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montgomery wrote: I think that's a really misguided comment.

... and I completely agree with you montgomery. I think it's ludicrous to just turn off your brain and accept any absurd form of logic that a film provides that conflicts with it's internal reality.

montgomery wrote:Are we all just cynical assholes who take films too literally or seriously?

Probably not.

montgomery wrote:Is it possible that we have a legitimate quibble with the film?

Yes, it's quite possible.

montgomery wrote:Is it possible that Scorsese could have tightened this part of the story up so that it would have been more believable and ultimately satisfying?

Yeah, it probably could have used a little work.

However...

montgomery wrote:Therefore, when neither Nicholson, anyone in his gang or Matt Damon thinks to suspect DiCaprio, it breaks the illusion of reality.

... they do suspect him and interrogate him regarding their suspicions quite often.

montgomery wrote:If they do suspect him, why do they never once follow him?

I think you have to remember that the confirmation and resulting consequences of the crew being infiltrated by a mole all happen within a matter of days, and include Frank conducting an interrogation of Billy. In fact Frank sets up an elaborate scheme "using another crew" to weed out the infiltrator, but it never comes to its expected conclusion because Frank is dead before he can fit everything together.

montgomery wrote:The problem is that Nicholson's character, in general, seems to have no compunction about killing anyone, and also will go to great lengths in order to take care of business. So, when he has a, what, 4, 5 person gang whom he's had for years, and suddenly he adds a new member and finds that every new deal he's making is apparently being watched by the police, and has to rely on Damon to call off or mislead the cops so that he can still maintain his crime organization, it seems rather implausible that Costello does little-to-nothing to deal with this situation.

I think we should keep in mind that as despicable as Frank makes himself out to be, in many ways he also treats both Billy and Colin as his own sons. Hence, though Frank seems willing to off anyone, the question becomes why he doesn't feel comfortable immediately killing Billy. It seems apparent, given the amount of time he spends with Billy, reminiscing about Billy's father and their shared ties to the community, that they have developed some form of bond, that Franks finds difficult to shake without at least a brief hesitation.

The problem is that Nicholson's character, in general, seems to have no compunction about killing anyone, and also will go to great lengths in order to take care of business. So, when he has a, what, 4, 5 person gang whom he's had for years, and suddenly he adds a new member and finds that every new deal he's making is apparently being watched by the police, and has to rely on Damon to call off or mislead the cops so that he can still maintain his crime organization, it seems rather implausible that Costello does little-to-nothing to deal with this situation.

I think Andre's comment comes close to understanding this:

Andre wrote:I think we should keep in mind that as despicable as Frank makes himself out to be, in many ways he also treats both Billy and Colin as his own sons. Hence, though Frank seems willing to off anyone, the question becomes why he doesn't feel comfortable immediately killing Billy. It seems apparent, given the amount of time he spends with Billy, reminiscing about Billy's father and their shared ties to the community, that they have developed some form of bond, that Franks finds difficult to shake without at least a brief hesitation.

We must remember that Leo's character is not just a random, unkown addition to the gang, but one who has a considerable amount of familial connection with Jack and the Chicago mob. Likewise, Leo is essentially one of their own, a kid from the streets who, it seems, has done time in jail and now wants to make money in the only fashion street kids know. We should note that Leo never approaches Jack for a job; part of his tactic was to entice Jack while seeming disinterested. When Leo is taken on it is not some random gesture, but a calculated choice.

This is all to say that Leo is not the expendable "outsider" that some people make him out to be. He is just as much "one of the guys" as the rest of them; so the movie gets away with sparing Leo an immediate, savage judgement on behalf of Jack's crew.

There's also frequent mention in the film of Costello getting older and the possibility that he's somewhat losing his touch. That and the need to find a successor surely play a role in his hesitancy to believe that the only one in his gang who might actually be able to take the reins from him could be a mole.

Finally got around to seeing this tonight and was suitably impressed. I liked it quite a bit actually, save for a few caveats. The main one is that I found much of, if not most of, the stuff with the shrink to be pretty useless. I mean, I get that it serves a plot purpose but it's one of those things that comes across as just oh so contrived. Does Leo have it written into his contract somewhere that he always has to boff the leading lady? It's pretty tiresome as most of the movie is such an inventive reworking of cliched material that these scenes stand out and give rise to predictable "tension" (thank God Scorsese doesn't follow up on who's baby Vera's carrying). In theory I don't mind the psychiatrist having an affair with a fucked up patient but I do when it all feels so contrived and unnecessary--the movie is really uninterested in women anyway. Still, it has to be said that Leo is so damn good that he manages to sell every scene he's in (in my mind he's the real secret weapon here, not Jack).

