Réalisation:
Martin ScorseseScénario:
Steven ZaillianPhotographie:
Rodrigo PrietoMusique:
Robbie RobertsonActeurs·trices:
Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Joe Pesci, Bobby Cannavale, Harvey Keitel, Ray Romano, Stephen Graham, Anna Paquin, Stephanie Kurtzuba, Jack Huston (plus)VOD (1)
Résumés(1)
Cette saga sur le crime organisé dans l'Amérique de l'après-guerre est racontée du point de vue de Frank Sheeran, un ancien soldat de la Seconde Guerre mondiale devenu escroc et tueur à gages ayant travaillé aux côtés de quelques-unes des plus grandes figures du 20e siècle. Couvrant plusieurs décennies, le film relate l'un des mystères insondables de l'histoire des États-Unis : la disparition du légendaire dirigeant syndicaliste Jimmy Hoffa. Il offre également une plongée monumentale dans les arcanes de la mafia en révélant ses rouages, ses luttes internes et ses liens avec le monde politique. (Netflix)
(plus)Critiques (16)
Syndicats vs. gouvernement américain des années 70, ça ne me concerne pas tellement. Mais grâce à la vivacité de la narration et à la représentation captivante du monde de la mafia, c'est presque aussi génial que Les Affranchis. De plus, nous évoluons ici beaucoup plus haut, parmi les plus hauts gradés de la mafia américaine de l'époque. De Niro a le plus de difficultés avec son visage artificiellement jeune et ses vieux yeux, au début il faut s'habituer à la digitalisation. Il joue son rôle de tueur de manière traditionnelle, comme nous avons l'habitude de le voir dans ce type de rôle. Pacino est plus original, incarnant Hoffa de manière excentrique, avec un enthousiasme politique, une fierté énorme et les intentions les plus pures moralement de tout le groupe. La performance d'acteur la plus notable du film. Pour moi, cependant, le plus grand plaisir a été Pesci, l'eau tranquille qui décide des vies. Du fou apathique avec un couteau à la main (Les Affranchis) à un joueur très influent avec un sens du jeu dans le monde de la mafia, sur lequel toutes les parties peuvent compter. Brillant dans chaque scène. Keitel a un minimum d'espace, mais dans le rôle de l'un des chefs les plus respectés de l'époque. Les marques de réalisation se font encore plus visibles lors d'une relecture. La scène phare, qui glace le sang, n'est pas accompagnée d'une musique tendue, mais d'un dialogue absurde sur les poissons. La durée n'est pas du tout un problème, ce « road-movie » est un plaisir nostalgique composé du style unique de Marty et de l'interaction d'acteurs légendaires, une expérience que nous ne retrouverons plus dans un autre film.
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Par le biais de cette œuvre monumentale à l’ampleur démesurée, Martin Scorsese transmet aux spectateurs de Netflix un message les priant de mettre leur téléphone de côté quelques heures et de dévouer toute leur attention à son effort de longue haleine, le but étant de bien pouvoir assimiler la psychologie des personnages – l'élément pilier du film. De la trilogie imaginaire Les Affranchis, Casino, The Irishman, ce troisième numéro est le plus politique des trois et aussi le moins violent, sans pour autant être moins marquant ni déterminant. C’est aussi un film qu’il faut absolument revoir dans le temps. Quoi qu’il en soit, je croise les doigts pour que Pesci, autant que Pacino, reçoivent un Oscar.
