When director Martin Scorsese controversially remarked that Marvel franchise films are not ‘art forms’, he lamented how the unifying vision of the artist and the desire to take cinematic risks was at stake from the onslaught of films manufactured for immediate consumption. The Irishman thrives because of Scorsese’s uncompromising vision for the mob genre, where he insists on challenging the viewers’ depth of empathy with a deeply flawed protagonist who wields violence to survive in a world corrupted by avarice and power. The ambitious epic that chronicles the rise and fall of mafia hitman Frank Sheeran and his ties with the Bufalino family and union leader Jimmy Hoffa is, however, too sprawling for a deeper rumination on how much agency we have over crimes and the construct of sin. In less capable hands, the strands would have fallen apart, but Scorsese’s fearless dedication to his craft runs throughout the film. His astute casting reunites long-time collaborators like the understated Joe Pesci, the austere Robert De Niro and new addition Al Pacino, who burns the screen with maniacal energy. It is classic Scorsese as he whips out all his sleight of hand manoeurvres that define his artistry in Goodfellas and Casino - voice-over narration to get into the character’s head, diegetic sounds and montages to weave in political events like the Bay of Pigs invasion and the assassination of JFK to establish a keen sense of the time period, and quick sweeps to enhance the adrenaline in violent scenes. Whether it is the use of de-aging technology or recreating Old World charm, the attention to detail is scrupulous. Although three and a half hours may seem over-indulgent, every single shot is sharply calibrated - from the first scenes of “painting houses” to the elegiac ending scene of the frail wheelchair-bound Sheeran waiting stoically for his time to come. Scorsese has hinted that this is his swan song. If it’s true, It is a huge loss - especially with the greatness we have seen from this true visionary.