Sorry, Drink, Mrs. Jenkins just wouldn't wait. I told her I'd promised to go with you. She told me I had a difficult decision to make, and I'd better make the right choice, or there would be many cold nights in my future. I hope you'll understand.
Sorry, Drink, Mrs. Jenkins just wouldn't wait. I told her I'd promised to go with you. She told me I had a difficult decision to make, and I'd better make the right choice, or there would be many cold nights in my future. I hope you'll understand.I walked up to the Balasco box-office at 3pm to buy tickets for the 7pm show and had no trouble scoring Orchestra center seats 9 rows from the screen. I thought, huh, there must not be much demand. When I returned at 6:30 there was a line stretching down the block and a woman circulating telling everyone the show was a sell-out. One guy in line asked the woman if she could give a quick review. She said, "You kiddin'? It's Maaa-tee!" "That's the review?" "Yeah. Two words."Inside there were people moving about with some kind of newspaper parody with the headline: "Where Is Hoffa?" Apparently these were available downstairs next to the concessions and toilets. I went down and the place was all promo'd up: there were 4 phony phone booths and two phony newspaper dispensers. You opened the dispensers and pulled out a copy of The Irishman Daily, an 8-page edition claiming to be from August 1, 1975. In addition to "articles" and "ads" that tied in to the events of the movie, but there were also what appears to be actual pieces from back in the day: a story that Billy Martin was coming to manage the Yankees, a notice that the MTA would be raising fares to 50 cents, an announcement that Springsteen's new album Born To Run would be released Aug. 25. Good fun.The phony phone booths were set up with a video screen. When you stepped into the booth and lifted the receiver you heard dialog from the film while images of the movie played. People were posing in the booths while their friends snapped pictures--losers, every one. On a table there were 5 different 2-sided lobby cards available to cadge. Hey, all this extra promo material and the tickets were the standard NYC $15!I tapped my radiator (before a 3 and half hour movie, natch) and headed back to my seat. A good thing as there was no intermission. There were two trailers and then they got right into it. Three-and-a-half hours later we finally got to the opening credits. The lights came up and I turned to a red-eyed Mrs. Jenkins and said, "That was a loooooong film, eh?" She did not reply. We staggered out of the theater and found ourselves back on 44th and 6th Ave. It was only 4 blocks to Grand Central Terminal. There was an express waiting when we arrived. We were home before midnight, and we were exhausted.
RELEASE THE REVIEW.There are no screenings in France for legal reasons. Only Netflix. Well, there was a single screening, with Marty himself (+Q&A) at the Cinematheque, but it was virtually impossible to book a seat if you aren't a member. So it will be a (long) Netflix evening for me.
As apparently nobody here has seen it, so far, it is up to me to review it as first. For those who, like me, have read the book, it adds little storywise. Actually one wonders why in the end Sheeran isn't shown as finally dictating his memoirs and so one could wonder how the book and the movie based on it came to be. The interminable finale is the weakest part of the movie, absolutely useless and boring.But the whole movie itself adds little to the fame of Scorsese's gangster movies: although it keeps you interested for a whole 3 hours it doesn't have the spectacularity of Goodfellas (or even Casino's) and the only cinematically original moment (as I expected) is the murder of Joey Gallo (the short Gallo episode is the one which really makes the movie go up the grade). The problem with the movie is the lack of the nihilistic approach of Goodfellas, which allowed the director to show original characters and scenes. Here both the story ad the direction are faultless but lacking that something more of the movies I quoted above. The choice of songs by Robertson doesn't help, by the way: they put you to sleep, mostly. Still I put this over Casino because it has no female subplot, thank God. 8/10
This movie really is like Marty’s version of OUATIA.Btw, has there ever been a main character in a gangster movie who was more meek than Frank Sheeran?
A lot of it feels inauthentic. Like de Niro's acting doesn't feel natural; it feels like a "performance." A good performance, but a performance nonetheless; this is not one of those acting jobs where the person just feels like he is the character. And those shoulder pads de Niro is wearing, making him look like a football player. Pacino, too, feels like a performance, not natural. And the hairpieces everyone is wearing, and the switching back and forth between the ages. This feels very much like it's "put on" rather than natural.Some exceptions. Pesci is absolutely terrific in every way.And (I assume everyone on this board has seen it, so I won't worry about spoiler alerts) in the prison scene at the end, Pesci is absolutely amazing. And Stephen Graham as Tony Pro is terrific, too.The ending, with de Niro in the old-age home, being regretful, I suppose some might want to have scrapped; but for me, those scenes have the best acting by de Niro.
What's meek? Sweet?
And sorry, but I can't see such a great Pesci performance: not even distantly comparable to the one in Goodfellas.