Jack's performance was great for the most part. There are only a few moments where he gets off the leash and provokes some eye rolls. For the most part he seems to fit this character, this archetypal character, quite well. It may be easy but he is an iconic personality (here I mean Frank not Jack) and bringing in an actor with that kind of immediate quality fills the bill. It's not as though Scorsese was ever attempting to deny the origins of this material. He simply wants to refine them.

Having said all that, what do we make of the final shot? I imagine most of you probably hate it and I certainly can't say that I like it much myself. If we had just got a pan up to the window, sans obvious signifier, I think that would have been a superb way to go out--especially as this view includes the golden dome that Damon fixates on. Was Scorsese going for a direct symbolic statement with the final shot? It seems so but is it as obvious as it seems? After all there is that conflict between the background and foreground....

Also, forgive the question if the answer is obvious to everyone else but what exactly is the building Damon fixates on? I assume it's the church he grew up in but I don't remember any shots of it in the early section. Is the constant return to this image meant to play like the use of images of the church in Deer Hunter? In other words as a background to the community but one that has ultimately receded in its importance to that community (Cimino often framed the top of the church so that it was diminished in size behind other buildings)? It's funny to me that many have said that this is Scorsese's least religious work when, in fact, that may be part of his point. The corruption of the ideal is indicated several times (the scene with the priests in the restaurant, for instance) and its resultant lack of prominence is all too understandable; its absence produces the fatalism we see. The identities and physical existences of the characters are not the only thing that has departed.

its the State House

Barmy wrote:

I also saw it with a New York audience (at the packed Lincoln Square on 68th Street) and they loved it ...

So I guess we should start a new thread: whose New York audience was smarter, Barmy's or mine?

Ahhh, but I saw it with a downtown audience...

So that proves it....I had the smarter audience!

Interesting ongoing discussion about this film, including comments by David Bordwell.

redbill wrote:its the State House

Thanks for clearing this up. Though I'm tempted to say that this scuttles my whole point I don't think that's necessarily so. Certainly this can be seen as a "sacred space", albeit in a secular sense. The association is not excessive, I think. And clearly it has an effect on Damon's character; what that is is more in question. Does it haunt him with his own more noble potentialities or does it torment him? It seems likely that it's the former as I can't imagine he would want to live there if that wasn't the case. Of course an argument could be made that it develops an effect on him. Either way this material adds a depth to Damon's character that is otherwise lacking.

Also, what did folks think about the ending (and here I'm not talking about the final shot)? Upon reflection, what I like about it is the fact that it can so effectively be used to support an argument that the movie is either solid or misguided. Those who see the final scene as a cop out in which we get a Hollywood style happy ending (of a sort, anyway) where the bad guy receives his due can simply use its existence as evidence of their point. However, it can just as easily be argued that on a metatextual level the brutal efficiency of this finale is blunt and anticlimactic. It serves to undercut those same Hollywood set expectations with its almost perfunctory quality. Everyone will ultimately meet the same "justice" and there is little inherently moral about it. It just confirms the fatalistic attitude of the whole picture in which characters flail to find meaningful action.

I think this idea was more visible in Infernal Affairs, but the Damon character wanted to "go good". He was studying law, so the state-house could have been his symbol of becoming a lawyer and going clean. (insert lawyer joker here)

Michael Kerpan wrote:Interesting ongoing discussion about this film, including comments by David Bordwell.

If in any way The Departed was poorly edited, then it wouldn't have flew by as fast as it did in its two and a half hour running time. If there's one thing Scorsese has mastered, it's momentum. I wipe my ass with this guy's sour grapes... The faster we can get back Ebert, the better...

I love it when defenders of a film respond "HE MEANT IT TO BE THAT WAY!" when someone DARES to be critical.

You're a daring guy.

Invunche calling someone daring? If anyone could inspire outrage in this place it would surely be him... or am I forgetting my sarcasmotron?

SncDthMnky wrote:Invunche calling someone daring? If anyone could inspire outrage in this place it would surely be him... or am I forgetting my sarcasmotron?

The latter.

The Departed thread, 2:09 PM Eastern:

Barmy wrote:I love it when defenders of a film respond "HE MEANT IT TO BE THAT WAY!" when someone DARES to be critical.

Maria Antoinette thread, 2:54 PM Eastern:

Barmy wrote:As is usually the case, Armond's strident criticism just makes the film seem more appealing. SOFIA INTENDED IT TO BE INANE AND IDIOTIC!