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When, after roughly two hours, The Irishman stops switching between the two narrative lines and three different time planes that together set the film’s rhythm, it becomes clear that the wedding was not actually the primary destination of Frank’s journey. At the same time, one important character from Frank’s past comes into the road-movie framework. Contrary to the custom of accelerating the pace as the end approaches, the film slows down and becomes more focused, no longer engaging in a series of diversions and jumping between numerous people and events. We realise that the memory of a given event is of fundamental importance for Frank and he wants to recount it in as much detail as possible, step by step, minute by minute. Thanks to the context provided by the previous two hours, we concurrently comprehend what this is leading to and what the individual characters are experiencing. We start to understand that Frank had merely been carrying out another one of his missions, which usually ends with a house getting painted. ___ In the first narrative line, Frank is in the final phase of his life, just before his death. In the other, he is heading toward death. It seems that all of the events in his life involve death and dying in some way. The detached approach to killing well demonstrates Scorsese’s departure from the more dynamic style of his earlier mafia films. In The Irishman, violence is not “cool”; sometimes we don’t even see it, we only hear it from a distance. If an upbeat song is playing in the car during one of the murders, that is only because the driver turned on the radio to drown out the death rattle of the strangled victim. ___ Frank's blackened conscience, a reminder of his sins and the incompatibility of violent behaviour with the feeling of having a safe home, is represented by his daughter Peggy, thanks to whom we realise that Frank fills his emotional emptiness with words and diverts attention from his inner self to the outside. Though Frank’s relationship with his daughter may seem to be of secondary importance in the context of a story in which people die, cars explode and mobsters bribe top politicians, it is that relationship which best describes how Frank feels and what he longs for above all else: to go out into the world reconciled with himself and with his loved ones. Despite first appearances, the core of the film thus does not represent Frank’s involvement in the structures of the Italian-American mafia and trade unions, but what he lost due to his career advancement. Civil dialogue and time spent in the family circle appear to be more important than a detailed description of the underworld and a factual depiction of Frank’s work processes. Rather than an epic mafia saga, The Irishman is primarily an intimate drama about dysfunctional relationships and the constant presence of death, the basis of which we always carry within ourselves (as we realise thanks also to digitally rejuvenated acting veterans). 95%
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I’m sorry, but with this film I have the same problem as with almost every gangster movie focused exclusively on the mobsters. When the efforts of detectives or courts to break the gang get some space (like in this year’s The Traitor or in Scorsese’s The Departed), I’m fine with it, but I hate to watch the fates of characterless, arrogant assholes whose actions, though not directly glorified by the film language, are presented as something cool that should “entertain” the viewers. More so when the main character, besides not having any character, also lacks any interesting qualities; and more so when it has an unreasonable four-hour long run. The Irishman is well made, I guess, and it will satisfy the fans of mafia opuses, but I couldn’t get anything out of it. The plot wasn’t interesting (moreover, despite a number of flashbacks, the conclusion is very predictable), I couldn’t even find any formal pearls, because, other than the digital deageing (that works so-so), there aren’t any. I didn’t find a single interesting scene that could be somehow formally attractive. In short, I only watched it out of respect for the gentlemen behind it, thanks to which, the last hour and a half or so is a little more interesting than the rest. But, even though I subscribe to the words that Scorsese addressed at Marvel, the sad truth is that I would rather watch again the last Avengers than The Irishman.
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Martin Scorsese delivers the ultimate gangster film, letting the legends of the cast shine with rejuvenated faces, but also switching directorial styles in a way he probably could never get away with in the cinema. The Irishman can be fast and riveting, but also slow, talky or surprisingly emotional. Scorsese didn't have to compromise this time, and it's definitely worth seeing what he can deliver when he's given a lot of money, a dream cast and a free hand. Still, it might have been a good idea to have someone at his back to at least tactfully point out the moments when his big film drags a bit.
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There isn’t a more suitable and meaningful ending to one era of directors like Martin Scorsese and actors like Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Joe Pesci or Harvey Keitel. It was really nice that all of the above mentioned had a chance to say farewell to the gangster-movie genre with a movie like The Irishman. Nowadays, gangster movies are rare. But as one of the few directors, Martin Scorsese has a patent to such movies, and therefore he precisely knew what he was doing. And of course he pulls you in and doesn’t let go. Still, 209 minutes is 209 minutes. Moreover, same parts are very nostalgic and melancholic, which had to be taken into consideration. The theme is good, but not good enough for me to rate it with 5 stars, as there had been more essential pieces of this genre in the past. Moreover, this movie brought a novelty – digital alteration and rejuvenation of some actors – which takes some getting used to and always makes me lament that it is not possible to stop the flow of time. I really like those actors so for me to see the differences in their appearance wasn’t something I wanted to see. According to my expectations, The Irishman is a good movie. Maybe a bit too classical for a gangster-movie genre with little action and way too long, but it brings you back to the era that all of those who watched The Irishman partly out of nostalgia simply liked.
