The Departed
The Overdue Masterpiece: Reevaluating The Departed on its 20th Anniversary
Martin Scorsese is, in my eyes, the best working director today. Even though I haven't caught up with every single title in his massive filmography—classic gaps like The King of Comedy, After Hours, and The Last Temptation of Christ are still on my watchlist—his unmatched enthusiasm for the medium of film shines through every frame of his work.
Scorsese notoriously prepares his casts and crews by having them watch classic films to evoke a specific mood or feeling. His movies are loaded with sumptuous, period-accurate detail. Lately, his films have grown into massive epics—both The Irishman and Killers of the Flower Moon push well past the three-hour mark. Yet, if I am watching them in a cinema, I will rarely take a bathroom break. I simply cannot take my eyes off the screen.
As a film fan, it often feels like The Departed suffers from a lingering resentment. It is the film for which Scorsese finally won Best Director after seven nominations (alongside Best Picture), leading many to dismiss it as a "lifetime achievement award" rather than a win for the film itself. The common argument is that it tells a less powerful story than Goodfellas, Raging Bull, or Taxi Driver. To dismiss The Departed for that reason is a mistake.
Spoilers below
The Academy Award Illusion
The Oscars are a fun show for film fans, but voter campaigns heavily influence the results. An Academy Award nomination or win can bring attention to a movie, but it does not determine its ultimate quality. I liked Killers of the Flower Moon more than Oppenheimer, but I hold nothing against Oppenheimer for taking home the big awards since it was much more widely seen.
If we look back at the three classics that "deserved" to win Scorsese his Oscar, history tells a very specific story about voter psychology:
- Goodfellas lost to Dances With Wolves: I think Goodfellas is a far better film, but it is also a harder watch than a heartwarming western. The gorgeous photography and grand setting of Dances With Wolves likely swayed voters' minds.
- Raging Bull lost to Ordinary People: While Raging Bull is a masterclass in directing, Ordinary Peoplewas a moving, nuanced adaptation of a beloved book that featured an incredible performance by Mary Tyler Moore. Raging Bull, with its bloody boxing matches and disturbing domestic abuse, was a fascinating but brutal portrait of a self-destructive man.
- Taxi Driver lost to Rocky: Released in the same legendary year as Network, Taxi Driver lost Best Picture to Rocky—the ultimate feel-good underdog story. I have watched Rocky many more times than Taxi Driver, so my own bias is clear here, but it proves that the Academy often favors comfort over grit.
Regardless of what did or didn’t win in the past, The Departed is a terrific film. In fact, some of its filmmaking actually surpasses moments in those celebrated classics.
From Hong Kong to Boston: Adapting Infernal Affairs
I do not consciously seek out films by Asian directors as much as other film fans do, but if I hear a movie is excellent, I try to watch it. For a couple of years, I kept hearing about a film called Infernal Affairs. At first, I mistakenly thought people were talking about the 1990 Richard Gere/Andy Garcia thriller (a film where Gere gives a much more memorable performance than he did in Pretty Woman, despite the latter's massive cultural impact).
Once I looked closer, I realized Infernal Affairs was a foreign thriller with an incredible dramatic hook: a cop goes undercover with the mob, while a member of the mob becomes a cop to track the police investigation from the inside. When I finally watched it, I found it incredibly suspenseful. I loved the internal conflict both characters faced as they questioned their own loyalties. The ending completely shocked me, though upon further reflection, main characters rarely come out on top at the end of their journeys in these types of Asian films.
When I read that Martin Scorsese was making an American version set in Boston, I thought it was a brilliant concept for two reasons:
- A Change of Scenery: It was set outside of New York, where so many of his famous mob films take place.
- A Tighter Narrative: It promised a more forward-moving narrative than Gangs of New York or Casino, both of which had great scenes and performances but felt a bit plodding overall.
A Flawless Cast (and a Surprising MVP)
Brad Pitt’s company, Plan B, bought William Monahan’s script and took it to Scorsese. From there, Scorsese assembled perhaps his most impressive cast to date. While it felt a little odd to see him working without Robert De Niro in a mob film (De Niro was discussed for the Frank Costello role, which would have been his first time playing a boss for Scorsese), the ensemble he built was spectacular.