This is quite the elaborate joke.

you win the internet

We should give him the benefit of the doubt. With advances in modern medicine, doctors may be able to switch brains in 45 minutes or less. But I doubt the hospital has wi-fi.

Finally saw this film yesterday, and I've just been reading through the more recent replies on this thread;

First and foremost; I enjoyed it.

Onto the smaller details:
I think it's a bit of pity Scorsese chose not to see the original. It seems to me that one of the main reasons to do a remake is as a response to the original film. I wonder how Scorsese would have treated the religious element, if he knew about all the religious themes in Infernal Affairs (perhaps, he would have taken the same, minimal, approach that he chose anyway.)

The final scene, I think, worked purely because of the title. The deaths of all the major characters was, basically, set up in the first ten minutes when that title came onscreen.

Didn't much bother me, because I'd already seen Infernal Affairs, but I think the death of Martin Sheen's character could have been a great moment if only they had cut the two shots of him being attacked and of him falling. The actual, almost offscreen, impact with the blood/water splashing up on DiCaprio was a great little moment and would have worked so much better as a complete surprise.

My main thought on this film; great cast. I thought Nicholson was used well, basically playing the standard Jack Nicholson character (very well photographed, though. I don't think he looked this demonic even in Witches Of Eastwick) I don't see why people have a problem with Nicholson's very typical performance (especially considering Joe Pesci's well-received performances in Goodfellas and Casino)
Baldwin was good, but I think the script made him a little *too* much of a clown. Baldwin great talent is with the more subtle humor he had in 'The Aviator'
Wahlberg was suprising watchable. As one of those younger-actors who I'm not much interested in, I was surprised by just how entertaining he was here (partly due to a colorfully written role, but he really did his dialogue justice)
Damon was solid, and consistently believable. DiCaprio was, again, impressive. I thought he ruined Gangs Of New York but in The Aviator he really demonstrated some talent and intensity which continues in The Departed.
Martin Sheen was perfect in his few scenes. Easily the film's most likable character.

The subdued look of the film, I think, worked remarkably well (especially given Scorsese's usual tendency towards bright colors) and the lack of overtly 'operatic' sequences (except for one or two nice moments.) It was an unusual choice (especially considering the style of the original Infernal Affairs) but I found it really enjoyable. The whole film felt like something he might have made in 1970s, in the era of Who's That Knocking At My Door? or Mean Streets and as such I found it particularly pleasant departure from most Hollywood films (and I actually *like* the more 'operatic' stuff (Casino, Lord of the Rings, etc.) so I was most suprised to find myself enjoying The Departed's style as much as I did.)

All in all, I think I summed my views up well at the beginning. I enjoyed it, and in a film like that (most films, for me) that's the most important thing. I'd easily rate it alongside movies like The Untouchables and even Scorsese's Cape Fear (the most obvious point of comparison.)

This is the review I wrote for my blog:

THE DEPARTED (2006)

Set in gritty mean streets of Boston, "The Departed" finds Martin Scorcese, one of the greatest American filmmakers alive, return to the film genre he made popular: the crime drama. And in grand Scorcese tradition, his new work is a tour-de-force of style; it is also ultraviolent (perhaps the most violent mainstream film of the year) and totally unsympathetic in its exploration of the dark underbelly of organised crime and the people sworn to fight it.

Uneasily nestled inside this sprawling epic of trust and betrayal, of deception and loyalty, is a dramatic personal story of two young men: Billy Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon), both fresh-out-of-academy cops. The twist is that they are moles each playing the other side – Costigan is an idealist undercover cop in the mafia and Sullivan is an undercover criminal who has infiltrated the police department to feed intelligence back to the bag guys! It's a highly original thematic conceit; and this is where I must mention "The Departed" is a remake of the 2002 Asian masterpiece "Infernal Affairs" (but more on that later).

Frank Costello: "Cops or Criminals… when you're facing a loaded gun, what's the difference?"

