Black Mass | Movie Review

I checked in the backyard, the closet, under the couch, and even peaked in the microwave – Nope, no Johnny Depp there. With all of the people telling me Johnny Depp is lost, his career is over and his talent is now in witness protection, I’ve been exhaustively searching high-and-low for any signs of Captain Finger Knives. Then I stumble into “Black Mass“, the latest crime-thriller from Scott Cooper (Out of the Furnace), chronicling the rise of nefarious gangster James ‘Whitey’ Bulger, and BAM! There he is. Apparently, this whole time, Depp was hanging out in the Wrangler jeans aisle of your local department store just waiting for another opportunity to emerge.

What a ridiculously idiotic narrative the press (and many fans) have painted for Johnny Depp these last few years. ‘Our beloved Depp is gone’, ‘He’s lost his edge’, ‘Depp plays it safe’, ‘Depp sold-out’, blah blah blah. We fans are a fickle bunch of bitches. All the years Depp eschewed big Hollywood roles, all that credibility he amassed on his own terms, and we just cast it aside over a couple questionable choices and a few misfires at the box office?

Come on, people! Depp never went anywhere, he was always here. Do you really consider “The Lone Ranger” (a film I genuinely enjoyed), “Tusk” or “Mortdecai” safe bets? “Transcendence” might not have worked out, but with the pedigree involved in all facets, do you really blame Johnny for giving it a shot? The reason this review might seem like a defense against Depp-lash is because it absolutely is. Those that cry ‘He’s done!’ are so far out in left field they’ll be smacking wall any second. This is a guy who achieved enormous success completely on his own terms, by taking absurdly unconventional roles over and over again – so for me, he has earned the right to make some errors along the way. Thankfully, for those of you ‘concerned’ with his career, “Black Mass” is NOT one of those missteps.

We have all seen Depp play just about every conceivable character, with the glaring exception of a villain consumed with darkness. South Boston’s own Whitey Bulger, one of the most notorious gangsters in American history, finally corrects that omission. After his childhood friend turned F.B.I. Agent, John Connolly (Joel Edgerton in a brilliantly calculated and subdued performance combining naive ignorance with bravado), convinces both Bulger and the Bureau to trade inside information for clemency, Whitey realizes he has finally struck criminal gold. He uses this unique position to elevate his own nickel-and-dime endeavors to full-blown empire status. As Whitey skillfully manipulates Connolly’s growing seduction through the perks of a seedy underworld, “Black Mass” examines exactly how deep Bulger’s sadistic tendencies dove down the proverbial rabbit hole.

Depp. Is. Phenomenal. There you have it. For anyone curious or just wondering if this role would be a whiff, you can pump the brakes. His physical transformation is daunting (dentures, white hair, contacts), and sure, he does these sorts of make-up roles in just about every movie he does. Yet here, as James ‘Whitey’ Bulger, Depp BECOMES a killer. Not just in his prosthetics, but in every fiber of his soul. He slinks in-and-out of every scene with the efficiency of a python and the viciousness of Jaws. Where many actors would play the lethality of Whitey loud and abrasive (say HOO-AH, Al Pacino), Depp showcases a man of quiet restraint and pathos. This is not some angry reactive imbecile, this is a cold and calculated sociopath.

At one point in the film, sensing another character might be faking ill due to their wavering loyalty to silence, Whitey checks on their well-being – all the while, point-blank threatening their very life with each caress of his slimy fingertips in the process. It’s a quiet moment of sheer terror, for both our character and for the audience as well. He and director Cooper also allow us to see the softer side of this shady SOB through his relationship with his son, brother, and mother. This is a multilayered character, not a caricature, and one that Depp firmly drops his seal on by the closing credits.

Outside of an entire cast full of scene-stealing actors, each with their own jaw-dropping moments (Benedict Cumberbatch, Dakota Johnson, and yet one more degree of Kevin Bacon all pop in for their moments), “Black Mass” is still missing…something. Yes, the actual members of Whitey’s Winter Hill Gang are given less substantial roles, but that’s not it either. I know what you’re thinking – ‘Aaron, what the hell are you rambling about, this sounds like an instant classic!’ – it sure does, but it just isn’t. I desperately wanted it to be, and at times it felt like it was leaning that way, yet it continuously comes up just shy of that lofty aspiration.

Keeping in mind that this is a true-life story, therefore certain events must be followed chronologically, the film simply doesn’t feel fresh or unique enough to elevate it to that upper pantheon of crime flicks. “The Godfather”, “Goodfellas”, “Heat”. This seems to be the same story of EVERY mobster movie – though instead of cops on the take, we have the complete vested interest of the F.B.I. Depp, Edgerton and the rest of the cast are brilliant, and Cooper keeps the film’s pacing steady and bump-free, there just aren’t enough memorable scenes or a powerful enough ending to ram this through the gates of ‘classic’.

Don’t misread that, this is a damn good film and a definite Oscar contender. Director Scott Cooper has made up for the misfire that was “Out of the Furnace”, and places himself back on the list of directors to watch. With a lesser lead, everyone would be raving about Edgerton, but here Whitey is the star Johnny Depp was born to play. This is his Hannibal Lector, the Devil in this “Black Mass“. Naysayers need to pay close attention to Depp’s thunderous performance. This is not an actor resting on his laurels cashing checks and taking your critical swipes lightly. Whitey Bulger is Depp’s inner lion, roaring at any who dare challenge him, while cementing his position as blatantly and brashly as he can: He’s not going anywhere.

Savvy?

Aaron Peterson
The Hollywood Outsider