- In his book Public Enemies, Public Heroes, Jonathan Muney argues that the introduction of sound into film was one of the most important milestones in the evolution of the gangster picture. Suddenly, audiences heard mobsters portrayed by the likes of Edward G. Robinson, James Cagney, and Paul Muni speaking in "street vernacular" that identified them with very particular ethnic and economic groups. This was an excellent point that I hadn't appreciated before, although admittedly I haven't seen that many silent gangster films for comparison. So what does all of this have to do with Donnie Brasco? The answer is simple: No modern gangster film has cared more about its dialogue than this one.
- From the moment they first meet, Mafia small-fish "Lefty" Ruggiero (Al Pacino) and crooked jeweler Donnie Brasco speak the same language. Their professional relationship is established when Donnie informs Lefty that his diamond, a purported "beautiful thing", is in fact a "fugazi." What precisely do these terms mean? Contextual clues suggest that they mean trouble for the poor schmuck who tried to rip Lefty off. Based on this simple demonstration of Donnie's talents, Lefty introduces him to the rest of the gang as a "friend of mine," which is just another way of calling him a "connected guy." Incidentally, the rest of the gang consists of men like the lethally competitive Sonny "Red" (Robert Miano) and Sonny "Black" (Michael Madsen), goofy small-timer Nicky (Bruno Kirby), and the intimidating enforcer Paulie (James Russo). There's a particular style, too, that goes along with that kind of language and these kinds of names. Jeans and mustaches are out, and you carry your money in a roll with the largest bill on the outside. There's so much behavior and terminology to remember that a guy could almost forget who he really is.
- Speaking of which, Donnie Brasco's real name is Joseph Pistone. He's an undercover FBI agent who, with Lefty's unwitting help, has finally managed to infiltrate the New York mob scene. While Joe's job is a constant source of friction between him and his shrewish wife Maggie (Anne Heche), his calculating FBI supervisor (Gerry Becker) is happy to sacrifice Joe for the greater good. But that's not the only reason Joe stays undercover. As the film progresses, it becomes obvious that Lefty is the only real friend he has left. Pulling out now would be the moral equivalent of, in Donnie's words, "putting the bullet in his head myself." Of course, as the FBI worries about Joe's increasingly erratic behavior and the gangsters try to ferret out the rat in their midst, it may be that Donnie's fate will be determined by a higher power. As Lefty's lament for a recently whacked colleague points out, "I'm a spoke on a wheel, and so was he, and so are you."
- Even beyond its wonderful writing, there is much to recommend Donnie Brasco. This is Al Pacino's best (and most understated) performance in a long time, and Johnny Depp is equally perfect as a man whose job pervades his entire life. The film's secondary characters are a treasure, too, with one-time character actors like Paul Giamatti and Tim Blake Nelson showing up as lesser FBI agents who initiate a specific conversation about...well, fuggedaboutit. The only misfire is Maggie (rhymes with "naggy"), whose shrill personality inadvertently argues that Joe is better off with the gangsters. Thankfully, this is but a small flaw in an otherwise wonderful example of how modern interpretations of the gangster film should look and, more importantly, sound.
- This was loosely based on a true story, although apparently the real "Lefty" didn't die at the end.
