Robert DeNiro is a Monsignor of the Catholic Church. Robert Duvall is his brother, a cop assigned to a murder based on the Elizabeth Short murder.
It's a movie that examines their relationship in the corruption of 1940s Los Angeles. DeNiro gives a particularly layered performer, exuding an air of pellucid insincerity, punctuated with moments when the character's underlying decency breaks through. Most of the time, he seems uncaring, more interested in the routines and his own advancement in the Church's hierarchy than in the purported purpose of his priesthood. He works and moves in the money-raising aspect of his job, giving after-dinner speeches and referring to his golf game to raise a chuckle; yet when called upon to lead children in prayer, he rattles through the words, reducing them to mush.
It seems odd to praise DeNiro, without considering Duvall. While DeNiro seems rooted in his ambitions, focused on his future, Duvall lives in the moment, in doing his work, or the conversation he is holding, whether it be with DeNiro or their senile mother in the hospital. Duvall gives a performance which stands in contrast to DeNiro, and illuminates it.
Cinematographer Owen Roizman shoots the long shots in the mild amber tint that has become standard lighting for movies looking back half a century or more. Here, it produces a worn, slightly dirty atmosphere that complements the corruption of the story.
In the end, nothing is solved, but family remains. Despite the major themes, it remains a minor picture, trying to be important, but relying on its performances to carry it... which they do, to a remarkable extent.
It's a movie that examines their relationship in the corruption of 1940s Los Angeles. DeNiro gives a particularly layered performer, exuding an air of pellucid insincerity, punctuated with moments when the character's underlying decency breaks through. Most of the time, he seems uncaring, more interested in the routines and his own advancement in the Church's hierarchy than in the purported purpose of his priesthood. He works and moves in the money-raising aspect of his job, giving after-dinner speeches and referring to his golf game to raise a chuckle; yet when called upon to lead children in prayer, he rattles through the words, reducing them to mush.
It seems odd to praise DeNiro, without considering Duvall. While DeNiro seems rooted in his ambitions, focused on his future, Duvall lives in the moment, in doing his work, or the conversation he is holding, whether it be with DeNiro or their senile mother in the hospital. Duvall gives a performance which stands in contrast to DeNiro, and illuminates it.
Cinematographer Owen Roizman shoots the long shots in the mild amber tint that has become standard lighting for movies looking back half a century or more. Here, it produces a worn, slightly dirty atmosphere that complements the corruption of the story.
In the end, nothing is solved, but family remains. Despite the major themes, it remains a minor picture, trying to be important, but relying on its performances to carry it... which they do, to a remarkable extent.