Jack Nicholson as Frank Costello
Nicholson got a mountain of attention going into the film, as it was his first time working with Scorsese and his first time playing an all-out gangster. Nicholson makes very little effort to assume a Boston accent, relying instead on his massive screen personality. However, his unscripted moments keep both the characters and the audience completely on edge:
- He casually carries a severed hand while talking to Billy.
- He unexpectedly mimics a rat’s facial movements.
- He appears with literal blood on his sleeve from an offscreen torture session.
Costello is based on the infamous Boston mobster Whitey Bulger, who cut a deal with the FBI that let him control the city's underworld in exchange for occasional tip-offs in the '70s and '80s. Interestingly, Costello shares a few parallels with Donald Trump: he has underlings who are terrified of his temper, he claims that when things go bad he isn't the one who suffers, and he makes it clear that laying low is not his style.
In his first scene with Billy, Costello wears an eccentric sports jacket and tie. He clearly thinks he looks sharp, but he is the only person in the room who would think that. Compared to his counterpart in Infernal Affairs—Hon Sam (played by Eric Tsang with dyed blonde hair and a colorful, ruthless approach)—Nicholson plays the character much bigger and far more depraved.
Matt Damon: The Film's MVP
Matt Damon has a absolute whale of a time as the toxic Colin Sullivan. He plays a man full of deep-seated insecurity, taught by Costello never to trust anyone. Damon gets to use his fast-talking abilities to perfection here (in sharp contrast to his more contemplative roles as Jason Bourne or Odysseus).
Colin is a guy who is excelling on paper but is always in way over his head. The elevator scene where he tries to talk up Madolyn, followed by their actual date, is genuinely hilarious.
The Brilliant Supporting Ensemble
- Leonardo DiCaprio (Billy Costigan): In his third of six collaborations with Scorsese, DiCaprio excels at playing a deeply tortured, high-strung undercover cop.
- Vera Farmiga (Madolyn): In a breakout role, she plays a dedicated police psychologist. Her character is a composite of the psychologist and the girlfriend from the original film, which is a major narrative improvement. Farmiga beautifully plays the internal conflict; she senses Colin is a "bad egg" but tries to justify staying with him, all while being drawn to Billy. Scorsese includes some nice details such as Billy hangs up a picture of Madolyn that Colin put away. Even though Colin is in the relationship with her Billy is the one who wants to see her for who she is.
- Martin Sheen (Captain Queenan): An unpredictable but warm choice for a police captain, serving as a rare moral center in a very dark world.
- Mark Wahlberg (Staff Sergeant Dignam): Wahlberg is so aggressive and funny here that it made me realize he thrives much more in supporting roles than as a leading man. The moment where he continuously blocks Colin's path and gives him the finger through the office window with unrestrained hatred is gold.
- James Badge Dale (Barrigan): Known to TV fans as Chase from Season 3 of 24 (sporting a lot more hair here), Dale plays a small but crucial role as a fellow academy graduate who turns out to be a secondary rat in the department.
Schoonmaker’s Clockwork Editing
The first act's montage mirrors the opening of Casino. Master editor Thelma Schoonmaker keeps the film moving at a breakneck Goodfellas pace, covering a vast amount of time very quickly. She and Scorsese utilize a distinct visual motif: the camera consistently tracks to the right across different scenes like a literal timeline, showing Billy going down into the underworld just as Colin rises through the police ranks. The Rolling Stones' "Gimme Shelter"—which also appeared in Goodfellas and Casino—soundtrack this descent perfectly.
There is incredible tension in the smaller moments, too. When Mr. French (Ray Winstone) stops Billy in the convenience store, Winstone breathes pure menace without lacking empathy. It’s a smaller role, but fully lived-in. A great visual detail is that French’s hair is slicked back when he is calm, but messy on top whenever he does any fighting.
