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The Departed
A fire has been lit under my arse, and it is centered on all of the hogwash that folks in my profession give every new Martin Scorsese picture. Have you read any of the reviews over at metacritic.com or Rotten Tomatoes? Most of them sound like a broken record, and it is the type of tune that I despise, about whether or not The Departed lives up to the legacy of Goodfellas. Most reviews compare The Departed favorably, but this is not the point. The point is, my peers should be ashamed of themselves for trying to rank them at all. Who cares whether or not The Departed is better or worse than Goodfellas? Goodfellas is…well, it’s Goodfellas, the kind of film that only comes around once in a talented filmmaker’s lifetime, yet Scorsese has matched its greatness in at least three other films. That’s the kind of director who you revere, not who you scrutinize. Certainly, his brilliance sets the standard high, but Scorsese single-handedly created that standard, and he’s free to work in and around it as much as he likes, without us nagging him to constantly top himself. Because ultimately, here’s the rub: Martin Scorsese has no one left to top. You know it, I know it, and Scorsese, for all of his quiet humility, knows it. So why is every new picture under his direction compared to and contrasted against Goodfellas, or for that matter, other certified masterpieces like Raging Bull and Taxi Driver? Yes, those are landmarks in American cinema. They are among the very best films ever made. But what does it profit to go into every Scorsese film and demand that it compare to their standards? Here is the greatest American filmmaker of a generation, and here we are putting requirements on him, believing that he is obligated to constantly make films that measure up to the kind of cinematic genius that he has already created. Scorsese has reached the point in his legacy where we don’t have the right to demand anything from him. We should rather simply feel honored that he has given us another film in which to delight, and The Departed unquestionably has plenty of qualities to delight us. The above rant and its ultimate conclusion, that The Departed delighted me, is basically my sparse write-up of the film. It is being reviewed and written about by so many other film critics (as all Scorsese films should be) that I probably can’t say anything else about it without restating points and ideas that everyone else has already said. So, I merely reinforce that the film is as enchanting as you’ve heard—it is a sprawling, violent gangster epic that reveals a great filmmaker in total control of his craft, utilizing his skills in a way that entertains the hell out of us and provokes our senses with its colorful images of moral depravity and its consequences. In other words, The Departed is a Martin Scorsese picture. I don’t require Scorsese to make a picture as good as Goodfellas ever again (though I would certainly cherish such a film), but we can at least thematically compare the two without requiring one to live up to the other. The Departed lacks the philosophical edges of his earlier mob works, which also includes Mean Streets and Casino, in that its characters no longer have any guilt for being corrupted, and they don’t spend their days contemplating the price they will one day pay for their sins. This is a far more straightforward, traditional mob story, with twists and turns that keep us guessing and a moral that is basically the same moral in all mob stories: Crime doesn’t pay, but it almost does. I prefer to believe that this straightforwardness is a sign of the times more than it is a mark of decline in Scorsese’s storytelling skills. Mobsters just don’t have the time for introspection in the fast-paced cyber age—the closest statement to philosophy that the main mob boss (played deliciously by Jack Nicholson) gets to make is, “You are taught that you can either become a cop or a criminal, but when you are staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, what’s the difference?” The film, with its storyline about various rats (headlined by Leonardo DiCaprio and Matt Damon) working both sides, proves that these observations are correct, because just about everyone gets to meet the barrel of a loaded gun from various, surprised betrayers. There is eventually so little difference here between a police officer and a mobster that they can literally be both at the same time, and bullets take no sides. Scorsese’s decision to direct the film was controversial, because it is a remake of the Korean thriller Infernal Affairs. The Departed went into production in a time when remakes were (and still are) a craze by lazy studios who would rather buy the rights to other successful films than envision their own, and it is tempting to think that Scorsese was lured into the trap. And why not? Remakes are a profitable business, and they don’t require nearly as much work in the script-writing stage. They are almost guaranteed box-office successes, especially for films based on previous hits. The controversy surrounding Scorsese’s decision to direct the film is valid if approached only from the studio’s point of view. But I will remind viewers that once (and it admittedly seems like a very long time ago), remakes weren’t cheap cash-ins but rather offered interpretations that revealed new insights and dimensions to the previous works without stepping on their toes. Scorsese has already directed two great remakes—Taxi Driver is The Searchers set in modern-day New York, and Cape Fear translates an earlier, more standard thriller of the same name into a gritty urban drama about blind rage and human contradiction. I haven’t seen Infernal Affairs, but The Departed appears to be a film celebrating this older tradition; Scorsese is certainly no cash-in director, and he retells what is obviously a good story with his own, unique characteristics. There were elements that didn’t quite work. I never bought Vera Farmiga’s character as the woman for whom both the police informer and the mob informer happened to fall in love. She’s a fine actress with the type of honest, girl-next-door face made for the cinema, but her character is underwritten and a bit superfluous. Some of the final scenes are also a bit too convenient, with twists developing out of thin air for seemingly no other reason but to make us jump. But still, we jump. But these are minor reservations against the sheer cinematic power of Scorsese’s technique. He has always been a director who brings together all the elements of cinema and realizes them to their maximum potential. The actors, the soundtrack, the cinematography, and the camerawork are all in top form, and they create a film that rivets us from one scene to the next. The final image in particular, which I leave you to discover, shouldn’t have worked at all except to instill chortles throughout the audience, but Scorsese miraculously turns it into a poignant reminder of all of the characters’ twisted natures. It takes a special kind of talent to take a comical image and turn it into a slap in the face. Is The Departed among Scorsese’s most enduring work? I don’t think so, but only time will tell. Personally, I think both The Aviator and No Direction Home were stronger films that dealt more directly with Scorsese’s unparalleled knack for staring our repressed identities straight in the face. But who cares whether or not the picture is destined for greatness? It is a damn good movie, made with skill and passion by a director who always uses his personal touches to create a memorial time at the movies. Critics who can’t get Scorsese’s greatest achievements out of their heads when watching it aren’t exactly wrong (I still can’t get Raging Bull out of my head, no matter what I’m doing), but they do themselves a disservice by not allowing a new piece by a great artist to work on its own terms. At this point in his distinguished career, Scorsese has earned the right to exercise his talents in any way he likes. Let Goodfellas be Goodfellas. The Departed is The Departed; Scorsese apparently likes it that way, and so should you. Cast: A Warner Brothers release. Directed by Martin Scorsese. Written by William Monahan, from a script by Felix Chong and Siu Fai Mak. Rated R, for graphic violence, language, and some sexuality. Running time: 149 minutes. Original United States theatrical release date: October 6, 2006. Questions? Comments? E-mail me: danel_the_tinman@hotmail.com |
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