Ronin (1998) • Directed by John Frankenheimer

While plumbing the depths of streaming archives for Robert De Niro movies, it’s easy to overlook the ones that aren’t truly great. We all know Taxi Driver, Goodfellas, and The Godfather Part II by heart, but we forget about movies like Casino, Heat, and A Bronx Tale (his best-known acting and directing credit). One such film, available on a random list of streaming sites, caught my eye as something I had never even heard of before. With decent reviews and some big names attached, I decided to give Ronin a try.

More than anything, the movie is surprising. Not for the plot, which is pretty standard, and not even for the execution, which is quite good for a 90s movie made by prolific 60s director John Frankenheimer. The surprise comes from the fact that the film is wrapped in a tiresome presentation, yet has an indescribable appeal that transcends its basic trappings. The movie hits every international spy cliché in an almost inherently flawed way yet stands out thanks not to one aspect but a wide array of perfectly aligned factors.

Item 1: the direction. In recent years, John Frankenheimer has made some shitty movies, but in the 60s, his credits included movies like The Manchurian Candidate that were released to near-universal acclaim. I’m not old enough to remember the release of his lackluster back catalog, as Frankenheimer died four years after Ronin‘s 1998 release. Even nearing 70, Frankenheimer conjures an impressively tense tone, set forth by the brilliantly quiet opening sequence that demonstrates the lingering Cold War anxieties in Europe. Granted, this film also has ridiculous (but fun) car chase scenes, a shocking civilian death toll, and a central, mysterious briefcase MacGuffin, but it’s all part of the spy-action charm. The tension also illustrates an unusual focus that makes Ronin unique. These traits are not the central elements of the movie. You can laugh at the above features all you want — but you can’t deny that each character resonates far more than this story deserves.

Item 2: the script. This is the most difficult aspect of the movie to discuss. On one hand, it’s almost entirely inessential (see above). One could be satisfied watching the movie for the chase scenes, which are as fresh as The French Connection. However, the simplicity of it all makes something out of nothing; its pure lack of story almost lends more to the Ronin legacy than anything else. The lingering concept of postwar mercenaries, either wandering without a mission or blindly tied to a hopeless one, ties in just enough to inform the whole film. Despite a wrap-up ending that is blatantly unsatisfying, the script, co-written by David Mamet (writer of Glengarry Glen Ross and The Untouchables) takes his typically small-scale approach and extends it to an international playing field. Plus, this is all accomplished without loosening the grip of De Niro’s affecting performance.

Item 3: the cast. Here’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for. This movie would certainly not be the same without its pitch-perfect cast. Jean Reno plays the gold-hearted second to De Niro, earnestly absorbing knowledge while matching De Niro’s openness. Natascha McElhone is the organizer but is as instantly drawn to De Niro as we are to them both. Rounding out the cast is the quiet and confident Stellan Skarsgard and Sean Bean as the perfectly played hothead Brit. With two memorably villainous antagonists introduced later in the film, the final explanation for the “who/what/when/where/why” of the briefcase pales in comparison to the people drawn to it, and the stellar performances behind those characters. Unsurprisingly, Robert De Niro shines above all others. More than anything else, he is the center of the film, balancing his action sequences with poetically brusque dialogue and supreme confidence. The movie would not be the same without him, which I think is ultimately the bottom line of every De Niro film.

Ronin is certainly flawed in almost every aspect, but there’s more here than meets the eye. If you haven’t seen Raging Bull, it should be your first choice, no question; but anyone who thinks they’ve seen De Niro’s entire catalogue should start eyeing the deeper cuts. Odds are, some will pleasantly surprise you.

— Cory Cogley

Raging Bull (1980) • Directed by Martin Scorsese

I don’t have a whole lot of time, so I’ll do the unthinkable and write less about Raging Bull than Cory wrote about Ronin (which I now want to see). I just watched the early Scorsese masterpiece for the first time last week, and am now in disbelief that I endured nearly two decades of cinephilia without experiencing this raw, system-shocking tour de force.

Raging Bull, the tale of ferociously driven boxer Jake La Motta, digs deep and ugly into crazed masculinity and male insecurities, refusing, fittingly, to pull any punches. De Niro, as La Motta, gives a stunning, multifaceted performance, helping to turn the fighter into one of the most fully realized macho man protagonists in cinematic history. The film fittingly precedes The Irishman thematically and structurally, with both presenting a larger-than-life historical figure at their most human moments (maybe I’ll write more about that later). Over the narrative’s life-spanning duration, the detestable yet complicated La Motta navigates a turbulent relationship with his equally fiery brother, played with virtuosity by Joe Pesci, and intense, self-conscious insecurities revolving around his sexuality and his body. Holy moly, this movie came out in 1980! Though its protagonist’s outward behavior is regressive, his elegantly portrayed, deeply uncomfortable inward churning makes Raging Bull a film squarely ahead of its time, still starkly relevant and viciously absorbing to this day. Watch it. And then watch Ronin.

— Isaac Handelman

‘Ronin’ is streaming on YouTube, Tubi, and Vudu.

‘Raging Bull’ is streaming on Netflix.