Black Mass, Hollywood's newest mafia entry directed by Scott Cooper, follows the true story of Boston's baleful phantom during the 70's and 80's: Whitey Bulger (Johnny Depp). Hearing his name now just chills you to the bone. The film commences with an FBI interrogation with one of Bulger's crewmen, Kevin Weeks (Jesse Plemons), and as the conversation carries on, it slowly builds up to finally saying that name. "I need to know everything you know about the Winter Hill gang
and, specifically, what you know about your former boss
and now fugitive
JAMES WHITEY BULGER." As soon as you hear his name uttered in such a solemn tone—mixed with Weeks' dour countenance—the exact significance behind this legend is impactfully conveyed.
Told through convenient voice-over, we retrace Bulger's beginnings all the way through his rise and, eventually, his downfall. Initially, the film's flaws were drastically more pronounced for me: it was quite unfocused in its direction, telling an overly familiar gangster tale that felt slightly messy and poorly-paced in its execution. Too much screen-time is paid to some of the rather uninteresting elements of this otherwise endlessly fascinating history. What kept me genuinely enthusiastic and engaged though were the incredible performances across the board, the majority of which are unfortunately brief but exceptionally memorable from the likes of Dakota Johnson (as Whitey's wife), Julianne Nicholson, and Peter Sarsgaard in particular. In addition, Joel Edgerton continues to prove his pure thespian prowess; he's just utterly captivating and dedicated in every role, and here, he becomes just as detestable as Matt Damon in The Departed–a foolish yet manipulative weasel. Of course, the other standout is Johnny Depp's terrifying portrayal of Bulger–easily his best showcase in the past five years.
Now, the cast and crew seem to be flip-flopping on their intentions in terms of properly handling this character. Suddenly, they're clarifying that they wanted to humanize Whitey, and that has ultimately become the annoyingly uninspired cliché of modern biopics and cinema, in general. Everyone has to be humanized; the most despicable figures in our world's history have to be humanized because it makes it oh-so-complex. Regardless of what the filmmakers claim, I saw little to no humanity in Bulger's face–his irritated mannerisms and enigmatic contemplations– which was certainly fitting in this case. It makes for a more unique venture in a genre that always tries to create sympathy and relatability out of the criminals–yes, he's soulless; he's morally vacant; and he is just as shallow as you would think. And like most biopics, the film is more so a rushed series of events in this subject's life, followed by the usual verbose "what happened to everyone afterwards?" outro before the cut to credits, rather than actually thematic and narrative cohesion.
With that being said, it's been six days since I viewed Black Mass but the more I reflected on its substance since, the more eager I've been to write up a review and get some things off my chest. As a result of the frankly unoriginal criticisms that have been thrown at this film (accusing it of simply mimicking Scorsese in a fruitless way), Black Mass's refreshing inventiveness to the genre remains understated. The fact of the matter is that never (or, at least, rarely) do we get to see actual anti-gangster pictures. No, we have Goodfellas and The Godfather and The Departed–all films that either create amusement and fun out of such twisted individuals or, essentially, turn them into dignified badasses for entertainment sake. "Man, these guys are so cool; they're alpha-males with so many friends and so much power and bam bam bam!" Black Mass, however, treats this environment like an unmitigated horror movie. There's nothing romanticized or hilarious about the disturbingly authentic murders here, not to mention the totally demented look on Depp's face–his decaying teeth biting his lip, and those frightening deep blue eyes forever widening–as he mercilessly chokes the life out of a possibly innocent young woman. The powerfully haunting and sinister score by Tom Holkenborg superbly complements the arrantly dreary atmosphere of South Boston in these times.
Much like Foxcatcher was a downright condemnation of (competitive) sports, the similarly morose grayness in the shot compositions here makes Black Mass an undeniable condemnation of this community (even though it's not nearly as thematically profound as the former). There is absolutely nothing cool about these people. Perhaps you'll lambast Depp's overt make-up for making him appear a whole lot like a vampire– even if that's true, in a way, that's certainly an interesting and effective way to exhibit the sheer eeriness of this unbelievable being; in fact, it might as well parallel the bloodthirstiness of a vampire, lurking in the shadows and prone to attack when you least expect it. Aside from Al Capone, he was the most notorious mobster who actually found his way atop the FBI's Most Wanted list right next to Osama Bin Laden–a mythic unstoppable figure that signaled dark times for Boston indeed.
