In one of Martin Scorsese’s many masterpieces, The Irishman, the death of cinema is intricately woven into the narrative and style, reflecting both the end of an era in filmmaking and the personal decline of the characters within the story. The Irishman is a meditation on aging and mortality, not just of the characters, but also the genre and style of cinema that Scorsese helped define. The film follows Frank Sheeran (played by Robert De Niro), a loyal Mafia hitman whose life is filled with violence and betrayal, culminating in a solitary old age. The arc mirrors the aging of the traditional gangster genre, suggesting that the type of story Scorsese is known for is reaching its twilight.
Scorsese’s earlier works, such as Goodfellas and Casino, arguably glorified the gangster lifestyle with fast-paced editing, energetic soundtracks, and charismatic anti-heroes. The Irishman, in contrast, takes a more somber and reflective approach. The slow pace and extended runtime allow for a deeper examination of the characters’ actions and their consequences, stripping away the glamor to reveal a bleak reality. This deconstruction can be seen as a commentary on the end of an era for gangster films, moving away from the excitement of earlier works to a more tragic portrayal.
The use of digital de-aging technology on actors like De Niro, Al Pacino, and Joe Pesci serves as a metaphor for the passage of time and the attempt to hold on to the past. While the technology allows these actors to portray their characters across several decades, it also underscores the inevitability of aging and the artificiality of trying to recapture the past. This reflects the broader theme of cinema struggling to retain its old glory in an era of digital transformation and changing tastes.
The film’s narrative structure – which jumps back and forth in time, and its reflective, almost elegiac tone – contribute to the sense of an ending era. The storytelling method emphasizes memory, regret, and the inescapable passage of time – reinforcing the idea that both the characters and the genre they inhabit are in decline. The sense of finality is palpable, suggesting that The Irishman might be one of the last films of its kind, a final statement on a genre that has defined much of Scorsese’s career.
Frank Sheeran’s ultimate isolation and the regrets he harbors regarding his life choices echo the current state of cinema. As Sheeran reflects on his life from the confines of a nursing home, the film reflects the changing landscape of the film industry. The once vibrant and communal experience of cinema is portrayed as something solitary and introspective, paralleling Sheeran’s lonely existence.
Scorsese himself has been vocal about the changes in the film industry, particularly the rise of streaming services and the decline of traditional theatrical experiences. The Irishman, produced by Netflix, exemplifies this shift. While it received a limited theatrical release, its primary audience was on a streaming service. This distribution model signifies a major transformation in how films are consumed, highlighting the tension between old and new forms of cinema.
The Irishman serves as a poignant reflection on the end of an era, both in terms of its characters and the cinematic landscape. Through its narrative, style, and production, the film encapsulates a sense of closure and transition, marking the end of traditional gangster films and commenting on the broader evolution of the film industry. The Irishman is not just about the end of the characters’ lives, but also about the end of a particular kind of cinema that Scorsese has been instrumental in defining.
Leading up to The Irishman, Scorsese was quite vocal about his views on Marvel movies and their impact on cinema. In various interviews and op-eds, he expressed concern that Marvel movies and similar blockbuster franchises prioritize spectacle and commercial success over artistic expression and the exploration of deeper human themes. He famously compared Marvel movies to amusement parks, suggesting they are more about delivering thrills and less about the kinds of storytelling and emotional experiences that he associates with true cinema.
Scorsese’s comments about Marvel movies can be connected to the themes he explores in The Irishman, particularly the death of cinema. Scorsese delves into the passage of time, the inevitability of aging, and the sense of loss and regret that accompany the end of an era. This can be seen as a metaphor for his views on the current state of the film industry.
In The Irishman, Scorsese uses Frank Sheeran’s life to reflect on the end of a certain type of American life and, by extension, a certain type of American filmmaking. The film’s contemplative pace, focus on character development, and complex moral questions stand in stark contrast to the fast-paced and action-driven narratives typical of Marvel movies. This juxtaposition underscores Scorsese’s concern that the cinema he loves, a cinema that engages deeply with the human condition, is being overshadowed by the commercial imperatives of blockbuster franchises.
