I would guess that many people find Jack Nicholson as satisfying as I do because, like Cary Grant, he always seems to play an only slightly refracted version of the same character. Those leaping eyebrows, like twin Mount Raniers on his forehead. That toothy grin, sardonic and sadistic. Here, though, he gives all that up and becomes a different and highly energetic Jimmy Hoffa. His lips are tucked in, his head held back emphasizing the folds in his neck, and he wears an almost constant scowl. His voice too lacks the expected sleazy glissandos of the Nicholson School of Elocution. His speech is clipped, fast, and full of working-class grammar. ("All these rumors are unsubstantuated!") He does a great job as Jimmy Hoffa. And Danny DeVito is great as always, playing Hoffa's old-time buddy, Bobby Ciaro, a clown with a potential for deadly seriousness. Nicholson and DeVito grew up in the same town -- Neptune, New Jersey -- at about the same time and have known each other for years. DeVito claimed to have dated Nicholson's sister. It's pleasing to see the two of them working together.
In some ways, though, the whole may be less than the sum of its parts. The story is a bit like that of "The Godfather" but without the Mafia mystique. Hoffa starts out good but then -- well, what? Does he go bad? If so, the movie does as good a job of hiding exactly what he did as Hoffa himself did. There is a scene in which he seems to agree to lend money from the Teamster's Pension Fund to "a known Italian." But the scene takes place during a faux deer hunt and is played for laughs. While D'Allesandro (Armand Assante) and Hoffa argue over the terms of the loan, a deer walks up unexpectedly and is ignored by everyone until, finally, DeVito uncorks his automatic and blasts it. When the shots sound everyone hits the dirt.
The scene is amusing but it's distracting too. What WAS that agreement, exactly? Is it illegal for the President of a labor union to lend money to someone else at a profit? Hoffa claims not. And who argues with him but Robert Kennedy, played very unsympathetically as an elitist snot who never worked in his life and is just trying to make a name for himself by bringing Hoffa to court. Hoffa, eventually is convicted and goes to jail. But it is never made clear exactly what he was convicted of. Lending money to an Italian?
Nicholson plays Hoffa pretty straight. He's not a particularly nice guy but he's clever in the way that an alley cat is clever. (Mamet's dialog stays on track.) Yet the director, DeVito, gives him the almost same kind of sentimental treatment that Don Corleone got. I am happy, though, that the movie spared us scenes in which Hoffa's wife sobs and complains that he's so often away from home that she hardly knows him anymore. (Thanks again, Mamet.) There is a fictional but still unnerving assassination scene at the end. Hoffa and DeVito's bodies are dumped atop one another in the back seat of their car. The car is driven up the ramp of a waiting truck and the truck zooms off down the highway towards its unknown destination. Elegiac music swells on the sound track. The image of the back of the truck recedes and dwindles until it disappears down the highway, a setting sun hovering just overhead.
Did Hoffa really deserve this Viking's funeral? I don't know. The movie left me with a lot of unanswered questions, none of them about the performances. A viewer can't help wondering where Hoffa is now. Part of a building somewhere, or an automobile? Or a truck?
In some ways, though, the whole may be less than the sum of its parts. The story is a bit like that of "The Godfather" but without the Mafia mystique. Hoffa starts out good but then -- well, what? Does he go bad? If so, the movie does as good a job of hiding exactly what he did as Hoffa himself did. There is a scene in which he seems to agree to lend money from the Teamster's Pension Fund to "a known Italian." But the scene takes place during a faux deer hunt and is played for laughs. While D'Allesandro (Armand Assante) and Hoffa argue over the terms of the loan, a deer walks up unexpectedly and is ignored by everyone until, finally, DeVito uncorks his automatic and blasts it. When the shots sound everyone hits the dirt.
The scene is amusing but it's distracting too. What WAS that agreement, exactly? Is it illegal for the President of a labor union to lend money to someone else at a profit? Hoffa claims not. And who argues with him but Robert Kennedy, played very unsympathetically as an elitist snot who never worked in his life and is just trying to make a name for himself by bringing Hoffa to court. Hoffa, eventually is convicted and goes to jail. But it is never made clear exactly what he was convicted of. Lending money to an Italian?
Nicholson plays Hoffa pretty straight. He's not a particularly nice guy but he's clever in the way that an alley cat is clever. (Mamet's dialog stays on track.) Yet the director, DeVito, gives him the almost same kind of sentimental treatment that Don Corleone got. I am happy, though, that the movie spared us scenes in which Hoffa's wife sobs and complains that he's so often away from home that she hardly knows him anymore. (Thanks again, Mamet.) There is a fictional but still unnerving assassination scene at the end. Hoffa and DeVito's bodies are dumped atop one another in the back seat of their car. The car is driven up the ramp of a waiting truck and the truck zooms off down the highway towards its unknown destination. Elegiac music swells on the sound track. The image of the back of the truck recedes and dwindles until it disappears down the highway, a setting sun hovering just overhead.
Did Hoffa really deserve this Viking's funeral? I don't know. The movie left me with a lot of unanswered questions, none of them about the performances. A viewer can't help wondering where Hoffa is now. Part of a building somewhere, or an automobile? Or a truck?