Departed From Sense

Directors like Martin Scorsese, a stylistic genius, should rarely be given more than a dirty street, a few nasty cuss words, and buckets of blood with which to make their films. Living more on adrenaline rushes and atmosphere than art, Scorsese remains one of the premier sculptors of visual dynamic and mounting tension. Unfortunately his ambitions to tell larger, complex stories often interfere with his greatest strengths, muting his colorful canvases. Such is the case with his newest film, "The Departed."

The mechanism behind the plot, lifted entirely from a Hong Kong action film entitled "Infernal Affairs," is fairly straightforward: a Boston crime boss named Costello (Jack Nicholson) plants a mole named Sullivan (Matt Damon) inside police headquarters just as the chief of police (Martin Sheen) is planting a mole by the name of Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) inside the crime syndicate. Eventually the two moles learn of the existence of their counterpart, and then the clock ticks down as they race to uncover each other.

The plot, already heavily loaded with nefarious schemes and double-crossing agents, becomes a tangled mess during the first hour as various characters scream and punch each other without any tangible reference to reason. The fault for this lies entirely with Scorsese. Despite the film's 146 minute running time, precious little screen time is devoted to fleshing out most of the characters that come and go throughout the film. Instead, we are slammed and shuttled quickly through a multitude of set-pieces, some of which pay off nicely with crackling intensity. However, the failure of Scorsese to ground the film's characters and serpentine plot with emotional or rational resonance throughout destroys the climax, which ends with a stunning triple jolt that left my audience laughing. Surely the reaction would have been shock and horror in those final, brilliant minutes had Scorsese built a more solid foundation with his characters earlier in the picture.

A large, wonderful cast tries to breathe life into the cardboard cutouts assigned to them by screenwriter William Monahan, some succeeding more than others. As the policeman sent in to infiltrate the mob, DiCaprio unleashes previously unseen violence and nervous energy. DiCaprio, for perhaps the first time in his career, actually seems like a legitimate threat to those who might cross him, swiftly pouncing on victims with vicious, brutal beatings. The only false note in this charismatic performance occurs during an interrogation by Nicholson's Costello: as Costello continues to ask if Costigen is the mole, DiCaprio plays Costigen so nervously that it would be obvious to anyone at all, let alone a ruthless mob boss, that Costigen was the traitor. Matt Damon, as DiCaprio's counterpart, plays Sullivan with a snake's charm, his toothy, leering smile slicing wickedly under his beady eyes. The performance is at once commanding and subtle. Supporting performances by Sheen, Mark Wahlberg, and Alec Baldwin shine, adding a much-needed jolt of humor and humanity.

Unfortunately, the one performance Scorsese should have reigned in is allowed to overthrow the entire film; Nicholson's portrayal of Costello is grotesque and ludicrous. Entering the picture in the opening seconds, liberally spouting off about "niggers" and "faggots" and asking underaged girls about their periods, Costello is established as a slimy, dominating villain. After that shadowy entrance, Nicholson allows the wheels to fly off of his performance: his eyes roll in their sockets, he bares his teeth and imitates a rat, he sings crazy versions of Irish folk songs, and even eats a fly in one ridiculous moment. At the conclusion, Nicholson does a nearly note-for-note re-enactment of the conclusion to his "Batman" performance; in fact, so closely does the performance resemble his Joker that one would not be far off to wonder if Scorsese was paying homage to Tim Burton's comic book classic.

Despite these problems, the ultimate blame lies with Scorsese. When confronted with a script with so many machinations and unlikely coincidences, a director must adequately sort out the information and present it in a way that makes sense. No amount of style, over-acting, or bloodletting can distract an audience for very long. While "The Departed" is a welcomed relief from Scorsese's recent run of overblown, Oscar-baiting vanity projects, it lacks the simple narrative thrust of the director's best work. No amount of Nicholson can disguise that.