Told through convenient voice-over, we retrace Bulger's beginnings all the way through his rise and, eventually, his downfall. Initially, the film's flaws were drastically more pronounced for me: it was quite unfocused in its direction, telling an overly familiar gangster tale that felt slightly messy and poorly-paced in its execution. Too much screen-time is paid to some of the rather uninteresting elements of this otherwise endlessly fascinating history. What kept me genuinely enthusiastic and engaged though were the incredible performances across the board, the majority of which are unfortunately brief but exceptionally memorable from the likes of Dakota Johnson (as Whitey's wife), Julianne Nicholson, and Peter Sarsgaard in particular. In addition, Joel Edgerton continues to prove his pure thespian prowess; he's just utterly captivating and dedicated in every role, and here, he becomes just as detestable as Matt Damon in The Departed–a foolish yet manipulative weasel. Of course, the other standout is Johnny Depp's terrifying portrayal of Bulger–easily his best showcase in the past five years.
Now, the cast and crew seem to be flip-flopping on their intentions in terms of properly handling this character. Suddenly, they're clarifying that they wanted to humanize Whitey, and that has ultimately become the annoyingly uninspired cliché of modern biopics and cinema, in general. Everyone has to be humanized; the most despicable figures in our world's history have to be humanized because it makes it oh-so-complex. Regardless of what the filmmakers claim, I saw little to no humanity in Bulger's face–his irritated mannerisms and enigmatic contemplations– which was certainly fitting in this case. It makes for a more unique venture in a genre that always tries to create sympathy and relatability out of the criminals–yes, he's soulless; he's morally vacant; and he is just as shallow as you would think. And like most biopics, the film is more so a rushed series of events in this subject's life, followed by the usual verbose "what happened to everyone afterwards?" outro before the cut to credits, rather than actually thematic and narrative cohesion.
With that being said, it's been six days since I viewed Black Mass but the more I reflected on its substance since, the more eager I've been to write up a review and get some things off my chest. As a result of the frankly unoriginal criticisms that have been thrown at this film (accusing it of simply mimicking Scorsese in a fruitless way), Black Mass's refreshing inventiveness to the genre remains understated. The fact of the matter is that never (or, at least, rarely) do we get to see actual anti-gangster pictures. No, we have Goodfellas and The Godfather and The Departed–all films that either create amusement and fun out of such twisted individuals or, essentially, turn them into dignified badasses for entertainment sake. "Man, these guys are so cool; they're alpha-males with so many friends and so much power and bam bam bam!" Black Mass, however, treats this environment like an unmitigated horror movie. There's nothing romanticized or hilarious about the disturbingly authentic murders here, not to mention the totally demented look on Depp's face–his decaying teeth biting his lip, and those frightening deep blue eyes forever widening–as he mercilessly chokes the life out of a possibly innocent young woman. The powerfully haunting and sinister score by Tom Holkenborg superbly complements the arrantly dreary atmosphere of South Boston in these times.
Much like Foxcatcher was a downright condemnation of (competitive) sports, the similarly morose grayness in the shot compositions here makes Black Mass an undeniable condemnation of this community (even though it's not nearly as thematically profound as the former). There is absolutely nothing cool about these people. Perhaps you'll lambast Depp's overt make-up for making him appear a whole lot like a vampire– even if that's true, in a way, that's certainly an interesting and effective way to exhibit the sheer eeriness of this unbelievable being; in fact, it might as well parallel the bloodthirstiness of a vampire, lurking in the shadows and prone to attack when you least expect it. Aside from Al Capone, he was the most notorious mobster who actually found his way atop the FBI's Most Wanted list right next to Osama Bin Laden–a mythic unstoppable figure that signaled dark times for Boston indeed.