Given Scorsese’s Italian-American background, it’s interesting that Billy easily beats up two Italian gangsters. The shopkeeper they are trying to extort is more horrified by the damage to his store than he is intimidated by the mobsters, suggesting the Italian mafia has no real power or presence in Boston. Billy only does it to get Costello's attention. The resulting broken wrist allows Billy to mimic the arm cast worn by Yan in Infernal Affairs.
Director's Choice: Better Than the Original?
Scorsese builds on the Hong Kong original in several fascinating ways, particularly in how he dials up the grit:
1. The Theater Scene
In Infernal Affairs, Sam and Lau meet in a standard movie theater. Scorsese changes this to a sleazy adult film porno theater. It suits Costello’s depravity perfectly and makes Colin—who clearly harbors some sexual anxieties—look deeply uncomfortable.
2. The Tail
The sequence where Billy tails Colin after the theater meeting is much more suspenseful than the original, utilizing more locations and rapid editing. While Billy is thrown off the chase by the same method (a cell phone going off), the aftermath is different. In the original, Lau never realizes he was followed. In The Departed, Colin definitely knows. The cut from the traffic light to Colin reviewing the security footage is a flawlessly smooth transition.
3. Queenan's Death
Captain Queenan's death plays out similarly to the original, but with far more chaotic energy because the mobsters kill him so impulsively. Logically, throwing a police captain off a roof makes little sense—it only brings an immense amount of heat down on the gang. Queenan felt safe confronting Costello publicly earlier in the film, but perhaps in the moment, the adrenaline took over.
While the original film plays the aftermath of the fall in stylized slow-motion, Scorsese makes it sudden, jarring, and realistic. I vastly prefer this approach. Damon makes Colin's subsequent outrage over investigating Queenan's death feel real; a big part of Colin genuinely wants to be a good cop, or at least desperately wants his coworkers to see him as one.
Trust, Betrayal, and the Unforgiving Climax
After the fallout, Delahunt (Mark Rolston) reveals on his deathbed that he knew Billy was a cop. This raises a great question: Was Delahunt actually an undercover cop himself, or was that just a story planted by the police? I believe it was a police plant, which makes Delahunt’s choice to protect Billy even more impressive.
Later, Billy returns Colin's phone call despite having every reason to doubt him. While Billy remains cautious, he returns the call because he desperately wants to believe that someone left alive is looking out for him. When they finally meet, Colin is intrigued to hear that Billy has been seeing a shrink, completely oblivious to the fact that it is Madolyn. In the subsequent scene, I always wonder if Madolyn is attempting to tell Billy about her pregnancy before he cuts her off.
At the rooftop showdown, Colin’s bravado completely vanishes. His thin veneer cracks, and he instantly resorts to begging Billy to kill him.
Once again, Scorsese stages the elevator shooting with a matter-of-fact suddenness that shocks the system. I had completely forgotten the twist that the secondary "good cop" gets wiped out immediately, making Billy's death an absolute gut-punch as the elevator doors open. It does make you wonder how Colin managed to explain the staging of the bodies to the forensics team without drawing suspicion, especially since he shot Barrigan at point-blank range.
The Punctuation Mark
Colin only realizes the depth of Madolyn's relationship with Billy at the funeral, when he notices her crying and his gaze connects with Billy's photograph.
When Colin finally returns to his apartment building, he tries to pet a neighbor's dog, but the animal immediately shies away from him. Dogs can always sense a person's true character. Waiting inside is Dignam.
Dignam is a man who normally struggles to pull a trigger, but the moment Colin starts talking, it is all the justification he needs. Dignam is a cop committing an extrajudicial murder, and the film leaves it slightly ambiguous as to how he knew Colin was the rat. Did Madolyn give him the envelope of audio tapes Billy left behind? Or did Dignam, with his unrelenting hatred for Sullivan, just finally follow his gut?
By shifting away from long, drawn-out dialogues and utilizing Schoonmaker's lightning-fast pacing, Scorsese created a film that possesses a grand, epic scale but never stops moving. Now in his 80s, Scorsese continues to turn out incredibly memorable cinema, but The Departed deserves a serious re-evaluation by his fans. It isn't a consolation prize—it's a masterpiece.
****
Comments
Post a Comment