Grudge Match (2013)

Who would win in a fight, Rocky or Raging Bull? Twenty-five years ago that would have been a semi-serious whisky-laced conversation among movie fans who like their heroes damaged but triumphant. Oh, times have changed. A joke gabfest has turned actual movie with “Grudge Match,” featuring Sylvester Stallone and Robert De Niro having signed on for what I can only guess are gold bricks. I knew “Match” could be bad, a desperate fan fiction nostalgia trip to make us Gen X’ers recall how great these actors were on screen, and how huge the dramas of Rocky Balboa (dark, with redemption) and Jake LaMotta (far darker, none) were, once. But I wasn’t prepared for how endlessly mediocre every single boring moment would be, right up to the final sentimental boxing match that lasts six years as two 70-year-old actors mock-beat each other, and I became physically angry watching it all turn shit brown. I hated every bullshit wink-nod-wink inside joke: Stallone’s working class stiff visiting a meat freezer, De Niro’s smirking playboy and his comedy bar entertainment. A bad film that dares shits on two classics. Fuck this. F

Last Vegas (2013)

The pitch for “Last Vegas” must have sounded thusly, “It’s the ‘Hangover,’ but with old people!” But PG-13, of course. Impossible to hate, difficult to love, “Last” stars Michael Douglas, Morgan Freeman, Kevin Kline, and Robert De Niro as life-long pals raised in a sunny, racially-harmonic 1950s Brooklyn straight out of Quebec that reunite decades later after the hot-shot playboy millionaire –- that’s Douglas -– finally decides to marry. The bride is 31 years old. Naturally, the pals fret. So Vegas, lots of booze and gambling, lots of fighting with automatic car doors and cell phones, and lots of wide-eyed stares at the shiny world. Then the quartet throw a raucous bachelor party that attracts the MTV crowd with one big ick moment: A college-aged girl tosses her naked body at Kline’s married horn dog, just hours after she tells him he looks exactly like her granddad. He demurs, but for oral sex, and comes out the hero. The incest remark goes unnoticed. The only reason to watch “Last” -- much like “Stand Up Guys” -– is to see great actors slightly tweak characters they played long ago in far better movies. It’s barely enough. B-

The Family (2013)

Robert De Niro and Michelle Pfeiffer play husband and wife in the comedy-drama “The Family” which follows a mob-connected clan unable to keep their New Yawk F.U. attitude in check while living in rural France under witness protection. Dad pummels a shady plumber with a hammer, mom blows up a grocery for its lack of peanut butter, while the children (Dianna Argo and David Belle) pull of blackmail and crush anyone who crosses them. Tommy Lee Jones, haggard and grouchy as always, plays the haggard and grouchy U.S. federal agent who has to keep the family safe from assassins. See, De Niro’s dad snitched his mafia bosses and is now wanted. Director Luc Besson -– he made “The Professional” –- eyes slapstick comedy upfront, and drama and suspense later, asking us to sympathize with these hard-ass ’Mericans when the guns come. It’s an ugly shift: We’re not talking Bernstein Bears here. This family proudly dishes cruelty, yet when tables turn, suddenly violence is wrong? (Never mind the high body count of innocents.) Love the “Goodfellas” bit, though. B-

Ronin (1998)

“Manchurian Candidate” -– absolute favorite film -- director John Frankenheimer helms the heist flick “Ronin,” but this is David Mamet’s ride, from frame one. Every double fake-out betrayal twist built in this ’70s European cinema homage bears Mamet’s stamp of black ink and blood red humor, more so than his “Untouchables.” A behind-the-scenes squabble left Mamet out of the credits. Whatever. The fury-hot tough-guy talk? Razors and laughs that sting like bullets? Mamet. Perfectly set in France with Robert De Niro as leader of a band of crooks hired by an Irish dame (Natascha McElhone) to steal a metal briefcase (contents: unimportant) from guys in suits driving fancy cars, “Ronin” is all about -– as every Mamet work –- the smartest guy holding the gun. The jagged post-robbery fuck-up has cars punching high speeds through Paris, “Bullitt” carnage thrilling. De Niro is on fire, kicking man balls raw. I miss this actor, scary and tense. The pull-a-card plot thrives on coincidences and WTF sights (ice skating???) no thriller can bear, but Frankenheimer pushes onward cold and cruel, smashing cars and trucks, pushing a Raging Bull to one of his last, great roles. An imperfect must watch. B+

The Untouchables (1987) and Gangster Squad (2013)

Double bill: Brian De Palma’s “The Untouchables” with Elliot Ness versus Al Capone, and “Gangster Squad,” with L.A. cops against Mickey Cohen. Both are true cops-and-mobs stories repainted with Hollywood final blowout action scenes. Why allow Frank Nitti his suicide when Ness can toss him off a building? “Squad” plays looser with truth. 