Scorsese’s critique is not just about the content of Marvel movies, but also about their dominance in the market and how they shape audience expectations. He worries that this dominance limits the opportunities for other kinds of films to be made and seen. In this sense, The Irishman can be seen as a response to and a lamentation for the changing landscape of cinema, where the nuanced, reflective stories that Scorsese values are increasingly at risk of being pushed aside.
Delving deeper into The Irishman and its implications for the death of cinema, Scorsese has consistently emphasized the importance of film language and grammar, and how to interpret it. To do so, consider the works of director Ingmar Bergman, whom Scorsese greatly admired, and how The Irishman‘s structure mirrors Bergman’s Wild Strawberries. Both films feature a protagonist taking a reflective journey, confronting their own mortality and the end of an era. Bergman’s film shifts from linear storytelling to a more subconscious, dreamlike narrative. The Irishman even borrows dialogue and visual elements from Wild Strawberries, creating a direct dialogue between the two.
In The Irishman, Scorsese is engaging in a dialectic with his predecessors, examining themes of death and transformation. Bergman transformed cinema in a surreal and groundbreaking way, which was often seen as heretical. Scorsese is now navigating the shift from traditional cinema to television and streaming, much like Bergman did with Fanny and Alexander and Scenes From a Marriage on Swedish television. In referencing Bergman, Scorsese justifies his own transition into new forms of media, such as Netflix.
Scorsese also explores these themes through his characters, creating a triptych with Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro), Russel Bufalino (Joe Pesci), and Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), representing different facets of death. This triptych, akin to a painting with three panels, reflects Scorsese’s deep investment in these ideas. He’s not just conversing with film history, but the entire history of performance art.
Consider Pacino and Pesci as embodiments of different acting styles. Pacino, with his theatrical background, brings a larger-than-life presence, while Pesci, rooted in cinema, delivers a more subdued, chilling performance. De Niro’s performance is caught between these two, symbolizing the transition from theater to cinema, and now to streaming.
This dynamic is visually underscored by the use of red drapes when Hoffa is introduced, evoking theater curtains and highlighting the death of earlier art forms. The plot’s focus on killing Pacino’s Hoffa (representing theater) parallels the way cinema supplanted theater in the 1920s, as vaudeville and live performances were overshadowed by films. Similarly, television and streaming now challenge the dominance of cinema.
Scorsese’s craft extends to the minutiae, such as breaking the fourth wall, which he loves to do, as seen in Goodfellas and The Wolf of Wall Street. In The Irishman, Frank Sheeran subtly glances into the camera when he is asked to kill Hoffa, creating an intimate connection with the audience. In this scene, Russell also looks like a doppelganger to Scorsese, confessing his own complicity in the death of cinema by contributing to Netflix’s content machine.
After Hoffa’s hit, Scorsese continues to confess his complicity with the wedding scene – a cold and lifeless affair that starkly contrasts with the vibrant wedding in The Godfather. Both scenes can be seen as a representation of the collective experience of cinema. In the case of The Irishman, Scorsese cuts directly from the wedding to Frank’s daughter watching television, framing the Sheeran family from the television’s perspective, highlighting their atomization as the collective experience of cinema has shifted to the solitary experience of watching television. The Irishman is all about the collectivism and solidarity of the Teamsters Union, a symbol for the solidarity and collective experience that once characterized traditional cinema.
The Irishman is rich with subtext, inviting viewers to engage deeply with its themes, especially the death of cinema. Scorsese’s meticulous approach ensures that his films are layered and enduring, offering insights into the evolution of art forms and the collective experiences they shape. He’s training audiences to view films with a critical, informed eye, and to appreciate the visual storytelling and its broader implications.
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