In South Boston, the state police force is waging war on Irish-American organized crime. Young undercover cop Billy Costigan is assigned to infiltrate the mob syndicate run by gangland chief Frank Costello. While Billy quickly gains Costello's confidence, Colin Sullivan, a hardened young criminal who has infiltrated the state police as an informer for the syndicate is rising to a position of power in the Special Investigation Unit. Each man becomes deeply consumed by their double lives, gathering information about the plans and counter-plans of the operations they have penetrated. But when it becomes clear to both the mob and the police that there is a mole in their midst, Billy and Colin are suddenly in danger of being caught and exposed to the enemy - and each must race to uncover the identity of the other man in time to save themselves. But is either willing to turn on their friends and comrades they've made during their long stints undercover?Written by
(at around 1h 10 mins) When Madolyn first moves in with Sullivan, he teases her for her box of nostalgia after looking at her childhood photo. A few scenes later when Costigan stops by her place while she is packing, the same photo is up on the wall of her place. See more »
[while having coffee]
What would you do if your boyfriend was standing right there and he saw us? Huh?
I would lie.
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The title doesn't appear on screen until nearly 20 minutes into the movie. See more »
Written by Scotty Moore (as Winfield Scott)
Performed by La Vern Baker (as LaVern Baker)
Courtesy of Atlantic Recording Corp.
By Arrangement with Warner Music Group Film & TV Licensing See more »
I'm never going to be in a position to win an Oscar, so maybe I just don't understand how goshdarn fab it is to get one. Still, were I Martin Scorsese, I can't imagine not being too ashamed to show my face in public after receiving an Oscar for this claptrap. This isn't a Martin Scorsese film; this is a Saturday Night Live sendup of a Martin Scorsese film. This is the Academy saying, "Well, we didn't give him one for Gangs of New York or for Good Fellas, and he's getting a little long in the tooth, after all. We'd better give him an Oscar for this before he croaks." Is there anyone -- ANYONE??? -- in this film, with the possible exception of DiCaprio, who isn't acting following a major dose of Xanax? (Matt Damon evidently took his Xanax after a lobotomy that was so botched that he could no longer even change his facial expression.) And what's with Mark Wahlberg's HAIR??? Is there any redeeming social value in scene after scene (after scene) of heads exploding in a red cloud? Even Scorsese is bored with depicting violence; he does it because it's expected of him, not because he really gives a damn anymore. You're stupid enough to want it; he's jaded enough to give it to you. A plot line with more holes in it than the hull of The Titanic. Characters about as appealing as Jeffrey Dahmer. You can't care what happens to a single person in this film, and you can't even care that the moral center collapses about an hour in. This film isn't even sickening; it's just dull, dull-witted, and trashy. Scorsese got his Oscar out of sympathy; too bad the film doesn't have any for the viewer.
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