The Departed

(2006)

Directed by

Martin Scorsese

Review by Zach Saltz

The only real departure of Martin Scorsese’s latest masterpiece, The Departed, is transposing the setting from Scorsese’s beloved Hell’s Kitchen - Italian Catholic milieu to South Boston - Irish Catholic circles of violent, feisty small-time hoods.  This almost naturally begs for an endless stampede of Irish jokes and drunken bar fights which would traditionally lag and condescend were it in a film by almost any other director; but Scorsese thrives on the colorful and wildly obscene dialogue of anonymous street toughs. It’s these characters whom Scorsese truly cares.  The Taxi Drivers and Raging Bulls get ample screen time and attention -- it’s the GoodFellas in the background who often provide the memorable material. 

The best scene in The Departed, for example, involves two insignificant small-time hoods working for Jack Nicholson’s mob boss Costello, as they wait casually in front of a shop, and inquire who, walking on the sidewalk in front of them, may be undercover cops hot on their trail.  One of them suggests that undercover cops will make a deliberate effort not to make any sort of noticeable contact with you, as not to blow their cover.  They quickly determine that all attractive women are undercover cops.

Scorsese’s newest film affirms the recent trend in American movies: remaking foreign pictures into mainstream American fare.  The Departed is based on a 2002 Hong Kong flick entitled Internal Affairs.  The plotline adapted from that film is, not surprisingly, quite ingenious: Matt Damon’s Sullivan, a mole of Costello, infiltrating the police, while, unbeknownst, Leonardo DiCaprio’s Costigan befriends Costello as a spy hired by that very same police.  Sullivan and Costigan come from the same neighborhood, have the same shaky backgrounds, and are both attracted to the police force, only one of them, however, with intent that is pure.  Add to the mix Mark Wahlberg’s fiery, homicidal, Sergeant Riggs-inspired Dignam, Martin Sheen’s old school police chief Queenan, and Vera Farmiga’s helplessly divided cop shrink Dr. Madolyn (she’s got the hots for both Sullivan and Costigan) and you’ve got one helluva mess.

It is indeed messy, and Scorsese’s flow is near-perfect.  The film runs at two-and-a-half hours, but breezes by faster than many films have its running length, giving the viewer enough time to chew on the many layers the complex story has to offer.  As in GoodFellas and Casino, Scorsese uses an expertly-chosen 1970s soundtrack to accentuate the flashy nature of the story.  And, as in all Scorsese films, the camera is mercurial and restless, and the momentum is horrifically tangible, as when the moles first get any sort of contact with one another -- a scene of terrifying silence lasting over two minutes.

As I said earlier, The Departed is indeed a masterpiece, but occasionally a perfunctory one, if such a brand of masterpiece exists.  The dialogue is crisp and sharp, but never memorable and occasionally laden in clumsy Bostonian imitation (David Edelstein characterizes the dialogue as “David Mamet speak played at Alvin and the Chipmunk speed”).  Nicholson can be downright scary, but too often in the latter half of the film drifts into clumsy floozy mode, a la Terms of Endearment.  There is no time for meditative self-reflection in The Departed -- the characters are too busy either shooting each other or frantically giving directions on their cellular phones.  This makes the characters cold and distant; not distant in the way that Travis Bickle and Jake LaMotta are painfully isolated, but in a way where they are auspiciously cut-off from the viewer.  Who really are these people?  What are their goals, their wishes, their hopes, their fears?  And while the finale is trumped up and content to bathe itself in a tub of blood, the camp-nihilist final shot is, in retrospect, less Shakespearian and more Scorsese’s idea of a sick final joke disguised as a payoff.

But, as Scorsese himself would probably attest to, The Departed is more concerned with exceptionally clever plotting and surprising twists than lucid character study and thought provocation.   For as Sullivan and Dr. Madolyn conclude on their first date, the Irish are impervious to psychoanalysis.

Rating:

# 49 on Top 100

# 2 of 2006