Such is film. Facts hit the floor faster than bodies. In 200 words, my take downs on these mob take-down films.

“Untouchables” –- also based on the rah-rah TV show – follows Eagle Scout/U.S. Treasury agent Ness (Kevin Costner) as he brings in three like-minded heroes (Sean Connery as wise old cop, Andy Garcia as hothead cop, and Charles Martin Smith as nerd cop) to nail Robert De Niro’s Capone. Smart casting and smart-looking film. 

It smells of Chicago and spent bullets. De Palma and screenwriter David Mamet put us in gorgeous locales -– trains station, courthouses, and filthy red alleyways. Dialogue pops like spent lead: Connery barking about knives at a “gun party” is classic. 

I was 13 in ’87 and this became my Instant Favorite Film. The violence, male bravado, scope, and that shoot-out on the stairs. It’s a stellar cops-and-gangsters fantasy for… teenage boys. I’m wiser now, and the red-blood love has waned. This is a sloppy-ass film riddled with dubious continuity errors -– moving corpses, that wondering elevator in the assassination scene, a terrible voice dub throughout, and logic tossed aside in a courtroom finale. Too many scenes make me cringe. 

Was De Palma so in love with his own (admittedly great) style, he forgot the importance of details? Hell if I know. Costner is too fantastic to care. B+

“Squad” whiffs fake as “Untouchables” feels immersed in Chicago lore. You can smell the wet paint. I read Ellroy. Call me biased. Josh Brolin is WWII Army Special Forces vet John O’Mara, now a cop assigned to stop New York-bred Cohen (Sean Penn) from becoming the West Coast Capone.

O’Mara is very Ness to the point I believe writer Will Beall watched “Untouchables” on repeat. Lines are lifted whole. O’Mara also has his three heroes: Robert Patrick as wise old cop, Ryan Gosling as hothead cop, and Giovanni Ribisi as nerd cop. Toss in retro-progression with Anthony Mackie as a black patrolman and Michael Pena as a Hispanic flatfoot named Navidad. (Cringe.) 

Plot: O’Mara’s guys shoot the shit out of Cohen’s guys, who do the same back. Penn is comically spittle-tossing evil, his performance falls into hysterics. I laughed my ass off when a ridiculously dickensesque shoeshiner gets whacked. I gather director Ruben Fleischer (“Zombieland”) wasn’t going for giggles among the blood and rape. 

As Ness says, “You aren’t from Chicago.” Do not pretend. C

Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

Is there a better actress right now of the under-30 set than Jennifer Lawrence? She co-leads “Silver Linings Playbook,” a damn good comedy/drama about two troubled adults making a connection over -– of all things -– ballroom dancing. David Russell directs and wrote the screenplay (based on a book), and similar to his hit “Fighter,” rests the story on wondrous and maddening families. The lead is Bradley Cooper, giving a jaw-dropper performance unlike anything before, as Pat, a man near-disabled by bipolar disorder. Back home with his over-protective mom (Jacki Weaver) and over-bearing/OCC father (Robert De Niro), Pat crosses paths, via friends, with Tiffany (Lawrence), a young widow with her own set of issues, mainly sexual. Their relationship begins toxic, but there’s a romantic spark, they each have leapt over the cliff of sanity. If the finale is awkwardly, overly upbeat, refer back to the title: In a “Lord of the Flies” reality, we crave stories with silver linings. De Niro, after a long bout of sell-out performances, is marvelous. Lawrence (“Hunger Games” and “Winter’s Bone”) is the reason to see “Silver.” She’s 21, playing a slightly older unstable woman, flawlessly upstaging her co-stars. A-

Red Lights (2012)

There’s gotta be a porn film with this title, “Red Lights.” But this isn’t that kind of film. We’re talking psychics here, supernatural, reality, and con jobs. Sigourney Weaver plays a brilliant but (naturally) under-funded university researcher of the paranormal who has spent her career unmasking psychics as frauds. Her assistant researcher and driver is a brilliant geek named Tom (Cillian Murphy, taking a break from “Batman” movies). The duo gets antsy when a blind psychic (Robert De Niro) turns up after a 30-year absence, ready to go public again. When Weaver’s character suddenly dies, Tom goes off the deep end of obsession to crush De Niro’s charmer. Writer/director Rodrigo Cortes (“Buried”) spins a creepy and interesting tale for a while, but as the thriller lurches on, it becomes a comedy soup. Tom getting into a shoving match with another professor (Toby Jones) had me giggling hard. I fell for red herrings I created entirely in my own mind. Score for Cortes. The final scenes, though, are so bug-fuck crazy stupid (I won’t spoil) that I tuned out, again laughing myself silly. I wonder if Cortes saw that coming? C+

Freelancers (2012)