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A modern classic? It’s more of a you-wish gesture masterfully timed for the period when Scorsese stirred up a totally anachronistic debate about high and low. The film itself relies on the use of technologies that have been largely brought forth by Disney (Tron 2) and Marvel, and on the robust plan of Zailian's screenplay, which again lavishly beats around the bush, but does not work much with the depth of the characters. De Niro's Sheeran is therefore a static and slowly shifting cruel mountain of CGI flesh, and his picaresque pilgrimage through the history of American trade union-mafia intercourse drags on like an old man. The characters who are age thirty move about like they are eighty and in some ways, this accurately captures the essence of Scorsese's work - this stocky, corrugated professorship that lacks elegance and fun segments, but as a whole functions more like a cinephile fetish and an obelisk worshiping the past. At the same time, however, it fits very well into Netflix's portfolio, where the absence of a strict dramaturgy is confused with a robust creative vision. Martin is too good a director to make a disguised film, but his firm The Irishman is as stimulating as De Niro's face when he fires lead into German prisoners in a miserable, unintentional paraphrase of Call of Duty. For me, it’s on the thin edge of cringe.
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As much as I love gangster movies, I'm not too happy with Irishman. Martin Scorsese returns to the genre that made him famous and assembles together a cast of mafia legends, but he fails to draw me into the plot at all. I enjoyed the first hour, where Robert De Niro gets into the gangster underworld as an assassin, but once Al Pacino showed up, the film stopped being all that interesting. I was disappointed that there were no shootouts and even the few murders looked pretty unnatural. I wasn't too interested in the plot, the dialogue had nothing to engage me, it's not suspenseful or tense either, so I really don't know where to look for plus points. I'd rather watch Scarface again, but at least I didn't suffer like I did with the new Tarantino film. 6/10.
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Once upon a time in the unions. Just as Sergio Leone has his dollar trilogy, Martin Scorsese now has his mafia trilogy, and I finally got to see its culmination at a time when I simply wasn't expecting it anymore. The youngest brother of The Godfather and Goodfellas arrived just when the deserving creator is close to eighty and boldly shows skeptics that age is just a number. Frank Sheeran's story is more nostalgic than the two aforementioned pieces, it doesn't need as much help in the format and imagery of the individual events, it simply sails, recounts, and reminisces for about three and a half hours, recalling things that are not easy to remember. He introduces a hundred and one supporting characters with removal, only to effortlessly run chills down our spines during a title pause with their fate. And in the midst of it all, the royal trio of Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, and most of all Al Pacino remains, in incredible acting performances as legends at the twilight of their careers (for Pesci, even after its actual end), savor the most passionate of arguments and subtlest of nuances. I knew this journey would be about murder, the mafia, politics, and courtroom drama, but I didn't expect it to be so precisely about aging and the transience of each life, when the most important things are precisely those that have irreversibly disappeared.
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While I was watching it, I felt like I had aged about 10 years. The Irishman really made a perfect gerontocratic impression on me. Normally, American films are tailored to the audience that is willing to come to the movie theater, i.e., the younger generation, while this one targets more so the older folks who have seen Scorsese's mafia classics. Although I like the entire cast, which I hope Scorsese gathered for the last time, I feel like this memorial was no longer necessary. The film is long-winded, artificial, and lacking in refinement. Aside from the unnatural de-aging, which only works partly because the walking and gestures give away a lot, there is nothing explicitly wrong with this film, but at the same time, there is nothing that you haven't already seen in Scorsese's work in a much better form. The positive reviews of the film, at least partially in my opinion, stem from the phenomenon of the "Lifetime Achievement Oscar." I watched the film without enthusiasm and had to abandon it tiredly after 30 minutes the first time. But giving it only two stars would be too little, Scorsese is too good of a filmmaker for that. And even with its insane duration, there are interesting cinematic moments here and there. Overall impression: 50%.
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An unbelievably complex guide to the life of a person who has outlived everybody and is settling accounts of his life as the end draws near. The crème of the acting profession came together to film the long-postponed project I Heard You Paint Houses, led by the director eminently best suited to the task. Pacino gives a masterful performance as union boss Jimmy Hoffa, but Pesci’s return is a blessing for the entire film. The nuances, the faint hints, the one-liners delivered with zest… This is going to score a lot of Oscars. The digital effects are not perfect, but only seem to do harm to De Niro’s performance. But after a while you stop noticing. It’s such a good story. Definitely the film of the year. I chose us over him.
