'The Irishman' review: Martin Scorsese's exciting, nostalgic wiseguy reunion

The boys are back, substantially older but no less prone to mayhem, in Martin Scorsese's wiseguy epic "The Irishman." It's the director's first collaboration with Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci since "Casino" almost 25 years ago, and his first ever with an actor who has bafflingly escaped his orbit, Al Pacino. Throw in a brief Harvey Keitel, a star of Scorsese's breakout film "Mean Streets" from 1973, and you've got a mob-movie supergroup the likes of which we may never see again.

There's an appealing mix of nostalgia and excitement in this cinematic reunion tour, which sees De Niro effortlessly playing the title role of Frank Sheeran, a real-life Irish-American who joined the East Coast mob after World War II. Pesci is the world-weary crime boss Russell Bufalino, while Pacino huffs and puffs marvelously as none other than Jimmy Hoffa, the charismatic Teamsters leader who mysteriously vanished in 1975. Written by Steven Zaillian from Charles Brandt's book "I Heard You Paint Houses," which details Sheeran's involvement in Hoffa's disappearance, "The Irishman" spans more than 50 years and uses digital technology to turn back the clock on its septuagenarian cast. (The nearly imperceptible de-aging effects come from Industrial Light & Magic.)

If it all sounds like familiar Scorsese territory, that's intentional. "The Irishman" feels like the director's attempt to fill in and flesh out the themes of loyalty and betrayal that have informed his most famous films, notably his 1990 classic "Goodfellas." What sets "The Irishman" apart is the ruminative mood that seeps into Scorsese's usual point-blank violence. As Sheeran ages and the ghosts he's created begin to haunt him, "The Irishman" begins to feel something like Clint Eastwood's "The Unforgiven" — a look back at a life, an era and a cinematic genre all at once. Unexpectedly, there's also more humor than usual here, as Scorsese gently pokes fun at the very mob movie cliches — nicknames, untimely deaths, tacky weddings — that he helped create. 

You could make a long list of probable Oscar nods here, including production design (many of the mid-century period scenes were filmed on Long Island) and editing (by Scorsese's longtime collaborator Thelma Schoonmaker). The standouts are clearly De Niro, as a man clinging to a code of silence, and Pesci, playing what feels like an older version of Tommy DeVito, the violent jack-in-the-box role that earned him an Oscar in "Goodfellas." Their performances are riveting, full of mystery, monstrosity and human frailty.

Despite its three-and-a-half-hour running time, "The Irishman" never drags — not even for a second. Like the colorful, chaotic lives it chronicles, it feels like it's over in the blink of an eye.