Scorsese's "dream" project is surprisingly insubstantial

Rating: 5/10 (17 June 2011)

Purportedly director Martin Scorsese spent decades shepherding this dream project to the silver screen. When the production finally started, his ardent fans declared that the film would finally win him a long elusive Oscar and take its place as one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces of all time. Sadly, reality has a habit of intervening.
Set in the latter 1800s, the film depicts the corruption, violence and conflicts between rival street gangs in the Five Points area of New York City. The film opens with a particular conflict between the Nativists, led by Daniel Day-Lewis' Bill the Butcher, and the Dead Rabbits, led in a glorified cameo by Liam Neeson's Priest Vallon. Vallon's murder by the Butcher is witnessed by his young son Amsterdam, who returns years later and unrecognizable in the guise of Leonardo DiCaprio, who is hellbent to have his revenge. This typical tale of revenge is set against the backdrop of political corruption culminating in the Draft Riots of 1863.
Arguably the most surprising thing about the production is that, given its nearly 30-year gestation period, the screenplay still comes off as unfinished and aimless. The drama unfolding in the background often seems far more fascinating than what Scorsese decides to focus on, with the main revenge drama especially predictable and clichéd, populated by characters that fail to engage either our sympathy or (with only one exception) grab our attention.
It is a given that DiCaprio will infiltrate Day-Lewis' gang with the old nutshell of saving him from an assassination. We know this will be followed up by Day-Lewis developing a fondness for him that DiCaprio finds himself reluctantly reciprocating, which calls his whole plan into question. We also know that DiCaprio will face constant jeopardy of exposure and that there will be one Judas in the mix. Scorsese also throws in a token love interest in the form of dirtied-up, yet still comely pickpocket Cameron Diaz, who seems to have wandered in off the set of Oliver Twist.
The film ever so briefly touches on the injustice of immigrants arriving to America only to be conscripted immediately into the Union Army upon disembarking the ships – a plot thread far more interesting than anything else Scorsese spends time on. There is some attempt to depict the political corruption of the time with a glad-handing Jim Broadbent as the infamous Boss Tweed, a subplot that Scorsese handles clumsily at best.
A ridiculous amount of time is spent on an election wherein DiCaprio convinces Brendan Gleeson, a man who showed him kindness on the death of his father, to campaign for office in the hopes of quelling the gang violence. The film ostensibly argues that Gleeson is a stellar pick because he is a relatively honest man from the streets, who knows the parties in question and has the courage to stand up for the people. Unfortunately, this time-consuming subplot culminates in a laughable sequence wherein after having won the election Gleeson goes to privately talk reason to Day-Lewis, who casually assassinates the man. Apparently this is supposed to be a shocking scene, but Gleeson heretofore was such a minor character and it seems inconceivable that someone as knowledgeable of the parties and their acts as the screenplay insists Gleeson is would go alone and unarmed into Day-Lewis' lair to lecture him and not see this outcome. When one reflects on how much time is lavished on this dead end subplot, it seems inconceivably wrong-headed. And if anyone can make heads or tails out of what is going on with the Draft Riots at the end, you are doing well.
Additionally, the film contains a jaw-dropping instance of incongruity. At one point, Day-Lewis tortures DiCaprio and then brands his face with a large poker. This incident nearly kills the character, but yet a few scenes later, DiCaprio's face appears largely unmarred. Ahh, the joys of being a leading man.
Broadbent, Gleeson, Neeson and Henry Thomas are all wasted. While both DiCaprio and Diaz are fine, neither are able to break out of their clichéd roles. We are never given any reason why Diaz's character takes an immediate shine to DiCaprio other than that he is the lead and she is the romantic interest. The only one to make a strong impression is Day-Lewis, and I don't mean that in a good way. Duded-up in 1860s fashions, swaggering about like a peacock, and twirling his hysterically villainous mustache, Day-Lewis has the tendency to remind one of an over-the-top Oilcan Harry/Snidely Whiplash clone. This performance would be perfect for The Perils of Penelope Pitstop, but not a deadly earnest Martin Scorsese drama.
The final shots depicting the growth of NYC seem to suggest that we have just witnessed events of such profound impact that they influenced the very future of NYC. Yet we walk away from this film feeling none of that. Instead, it often seems that while Day-Lewis and company are holding court center stage, the most interesting develops are taking place on stage left.