Former-drug-dealer-turned-rapper-turned-film-actor 50 Cent aka Curtis Jackson III puts the last of those multi-hyphenates to regrettable use in the awful “Freelancers,” a cops-gone-bad drama that thudded into cinemas and rolled over for dead on DVD within one month. Upfront mystery: How did Robert De Niro and Forrest Whitaker get wrangled into playing depraved NYPD detectives who trade in drugs, murders, and whores on an hourly basis? Jackson plays Malo, ex-crook turned policeman thrown into a corruption ring by his mentor/father figure (De Niro), the former partner of Malo’s real pop, another officer killed years ago. Not a single plot thread or revelation makes remote sense as Malo plays a ridiculous game between police and mafia while balancing several women on the side. Entire sections of this story seem cleaved out to fit a 90-minute running time as we dead end at a finale that has Malo crowing on top of a shit pile not only wholly implausible, but an insulting F.U. lobbed at all law enforcement. I can’t speak of his music, but as an actor here, Jackson has a blank stare reserved for album covers, punctuated by line readings so dull, he seems barely coherent. D-

GoodFellas (1990) and Heat (1995)

Watching Robert De Niro burn his unparalleled talents in shit such as “Little Fockers” or “Righteous Kill,” it’s unbelievable that just 20 years ago he had two of the best films in his storied career and of the decade under his belt. “GoodFellas” – directed by Martin Scorsese – and “Heat” – directed by Michael Mann – are crime genre classics, eternally re-watchable and endlessly fascinating. The man is a monster in both films, of cinematic talent, and of men’s character. 

“GoodFellas” opens with this line, spoken by Ray Liotta as Henry Hill, a Bronx-born hood who was mobbed up by age 14: “Ever since I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster.” Wow. This is Hill’s story, from rise to vast rule to ketchup and egg noodles in the Midwest. De Niro is his mid-level mob boss. Joe Pesci costars in an infamously profane and violent performance so shocking, it’s bewildering to know the man he plays was far more dangerous. The film is flawless, so amazing good and detailed (the food alone!), it’s a thrill to behold for a 15^th viewing. My words do not do it justice. 

In “Heat,” De Niro is a master criminal of a high-end gang (Val Kilmer and Tom Sizemore co-headline his crew) being chased by an obsessive detective (Al Pacino, also scraping bottom in “Righteous” and “88 Minutes”) in Los Angeles. We also follow the cop’s home life as Mann’s three-hour epic film spreads far and wide, almost too wide – an icky serial killer plot thread goes nowhere. The actions scenes are you-are-there-real and spectacular, including a long finale outside the Los Angeles airport that boomed in a theater.

De Niro is the star of both, the ballast holding each film together, keeping the madness, violence, crazy details, and other actors (Pacino goes “PACINO” a few times) cemented and whole, but let it be known these worlds are the creation of, respectively, Scorsese and Mann, both in unmatched top form. Know this: “GoodFellas” was based on a true story, but “Heat” inspired a criminal duo to pull off a daring bank robbery that eerily mimicked the mid-section scene here.

GoodFellas: A+ Heat: A

The Killer Elite (2011)

In “The Killer Elite,” Jason Statham is another badass with a temper, a gun, and a mission. Upfront: This is one of those “based on a true story” stories that screams bullshit! as the action spreads around the globe, double-crosses pile up, and Statham as assassin-for-hire Danny Bryce endures punishment so grim and commits stunts so brazen, they would kill all Three Stooges and Ethan Hunt. Story: A gravely ill sheikh strong arms Danny into offing the three Brit SAS agents who killed his brave sons, leaving pops with a sad-sack brat so nancy, he makes Fredo Corleone glower like, well, Jason Statham. If Danny says no, Poppa Sheik kills Robert De Niro, or rather a spry old spy played by Robert De Niro. The acting is aces, and the action all wrought iron hard curves and twists, but FML, newcomer writer Matt Sherring and director Gary McKendry go all tit-tit, blanching at violence, and mere seconds later dive into their next set-piece where Stathom rips apart packs of men. Brain drivel mediocre. Clive Owen -– stealing the film -- co-stars as an ugly spook who we only think is a villain. Alas, all bullshit. B-

Mad Dog and Glory (1993)

In “Mad Dog and Glory,” Robert De Niro plays a detective so meek and insecure his co-workers call him “Mad Dog” out of ironic jaunting. One night investigating a murder, Sad Puppy Wayne stumbles into a store robbery. Almost by accident he saves the life of a low-level gangster named Frank (Bill Murray). Not a little amused, Frank – who moonlights as a standup comic who might send thugs to kill you for not laughing -- thanks Wayne by loaning him a “present,” Gloria (a young Uma Thurman). Here’s where “Dog” shits. I get that this comedy gets its spark from the anti-type-casting, De Niro as a doormat, and Murray as the heavy, but did Thurman have to play a cup of sugar in high heels? Much ink was spilled about reshoots and script changes. Apparently Gloria was interesting at one point. Not here. She’s the fantasy girl of all loser-loners – she’ll fuck you blue just for being smart enough to wipe your shoes after coming home. Cruelly sexist, I hated this film with righteous, liberal, progressive anger. It is Murray who saves it from a lesser grade. C-

