Nothing in classic rock begins as menacingly as Gimme Shelter, a scathing portrait of war and violence in a half-crazed America rolled out by a bunch of blazingly talented Englishmen from London.
According to the Rolling Stone magazine, ‘The intro, strummed on an electric-acoustic guitar modelled on a Chuck Berry favourite, conjures an unparalleled aura of dread’. According to Mick Jagger himself, who sung it with a voice dripping with acid and panic, ‘It’s apocalypse’.
And even as it is a truly devastating piece of music on its own terms, let’s just admit that it could not been even half as apocalyptic, had not America’s greatest living legend of cinema taken it and used the Stones classic to such a terrifying effect that we today remember the first strains of that immortal Keith Richards intro along with the unforgettably grainy opening images of one of the finest crime dramas of all time.
Sure, Martin Scorsese had done it before, making Henry Hill in the great, great ‘Goodfellas’ snort lines of cocaine while we heard that sound in the backdrop. But this was something else.
Marty takes the cue from the song, presenting as a grim, sordid and crime-ridden Boston teeming with chaos and reigned by a criminal king who, in his own extraordinary words, ‘wants his environment to be his product’.
We get it- Frank Costello rules these mean streets of violence and darkness.
And it is with this prologue- one that I called as the best use of music in a Scorsese film- that ‘The Departed’ begins- an emotionally fraught, darkly hilarious and shockingly violent roller coaster cinematic ride through the eternal battle between good and evil. A cops-and-criminals yarn of such fascinating sleight of hand and devastating emotional heft that it could be called as an everlasting tragedy of nearly Shakespearean weight.
And above all, it is a film that reminds us that true masters can make truly great remakes. Adapted from the brilliant and acclaimed Chinese cop thriller ‘Infernal Affairs’- and, to some extent, its sequels- ‘The Departed’ is nevertheless a feat of pure, unadulterated American cinema since the maverick filmmaker takes the bare bones of the source material and fleshes them with the sights, smells and sounds of an authentically decadent and morally depraved Boston and ends up creating a film which is more than just its calculatingly intelligent plot.
And what a plot it is. Rooted in one of the most traditional themes of confused identity and conflicted loyalty in a time of war, it casts two men hailing from the same crime-ridden neighbourhood but choosing opposite sides of the law. Billy Costigan, a hot-headed youngster seeking an escape from a legacy of crime, chooses to be a part of the Staties, as the blue-collared State Police is called in Boston-lingo. On the other hand is Colin Sullivan, who, as a quiet boy, was seduced in a world of crime by none other than Costello but is destined for a bigger task that will earn him both respect and his guardian’s favours.
Fate takes them on their different paths- Costigan becomes a reluctant informer to prove his credentials while Sullivan, in a flash of irony, is welcomed warmly as a rising star in the circuits of the State Police. There is no question, however, of his loyalty to his ‘father’.
That is all you all virgins need to know.
What you need to know, or rather see for yourself, is the way how Scorsese, aided in no small measure by William Monahan’s extraordinary script, takes this meticulous premise and adds incredible layers of emotion, drama, tension and unexpected bursts of humour to make for a truly compelling film.
Right at the go, the film sneaks up with both Sullivan and Costigan going about their destined paths, following them stealthily and also illustrating a stark and unsettling contrast between their individual experiences. So while Sullivan rises inside the department and even entreats himself to a possible romance with the pretty psychotherapist Madolyn, Costigan struggles to keep both his rookie vulnerability and unstable temper from leading to his discovery. Yet, just when you think that there is only a contrast, Scorsese and Monahan flip the template expertly. They both seem to be doing their job with obsessive perfection- Sullivan desperately sabotages well-planned raids and arrests while Costigan endears himself to the rest of the gang to win their trust. But the best is clearly not enough, especially not when you have a terrifying shadow of evil looming over you.
That shadow is none other than Costello, a man possessed with the idea of holding on to all of Boston even as the times are changing around him. Jack Nicholson plays Costello with the spectacularly smarmy and sleazy panache of his greatest work in the past and delivers a repulsive monster that is impossible to look away from. His archetype Boston kingpin, based loosely on the real-like James ‘Whitey’ Bulger, is a showboating villain of the piece, a grandiose and maliciously funny man who loves his share of sex, powder and bloodshed. He is smart enough to play some tricks up his sleeve but he is clearly playing a losing game.
The entire cast is phenomenal, as a matter of fact, with both Leonardo Di Caprio and Matt Damon playing Costigan and Sullivan with unprecedented skill and flair; Di Caprio endows his high-strung and fiery character with dignity and credible predicament while Damon goes a step further and gives his professional liar the kind of devilish charisma that we saw in ‘The Talented Mr. Ripley'. Vera Farmiga is instantly intriguing as Madolyn, here torn between her heart and her head, and veterans like Alec Baldwin and Martin Sheen get delectable roles as unlikely father figures for both the men in question. Ray Winstone stands out as the staunchly loyal henchman Mr. French and Mark Wahlberg, playing the foul-mouthed, no-nonsense cop Dignam, steals every scene that features him.
And the great director takes all of them together and builds around a throbbing, theatrical drama that is bursting at the seams with fastidious detail. We see cops squabbling over undercover operations, gangsters cracking jokes, Costello indulging in all sorts of ribaldry (from pummelling Costigan’s broken arm to delivering a platitude with an amputated hand to teasing Catholic priests about their vows) to the two moles themselves struggling to keep the show going and also trying to find out about each other.
It is one hell of a setup and trust Marty to ratchet up the tension in unexpected ways. While the film keeps most of the twists and turns from the original intact, it also riffs on its own and delivers enough genuinely startling and enthralling surprises. A nocturnal chase through Boston’s alleys feels like pure neo-noir while a silent and seething confrontation on a phone call is pure edge-of-the-seat suspense delivered by a master. It all comes with a healthy sauce of pure Scorsese blood and ball-busting wordplay; Both hyper violence and hinted menace are all over the frames, along with Monahan’s punchy, beautifully profane dialogue that references Freud, James Joyce and even John Lennon but never forgets to roll out the explosive F-bombs with all the talk.
And yet, even with all the breakneck thrills and spills (shot snappily by Michael Ballhaus and edited with relentless pace by Thelma Schoonmaker), it is when Marty lets in the tumultuous emotions that the film becomes really special. Watch Costello bribe a young Sullivan with groceries and a comic book to make him his ward. Watch Sullivan reveal his rough edges on a dinner date with Madolyn. Watch as Costigan bares his tortured heart to the latter in one of his sessions and watch as both the men face off in the film’s gruesome, sprawling climax, setting the stage for a truly heart-breaking finale. It is the utter mastery of sentiments in ‘The Departed’ that make us side up with each character, good or evil, and creates a truly stunning and elegiac cinematic feast that we never imagined of. Just try to hold those guilty tears when Costello’s paramour calls him moments after he has been killed in cold blood.
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