The Irishman — The End of an Era

Scorsese puts the class in classic. I can’t remember the last time I felt privileged to sit back and take in a movie; I knew I was being treated to a piece of art that would be a one-off and timeless. There was something notably poignant about watching The Irishman — there are very few occasions I feel humbled to witness, given I was born in 1992 and most of the cool stuff had gone by the turn of the century. The hint of melancholy I drew from this film came from knowing this is absolutely the last of its kind, the final epic mob movie with actors and a director who go hand in glove with the genre.

Pacino, De Niro and Pesci played their roles to perfection, it felt like the last hurrah, the final doff of the cap to the 20th century romance of slick-talking, power walking, street guys who came from nothing and defied the odds. No starbucks, no mobile phones, no political correctness, just guys taking destiny into their own hands and living according to their own codes, effectively and secretly overpowering and out-manoevering the corporate and government elite who rule the roost today. There’s something attractive and admirable about it, although that’s probably an easy thing to say from such a safe distance as the one that I write from.

Any other director would have shot their load prematurely with a project as gargantuan as this. Not Scorsese, he took his time…