the Irish

5

• Genre: Drama

All masterpieces, whatever art they are, share the same argument: time. They are united by the inexorability of what perishes and the eternity of the ephemeral. That is why, in order not to forget what we are and against what we are, we wear the watches tied so close to the pulse. Tic. Tac. The Irishman is aware of this, he knows he is the victim of his most intimate finitude. His and everyone's. And Scorsese, wiser than ever, places his most balanced and deep film right next to the heart of his main character (monumental De Niro) , in the vital core of his filmography and on his wrist. Few creators so deeply believing in the saving, or only healing, capacity of cinema, of art. It's movie and it's watch. Bracelet Pulse

The Irish is better defined by what street than by what he celebrates. It basically tells the story of a hitman and, nevertheless, his way of acting keeps him at a distance from the mythology associated with the character. Neither does he impart justice where Justice does not arrive, nor does that breath between epic and only strangeness that defines the misfits stand up. The Irishman talks about mafia, like so many others in the director's filmography, and it has nothing to do with the adrenaline-free brand of One of ours or with the rough and impressionistic dirt of Bad streets . Nor is the idea to analyze how the stigma of power and sin seeps into the depths of the soul as if it were a new installment of the 'Godfather'.

The director, wiser than ever, places his film more balanced and deep next to the heart of his main character

What matters, what the condemnation in fact, barely looks or fits in the synopsis. What distinguishes it and makes it unique runs through each frame like an electric current until the entire film is transformed into almost a state of the soul . It is, as has been said, time. The Irish start in the halls of a nursing home. The camera roams the search for a man in a wheelchair. An inner voice rushes to confess a whole life. And the voice of the owner is coupled with the character himself interpreted with a majesty unrelated to mannerisms by Robert De Niro. It would be said that we attended the same inaugural ceremony once upon a time in Leone's America . What follows is not so much the repentance of a man as the explanation of his sentence.

Scorsese arranges the film in a maze of times that dialogue with each other and span three decades . Or 60 years, if the starting point of the old man who remembers is included as a reference. It is not about 'flash-backs', since none of the time segments is designated as a priority. The trip of De Niro and his boss, Joe Pesci, with their respective ladies already matured would be the backbone. They are supposed to go to a wedding, but, in reality, they walk towards their destination. The killer must complete his last job.

The Irishman tells the story of a World War II soldier who went from killing Nazis in the front to "painting houses" (because of the farewell blood that smears the walls) in a convulsed United States. First as a hitman of an Italian partner with influences and then as the right hand of the almighty trade unionist Jimmy Hoffa, who is incarnated by the always disproportionate Al Pacino. Politics and crime are associated in a magma that no one escapes: not the Kennedys. Through the protagonist, according to the millimetrated script by Steven Zaillian , the recent history of a country that speaks of ambition, power, corruption, greed and cruelty is read. What is glimpsed is not so much the transformation of the character, but also, its full and perfect coherence. He acts moved by friendship, wisdom, logic and defense of his family. And he does it with the tools he has at hand. There's no more.

The director graduates with an already unusual precision what could be called his most calculated, geometric and even perfect masterpiece. Far from any stridency, everything works to the beat of a soul that is diluted. The film's own length plays in favor . It does not matter so much the development of the action as its perfect suspension in an armored story against any interference. The film herself creates her own concept of time.

The actors are allowed to modify the face by the technology that apparently has led the production to the 150 million dollars spent by Netflix . You can not talk about perfection (in fact, the first time he shows his face De Niro as a young man scares. By quirky), but it does make sense. 'The Irishman' creates his own internal coherence between the faces that change and metamorphose with a wisdom never seen in the indiscriminate use of digital effects.

And in the middle, a De Niro, a Pesci and an Al Pacino (we could add even Stephen Graham and Anna Paquin) endless. Far from the excesses to which Scorsese's actors are accustomed, everything now runs inside. The idea is to move just the transformed faces. Or, otherwise, restore their spirit. Especially shocking is the work of the protagonist locked in a deep self-absorption as a wandering figure and missing herself . De Niro roams the memories of his life trying to understand why his loneliness is so much and so much contempt for his daughter. And in his wandering he turns time into a common space (of absolutely everyone) for remorse, heartbreak and repentance by force impossible. All they have left are their dead. Nothing else. The corpse of time fleeing without a pulse. Tic. Tac.

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