While the Academy’s Best Actor statue is going to become a victim in a brutal game of Tug-of-War among a few guys named Hanks, De Niro, Pacino, Bale, Damon, and oh yeah, Phoenix, it seems the Best Director is on lock for Mr. Martin Scorsese.

We have already experienced the arduous task of ranking his films, but to put this latest undertaking of his on top of that hallowed ground seems almost elementary if you read the latest hoopla over his November release on Netflix The Irishman. 

Last weekend, at the time of this posting, The Irishman premiered at — where else — the New York Film Festival and the response has been nothing short of extraordinary (or ordinary considering the source).

If you search Twitter, you will see raving reviews over the acting, the cinematography, the characterization, the storytelling, and all the CGI technology to “de-age” De Niro, Pesci, and Pacino.

Everyone is clamoring about this movie. Everyone is standing up and applauding for Scorsese’s triumph. And it seems everyone should because of one simple thing.

The “going back to the same character well” argument is old. The “movies are too damn long” argument is old too. When Scorsese brings his A-game, everyone takes notice. Again, only one reason why.

Despite what you think about Netflix. Regardless of how you may romanticize the making of film. And who cares your particular slant over big screen versus small screen, we are seeing right now what movies are meant to be — stellar storytelling. 

Time to Go Back to the Basics

I once read a fantastic blog post about storytelling that reached me as a writer and a movie fan. One quote in particular:

The value storytelling holds as a source of inspiration and as a teaching tool makes it the most important tradition mankind possesses.

Here. Here. 

Since the annals of time, storytelling is what has connected the generations. “Papa, how do you kill dinosaurs? Well, lemme tell you a story,” From religion to family to war to peace, the one constant throughout every century is the sharing of stories so we don’t lose track of who we are and the unfathomable journey it took to get there.

When we come across a good movie, it’s because of the VFX, CGI, and a bunch of other acronyms you learn in film school. When we encounter a great film, it’s because of the basics: the visual appeal, the emotive study, the way a story envelops you as you park in a seat clutching a Coke and barely surmising enough strength for the smile.

That’s what a story does. That is what why we applaud and come back for more. (Most of the time…still trying to figure out the “why” behind Avatar.)

Among the many reviews of The Irishman that celebrate the trek back to storytelling was Chris Evanglista’s:

#TheIrishman is a crime epic, a buddy pic, and a melancholy reflection on mortality. De Niro, Pacino, and especially Pesci, are all phenomenal. This is one of Scorsese’s best works. Here’s my review https://t.co/ra8Ax2NNd4

— Chris EvangelistAHHH!!! (@cevangelista413) September 28, 2019

When you have crime and pals, you have a really good movie most of the time. Add the raw emotion and “melancholy,” and you get to great and potentially Oscar-winning. That is not because of seamless de-aging technology. (Just ask Gemini Man if that helps that movie at the box office.)

This is because of the story and the master storyteller behind it. Again, simple. 

And if you don’t believe me, have you seen what Guillermo del Toro did on Twitter? An illustrious 13-tweet rant extolling the absolute greatness and moviemaking splendor of this film.  Really! 

1/13: 13 Tweets about Scorsese’s The Irishman: First- the film connects with the epitaph-like nature of Barry Lyndon. It is about lives that came and went, with all their turmoil, all their drama and violence and noise and loss… and how they invariably fade, like we all do…

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

2/13 “It was in the reign of George III that the aforesaid personages lived and quarrelled; good or bad, handsome or ugly, rich or poor, they are all equal now.” We will all be betrayed and revealed by time, humbled by our bodies, stripped off our pride.

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

3/13 The film is a mausoleum of myths: a Funereal monument that stands to crush the bones beneath it. Granite is meant to last but we still turn to dust inside it.

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

4/13 It’s the anti”My Way” (played in every gangster wedding in the world). Regrets they had more than few. The road cannot be undone and we all face the balance at the end. Even the voice over recourse has DeNiro trailing off into mumbled nonsense-

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

5/13 I remember, in a documentary about Rick Rubin- he explained how Johnny Cash singing “Hurt” (having lived and lost and gone to hell and back) gave it a dimension it could not have in the voice of a -then- young Trent Reznor (even if he composed it). This film is like that.

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

6/13 Scorsese started hand-in-hand with Schrader, as young men, looking for Bresson. This movie transmogrified all the gangster myths into regret. You live this movie. It never goes for the sexy of violence. Never for the spectacle. And yet it is spectacularly cinematic.

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

7/13 Film has the inexorabie feeling of a crucifixion- from the point of view of Judas. Every Station of the cross permeated by humor and a sense of banality- futility- characters are introduced with their pop-up epitaphs superimposed on screen: “This is how they die”

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

8/13 I never thought I would see a film in which I’d root hard for Jimmy Hoffa- but I did- perhaps because, in the end, he, much like the Kennedys, represented also the end of a majestic post-war stature in America.

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

9/13 Pesci supremely minimalistic. Masterful. He is like a black hole- an attractor of planets- dark matter. DeNiro has always fascinated me when he plays characters that are punching above their true weight – or intelligence- That’s why I love him in so much Jackie Brown-

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

10/13 An interesting transfer between these characters: Pesci- who has played the Machiavellian monster, regains a senile innocence, a benign oblivion and De Niro’s character – who hass operated in a moral blank- gains enough awareness – to feel bitter loneliness.

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

11/13 I believe that much is gained if we cross-reference our transgressions with how we will feel in the last three minutes of our life- when it all becomes clear: or betrayals, our saving graces and our ultimate insignificance. This film gave me that feeling.

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

12/13 This film needs time- however- it has to be processed like a real mourning. It will come up in stages… I believe most of its power will sink in, in time, and provoke a true realization. A masterpiece. The perfect corollary Goodfellas and Casino.

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

13/13 See it. In a theatre. This movie languished in development in studio vaults for so long… having it here, now, is a miracle. And, btw- fastest 3 hours in a cinema. Do not miss it.

— Guillermo del Toro (@RealGDT) September 30, 2019

Behold: That is the power of true storytelling.

Only something that moves us to our core could force us to write without thinking and speak without listening. You just have to get it out of your system — a mental and emotional symbiotic regurgitation of experience. And that is the result. Only stories can do that to a cinephile. Only stories ever could.

The Irishman opens in select theaters from November 1 and on Netflix November 27. That’s three weeks to do what you should do — enjoy the story as it was meant to be appreciated and then see what you do on Twitter.