Sullivan was planted inside the police for the sole purpose of aiding Frank Costello, an Irish mafia boss played by Jack Nicholson. Costello is a larger-than-life version of the celebrity demigod we know as Jack Nicholson. In recent years, we've seen Nicholson play screen characters that have unintentionally lampooned his real life persona, his quirks and taste for theatricality; you know, the kind of things tabloid pundits take great relish in documenting. In "The Departed" Nicholson finds the perfect means to unleash his paper dragon – Costello is an unpredictable and ruthless maniac, a man so exceedingly arrogant and depraved that he could be the devil incarnate. Costello doesn't give a damn about anything: in fact, over the years he has authored a twisted view of the world, and now lives by his deviant logic. If Costello engages in crime it is not for need for power but because he really really likes it! In Frank Costello's mind his way is the only way to live. (The film opens with a great monologue that includes the line "I don't wanna be a product of my environment, I want my environment to be a product of me.") Now with old age upon him – as he faintly hears the grim reaper knock – Costello is spiteful and more dangerous than ever. To feel alive he indulges in petulant thrill-seeking like staying on the front lines of drug deals and personally facilitating grotesque murders (consider one such darkly comical moment: after Costello has shot a woman point blank in back of the head, he sniggers with a touch of disappointment: "She fell funny.") Frank Costello is a truly evil character, and yet he is strangely endearing all thanks to Nicholson's exuberance. Not one for subtlety, let's appreciate the fact that Nicholson defies precepts of nuance and complexity that most classically trained actors hold dear. Here he is a force of nature, and had the film been only about his character it would still be every bit as compelling. Perhaps better.

This brings us to the main plot thrust of "The Departed" – the fragile undercover situation between DiCaprio's Costigan and Damon's Sullivan. The tension of the film is supposed to exist in the question 'What will happen when any one of them is discovered?' We are asked to believe that Costigan is the suffering idealist while Sullivan who is the cocky son-of-a-bitch living a luxurious life also agonises (in silence) from the strain of his double-life. For the audience it's a leap of faith with the Sullivan character because, frankly, he's not very likeable. But this is to the writer and director's discredit, not Matt Damon who is effecting in the role. Similarly, despite DiCaprio's best efforts he just doesn't have enough back story and room to emote the angst and bewilderment of Costigan – the sacrifice of this character formed the basis of the original "Infernal Affairs."

For the American remake, writer William Monahan adapted the original script by Siu Fai Mak and Felix Chong. It's an interesting predicament when there are two kinds of audience for a film: the first type are folks who have not seen the original and so they cannot make comparisons; the second type of audience has seen the original, and they cannot help themselves. Having seen "Infernal Affairs" – a beautiful, complex and elegant crime drama – I find myself irritated by some of the contrivances of this remake. Although Scorcese and Monahan faithfully follow the basic plot outline of the original and have made the story their own, "The Departed" lacks the emotional wallop and prescient sensibility of "Infernal Affairs." Scorcese's film is more narrative-driven and relies heavily on plot detail to fuel its engine. The characterisation feels a little shallow and designed to propel the film to denouement.

The best moments in "The Departed" are literally the ones lifted from "Infernal Affairs," the chance meetings and encounters between Costigan and Sullivan – this is when "The Departed" feels true to these characters. I have spent considerable time talking about the Frank Costello character because he is an original invention of "The Departed." As wild and outrageous and totally fucked up his character may appear, he feels real and in service to the wicked world of the film.

I can say that "The Departed" is one of the most purely entertaining films from the Scorcese canon. It has crackling dialogue, Jack Nicholson as Frank Costello, great support acting (I must single out Mark Walhberg as the hard-nosed, acid-tongued detective Dignam) and, of course, Scorcese's extraordinary director eye. But remove the Scorcese brand and "The Departed" is just another well-crafted American gangster film made using the canvas of a vastly superior Asian film. 3.5/5

It seems to me that one of the main reasons to do a remake is as a response to the original film.

I'm a bit curious as to why you would think that.

on the Iwo Jima thread he complains that their wasn't enough cursing in the film and here he claims there's too much.

I'm sure he's really annoyed by all the attention he gets on this forum...negative attention is better than no attention at all. Mommy should have given him more toys; woulda played with hisself less.

Jun-Dai wrote:

It seems to me that one of the main reasons to do a remake is as a response to the original film.

I'm a bit curious as to why you would think that.

I'm talking, I should clarify, about the main *artistic* reason for a remake, the reason someone like Martin Scorsese (as opposed to, say, Brett Ratner) might choose to remake a film, and I think the main opportinity it provides is to create a variation of the original, even taking some elements in the exact opposite direction (the best example that comes to mind, is Scorsese's own Cape Fear, were he eliminated the simple 'good vs evil' elements of the original in order to focus on the flaws of Nick Nolte's character and on the more admirable ambitions (education, etc.) of DeNiro's character.)

Perhaps 'response' isn't the best word; what I mean is to tweak the remake in new and alternative, often opposite, ways.

I think we should all keep in mind, though, that this is essentially a "work for hire." Scorsese did not originate the project, and though he is listed as a producer on the film, he came onto the project after it had already been developed. In this case, I think Scorsese just took on a project he felt was sympathetic to his sensibilities. He did not assist in its creation from the ground up as he did with, say, most of his other films. The Departed is more After Hours than it is Goodfellas, Casino, or even Cape Fear.

