleton. Now there are two of them! It makes no sense, and unfortunately, Luna's Rev-9 endures the shoddiest of the film's computer-generated effects.

There's also an embarrassingly preposterous mid-air action sequence that defies every disbelief-suspending implausibility in the history of mid-air action sequences. It's truly ludicrous. Thankfully, it's redeemed by a far superior climax ground battle, where Miller manages to capture some of that old Cameron visceral inertia.

I enjoyed seeing a genuine Terminator sequel, especially with the callbacks to Sarah Connor and the dynamic presence of Mackenzie Davis. Huge chunks of it are outright fantastic, and really enjoyable for action fans. But it's a movie that too often runs hot and cold.

The meat of this sandwich is really great, but the bread containing it is just way too stale.