The Departed
'It must have darkened with age...', my mind told me after I got over my initial shock from that startling appendage that arrogantly hung on Matt Damon's face. It dangled out of Jack Nicholson, the thing. And it was a smashing way for a strap-on dildo to debut in Hollywood.
I had a feeling I wouldn't need my usual bag of Holy Kettle Corn, my movie comfort, when I went to watch The Departed. This type of a movie did not need unnecessary distractions, least of all sticky fingers and those annoying have-to trips to the bathroom. True to all the accolades being heaped upon it, this extremely riveting film is a very serious Oscar runner, with a few from the ensemble, I would imagine, eligible for the statuettes. Who knows, this may be the jinx that will finally break the spell of non-stop losing for the great Martin Scorsese after all.
Jack Nicholson, like his movie character Frank Costello, is a rock star. And he was just born to play frightfully unpredictable psycho gangster types that occasionally snack on flies for the heck of it, just like Frank. Yet, even with his scary devil attitude (and to incur his wrath was tantamount to disaster), he exuded a fleeting glimpse of paternal love and pride, or whatever Costello was capable of in those terms, in the final scene of his betrayal by his clean-cut-looking and corrupt pseudo-son Matt Damon (who also very effectively portrayed his role as the double-faced cop Sullivan), who murdered him cold in the end.
I think that Leo di Caprio is one lucky chap to be given all these great acting assignments, as he seems to be a favorite of Martin Scorsese, much like Daniel Day Lewis was before. You felt pure unadulterated rage seething out of him while being the undercover agent Bill Costigan, that you tend to understand due to previous circumstances in his life. But whatever they were gave qualified him for the job and equipped him with strength and smarts enough to withstand the tortuous interrogations he was subject to by Costello, when he was beginning to be suspected as the mole/informant within the syndicate. Luckily, he had this thing about his hands being steady even regardless of the most terrifying situations, that probably prevented him from dropping his glass of cranberry juice a couple of times. And he had the soothing balm of the expensive-faced (to which my husband disagrees) Vera Parmiga, as the doctor with whom Billy falls in love with.
This is a brilliant movie, but everyone else is saying that. Credits also go to Mark Wahlberg, Alec Baldwin and Martin Sheen, who added up for a stellar casting coup that is hard to duplicate. It is a tightly paced movie, with profanity flying back and forth and often, and you sense that they meant every word of it, which made it chilling and suspenseful enough to think you're bound to get a mini-heart attack. Still I departed the movie feeling pleased, for it singlehandedly made up for all the other crappy movies I watched this year, so thank God for that.
Filed Under: Movies
I had a feeling I wouldn't need my usual bag of Holy Kettle Corn, my movie comfort, when I went to watch The Departed. This type of a movie did not need unnecessary distractions, least of all sticky fingers and those annoying have-to trips to the bathroom. True to all the accolades being heaped upon it, this extremely riveting film is a very serious Oscar runner, with a few from the ensemble, I would imagine, eligible for the statuettes. Who knows, this may be the jinx that will finally break the spell of non-stop losing for the great Martin Scorsese after all.
Jack Nicholson, like his movie character Frank Costello, is a rock star. And he was just born to play frightfully unpredictable psycho gangster types that occasionally snack on flies for the heck of it, just like Frank. Yet, even with his scary devil attitude (and to incur his wrath was tantamount to disaster), he exuded a fleeting glimpse of paternal love and pride, or whatever Costello was capable of in those terms, in the final scene of his betrayal by his clean-cut-looking and corrupt pseudo-son Matt Damon (who also very effectively portrayed his role as the double-faced cop Sullivan), who murdered him cold in the end. I think that Leo di Caprio is one lucky chap to be given all these great acting assignments, as he seems to be a favorite of Martin Scorsese, much like Daniel Day Lewis was before. You felt pure unadulterated rage seething out of him while being the undercover agent Bill Costigan, that you tend to understand due to previous circumstances in his life. But whatever they were gave qualified him for the job and equipped him with strength and smarts enough to withstand the tortuous interrogations he was subject to by Costello, when he was beginning to be suspected as the mole/informant within the syndicate. Luckily, he had this thing about his hands being steady even regardless of the most terrifying situations, that probably prevented him from dropping his glass of cranberry juice a couple of times. And he had the soothing balm of the expensive-faced (to which my husband disagrees) Vera Parmiga, as the doctor with whom Billy falls in love with.
This is a brilliant movie, but everyone else is saying that. Credits also go to Mark Wahlberg, Alec Baldwin and Martin Sheen, who added up for a stellar casting coup that is hard to duplicate. It is a tightly paced movie, with profanity flying back and forth and often, and you sense that they meant every word of it, which made it chilling and suspenseful enough to think you're bound to get a mini-heart attack. Still I departed the movie feeling pleased, for it singlehandedly made up for all the other crappy movies I watched this year, so thank God for that.
Filed Under: Movies
Poppycock | 10/14/2006 |
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