I read that Martin himself was still tinkering with it a couple of weeks before release. Even with all that said, I still think it's good. As a crime story, it's not something you see nowadays in a major Hollywood film. Reminded me in alot of ways of Magnum Force, and with an even stronger resemblance to the under-rated State Of Grace. I think as far as the angle with the shrink goes, we should be glad it was cast with an unknown rather than one of today's starlets. Overall, it won't be remembered as his best obviously but it was something worthwhile for him to do after The Aviator & Gangs of New York.

Long time member... rare poster. However, I also recently viewed The Departed and have a couple of things to add, particularly as Mr Bordwell has been brought into the discussion.

Bordwell says, "Speaking of editing: It's blasphemy, but I've been long convinced that Scorsese's films aren't particularly well-edited. Look at any conversation scene, particularly the OTS [over-the-shoulder] passages, and you'll see blatant mismatches of position, eyeline, and gesture. Spoons, hands, and cigarettes jump around spasmodically. In "The Departed," Alec Baldwin somehow loses his beer can in a reverse shot, and in the swanky restaurant, it's hard to determine if there are one or two of those towering chocolate desserts on the table."

Surely these are continuity errors rather than errors in the film's editing? Furthermore, the entire film is just about one jump-cut after another. Upon closer inspection virtually none of the continuity matches from shot to shot. I certainly believe this is a deliberate approach to the film's structure. Obviously some of the matching on action from shot to shot is closer than others, but on the whole the film seems to really 'struggle' for continuity, although I believe this is just the point of the editing.

Again Mr Bordwell states, "This may seem picky, but craft competence is not for nothing. Current reliance on tightly framed faces tends to sacrifice any sense of the specifics of a place. In most scenes, actors are so overcloseupped that little space is left for geography, even the mundane layout of a police station. Choppy cutting also subtly jars our sense of a smooth performance. Why can't our directors sustain a fixed two-shot of the principals and let the actors carry the scene -– not just with the lines they say but with the way they hold their bodies and move their hands and employ props? Scorsese, though always a heavy shot/reverse-shot user, held full shots to greater effect in earlier movies."

Fine. But why base a criticism, valid or not, of Hollywood in general on The Departed alone. Moreover, as I said previously, I am convinced that this approach was deliberate with form and content related to one another. Geography is not neccessarily the point of this film, I mean it is not showing that is often just as important as showing. Of course, Mr Bordwell has written several books on Classic Hollywood Cinema and no doubt Mr Scorsese's lack of following classic continuity (to some degree at least) does not sit well with him. Moreover, I've seen plenty of films that hold two-shots, etc, and are no good. The editing has to match the film, not simply adhere to Mr Bordwell's "the rules and guidelines of classic continuity". Different horses for different courses.

"Space on a larger scale matters too. The atmosphere of Hong Kong was conveyed far more vividly in the original "IA" than the landscape of Boston is here. The most concrete locale seems to be a Chinatown porn theatre (filmed at New York's Cinema Village). There's also a gilded State House dome that is distressing in its lumpy symbolism."

Ah huh. So, now we are comparing two films and, of course, the HK version is deemed by Mr Bordwell to be superior. We all know that Mr Bordwell also has a strong proclivity for cinema of the HK variety. Yes, the films share the same or at least a similar script, but they are different films. In fact I should think for someone like Mr Bordwell that this would be an interesting phenomenon. I mean rarely are we afforded the opportunity to explore two filmmakers using the one script to make separate films. Note also the cheap shot at The Departed's use of a Chinatown porn theatre. So what is the suggestion here, the Mr Scorsese is a cheap perv?

"The Departed has calmed Scorsese's urge to track a bit, but that's balanced by its over 3200 cuts. The result is an average shot length (ASL) of about 2.7 seconds. Not unusual for an action picture nowadays, but consider where Scorsese started by conning these ASLs:
"Mean Streets" 7.7 seconds
"Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore" 8.0 seconds
"Taxi Driver" 7.3 seconds
"King of Comedy" 7.7 seconds
"Gangs of New York" 6.7 seconds
"The Aviator" 3.6 seconds

Like his contemporaries, Scorsese has succumbed to the fast-cut, hyper-close style that has made our movies so pictorially routine, however well-suited they may be for display on TV monitors and computer screens and iPods. In 1990 he seems to have realized that he needed to pick up the pace. Of "GoodFellas" (ASL 6.7 seconds) he remarked: “I guess the main thing that's happened in the past ten years is that the scenes [shots] have to be quicker and shorter. ["GoodFellas"] is sort of my version of MTV. . . but even that's old-fashionedâ€