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Since Casino in 1995 I haven't seen a Martin Scorsese film that has managed to pull me in as much as The Irishman did, in fact I wouldn't be afraid to say it's even better than Casino. After about ten minutes I didn't even feel like I was watching a Netflix novelty, but I had the impression that they were simply putting some good old classic and time-tested honest gangster movie on TV. And it certainly owes this not only to the (amazing) stunts that rejuvenated the actors so believably I didn't even think about it, but mainly to the elaborate, well-acted and directed story. Scorsese's black mob humor, Pacino's explosiveness, De Niro's unreadability, and Pesci's everything – it’s an actor's dream ensemble in a perfect spectacle that does whatever it wants with the viewer for three and a half hours.
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Narratively speaking, the most remarkable film of the year. Scorsese is still a master of his craft, he connects each scene and time layer of this massive story in one smooth and consistent continuity. Thanks to this, a complex story with many characters and motifs from the ranks of the mafia and high politics doesn’t feel chaotic, on the contrary, from the first long camera ride onwards, it grabs you by the hand and never allows you to not get deep into the story of the protagonist – unlike Casino and, to some extent, Goodfellas, which are more about the world of those characters rather than the characters themselves, Irishman is a sincere and, by the end, painful confession of a man who lived, killed, followed orders and also felt. The end of an era that they love to relive in their older years, in an armchair and with a piece of bread soaked in fruit juice. The de-aging effect was alright and, more importantly, justified; the actors themselves, on the other hand, especially Pesci and Pacino, are as great as when they were at the peak of their physical strength.
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Martin Scorsese sure doesn’t skimp on the running time. The film wasn't uninteresting, the acting performances were (logically) up to standard, but I find that films about the Italian mafia seem to sort of blend together, including The Irishman. I'm glad I got to see it, but I don’t think I’d be excited to see it again (anytime soon).
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I'm not naive or overly burdened with nostalgia (maybe a little), so I wasn't even hoping for a second Casino or Goodfellas. I just wanted a good movie that would be a tribute to living film legends and as such become the iconic swan song of one specific subgenre and one incredible cinematic generation. Unfortunately, The Irishman is a kind of polished turd in an aged and at times quite fragile package. All credit to Joe Pesci (imho he looks the most digitally touched up of the lot) and Al Pacino, without whom all of The Irishman would be pretty hollow even in terms of acting. I say this with a heavy heart, but perhaps my all-time favorite actor here plays a poor caricature of himself. I'll overlook now the fact that in some of the "touched up" scenes, Robert De Niro has dead eyes (because the digital rejuvenation is totally cool overall, so I won't pick this minor imperfection out of an otherwise functional whole). But the problem arises when he has to perform a rougher scene (it's most evident when he goes to defend his daughter's honor at the greengrocer's), because he really comes across as a wizened old man. Unfortunately, the disproportion between the digital facial rejuvenation and the worn-out body is most apparent in this scene. It just looks ridiculous and it's clear that de Niro just doesn't have it anymore. Sadly, I'll continue the hate, because even in terms of the direction (I really didn't expect I’d ever say that) this isn't much of a work. The film has no juice, lacks entertaining qualities with only complete exceptions, and is miles away from the lightness and predatory nature of Scorsese's previous mafia opuses. If I’m totally merciless, it's Silence drawn out by an hour, in which the theme of religion is swapped for that of old gangsters. Plus, when Robert De Niro shoots someone in The Irishman, it's always such a bland and flavorless mess. Thank God that there is still something of de Niro's charisma left and that in some passages the viewer can experience his typical grimaces, voice intonation, and nostalgic throwbacks to the old days. As a farewell to a fantastic generation of actors, it is unfortunately undignified, because at the end there is only the aftertaste of wasted potential and the immediate desire to fix one's appetite with those dense 90s opuses. Scorsese simply didn't make it past the mafia sub-genre, and he probably won't get a second chance. I'm slowly starting to dread what he'll come up with next after Silence and The Irishman.
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Annonces