Little Fockers (2010)

I cannot bear to repeat the title. Ben Stiller and Robert De Niro are back in a third “Meet the Parents,” a sequel to a sequel no one asked for, and from the looks on the casts' bored faces, no one wanted to star in. Stiller again is the idiot man-child under the thumb of daddy-in-law De Niro. Fifteen minutes in, we witness De Niro's soul die when he chokes on the pun “Godfocker,” and -- Ah, you know? I cannot do this. Fock this movie, its cast and the suggestion of a fourth focking flick. F

Meet the Parents (2000)

I have a soft spot for “Meet the Parents.” Why? The Robert De Niro character, Jack Burns, is a strange combination of many aspects of my father-in-law and father. (Many, not all.) When the film came out, I had just proposed to my now wife. Literally, a couple weeks before. My proposal had its own comic elements, most of my doing, but it didn’t play out like this. Burns is an old-fashioned, uptight former CIA spy with secrets who probably never didn’t vote Republican and guards his grown daughters with religious zealotry. Ben Stiller is the good-hearted male nurse who can't keep his trivia mouth shut, probably always votes Democrat and can’t help buy muck up everything he touches. Much like me. All the jokes center on the suitor’s name, Gaylord Focker, so the jokes come easy and play thisclose to juvenile-level crudeness. “Parents” also is a film of many “lasts” for me. It’s the last time I saw a decent film with De Niro’s name attached to it. It’s the last film I’ve seen headlined by Stiller where I didn’t want to throw something at the screen, screaming bloody murder. Good film. B+

Righteous Kill (2008) and King of Comedy (1982)

"Righteous Kill" was supposed to give true film fans the Al Pacino/ Robert De Niro reunion they've been itching for since the Michael Mann-directed 1995 classic "Heat." Sadly this thriller is a crap dud from director Jon Avnet (who made crap dud "88 Minutes," also with Pacino) and has all the heat of a bad "Scooby Doo" episode mixed with old tired cliches about old tired cops that stank when "Hill Street Blues" was on the air.

The plot: Veteran NYC cops Turk (De Niro) and Rooster (Pacino) are on the hunt for a serial killer who's offing the city's most notorious scumbags. (Like cops would care.) Blame falls on seething fireball Turk, but ... did he do it? The answer is so brain dead simple, I kept hoping I was wrong. I wasn't.

De Niro looks like he has a kidney stone. Pacino at least keeps his "hoo-ha" acting on low broil. For awhile. Carla Gugino ("Karen Cisco") plays a forensics cop with a rape fetish who's bonking Turk. Her character, transplanted from a bad Sharon Stone film, is the most interesting mug on screen, even if she is a sick male fantasy.

A few bits of sharp dialogue in the script written by Russell Gewirtz help, but not much. The climax is as obvious, noisy and silly as the ending of "Heat" was stylish, understated and epic. The days when Pacino and De Niro were exciting are gone. They just need to quit. D-

But, De Niro is a god -- a delusional, pathetic, mamma's boy god -- in the brilliant "The King of Comedy," a 1982 pitch-black dark comedy jewel from director Martin Scorsese. De Niro literally morphs his body and larger-than-life essence to play the dweebish Rupert Pupkin, a wannabe comedian who plays to an audience of cardboard cut outs and wall art in the basement of his mother's house. Pure sick joy this film is.

Pupkin longs to be on a Johnny Carson-like show hosted by Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis), the God to Rupert's Job. Kicking out a rabid "fan" from Jerry's limo, Rupert inserts himself into the life of his idol and seeks advice on how to win fame and glory. The kicker: Jerry is a lonely prick who cares for no one but himself, and when he blows off Rupert, our anti-hero is too dense to notice.

Instead, Rupert marches on, in love with Jerry and fame. The obsession turns nasty when Pupkin recruits his friend, the rabid fan (Sandra Bernhardt), from the limo, to help kidnap Jerry. The film is madly funny and nails the psyche of a deranged man who believes the world owes him and needs him.

Whole scenes, quite possibly the entire finale, take place inside Rupert's twisted sewer pipe mind, where he is loved and adored. De Niro gives a fully fleshed out performance, one that he would later piss away in the god-awful "The Fan." Pupkin is certainly all that I have described, but he's not to be hated. He is our deranged hero.

It's Lewis' acid blood Langford who's the true villain here. Lewis is a great actor. And what a great film to get us to root for a perv sicko. This is a sick mind screw of a film, worthy of a dozen viewings. A