Scorsese scores with Southie cop drama.
No one makes movies like Martin Scorsese; expertly crafted, multifaceted diamonds of pulp character development and salacious intrigue, his films are wrapped so tightly in a sheath of silk that the tension threatens to break you. The two hours of teeth-clenching, heart-stopping narrative in his newest flick
The Departed
have none of the watch-checking weaknesses of
The Aviator
or
Gangs of New York
. It is a pure,
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completely unique elucidation of the cops and robbers genre, one in which the "rat" is as realistically sympathetic as the hero.
Where Scorsese's last two period dramas floundered in the minutia of cinematic perfection, self-consciously vying for Oscar attention,
The Departed
is indifferently organic. Set in modern times, the film follows Leonardo DiCaprio as Billy Costigan, a police cadet recruited for a ruthless and disturbing undercover assignment within Boston's Irish mafia. His intelligence and tenacity are instantly conveyed through simple closeups of his eyes on the second hand of a clock and his pencil crisply, decidedly circling answers on a police exam.
DiCaprio's Costigan is staggering, an anomaly of wit and ferocity unparalleled in anything the actor has ever done. When accused of being an informant, he subtly toys with the inebriated mob boss Frank Costello (Jack Nicholson). He first shows frustration, taking umbrage with Costello's lack of trust and then deftly states he could be Costello, but wouldn't want to be. His words exhibit the power of Costigan's spirit even when caught in a vice.
His nemesis is Colin Sullivan, played blithely by Matt Damon. The police detective-recruited as a child by the nefarious mob boss-calls Costello "Dad" and obediently tips him off to any and all police activity against him. Trained as a young boy in the philosophies of criminality, Sullivan efficiently dispatches any need for a conscience, while his true psychosis is revealed through his interactions with his girlfriend, the lovely psychiatrist Madolyn (Vera Farmiga). He won't allow pictures of her as a child to be put up in the house, preferring to keep an exploration of each other's roots and family out of the picture. Damon plays the part of the brainwashed prodigal son so convincingly that one almost forgets the laundry list of atrocities for which he is responsible.
In addition to supporters Nicholson and Farmiga, DiCaprio and Damon are joined by the extraordinary lineup of Mark Wahlberg, Martin Sheen and Alec Baldwin. Nicholson plays himself, doing yet another "here's Jack" impression that, though appropriate
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for his character, lacks the transformative powers his peers display. As he grows increasingly unstable, toying with a severed hand and appearing covered in blood, he resembles his Joker in
Batman
more than a mean Mick from the streets of Boston. Wahlberg holds his own, providing surprising bouts of humor as the foul-mouthed staff sergeant Dignam. Sheen and Baldwin exhibit the fast-talking skills of the best noir detectives or newspaper editors but with the undeniable flair of the Irish. Farmiga is an insatiable match for both the turbulent DiCaprio and contradictory Damon, acting as a counterpoint between the two who breaks the hearts of both.
But with all of the overwhelming star power, the picture remains inextricably Scorsese's, the auteur guiding his eloquent team with an unshakable hand. There are no gimmicks, no style for the sake of largess; every shot is born from the necessity of keeping up with the intensity of the action and the inner plights of his characters. Even a decidedly stylized shot of DiCaprio's image refracted a hundredfold in a mirrored mobile feels appropriate, illustrating simultaneously his paranoid undercover mindset and ability to see all the angles.
The Departed
is yet another Scorsese bookmark in cinematic history, terrifyingly brilliant and gripping to the last breath.
