Illustration by Michael DiMilo
★★★☆☆
Comfort Food: Review of The Alto Knights
By Geoff Carter
The Mafia is an American institution. So is the gangster film. From Little Caesar, White Heat, and The Public Enemy to The Godfather—the definitive mother of all modern gangster movies, Goodfellas, The Irishman, A Bronx Tale, The Sopranos, and Casino, the culture of organized crime, including sit-downs, whacking, hits, rats, and payoffs have become part of the American vernacular. And filmmakers keep cranking out these films because audiences cannot get enough of them.
It might be argued that elements of gangster cinema have become as embedded in our culture as the Mafia itself. Actors like Joe Pesci, Al Pacino, Michael Imperioli, Joe Mantegna, Ray Liotta, and lesser-known supporting actors like Tony Sirico, Vincent Pastore, Frank Vincent, Katherine Narducci, and Lorraine Bracco are as familiar to us as next-door neighbors or classmates from a high-school reunion.
Enter The Alto Knights, a biopic examining the real-life friendship and rivalry of mob bosses Frank Costello (Robert DeNiro) and Vito Genovese (Robert DeNiro). Directed by Hollywood veteran Barry Levinson who gave us—among many others—Diner, Rain Man, Sleepers and Bugsy, the film combines documentary footage and historical montage to give The Alto Knights a feeling of authenticity, a sensibility that is belied by its incessant, almost cloying familiarity. It is, as another critic suggested, like sitting back in a worn and familiar Barcalounger.
The story begins as Frank Costello, returning from a fundraiser, is shot in the head while waiting for the elevator in his apartment building. Somehow, he miraculously survives, but knows the attempted assassination, engineered by childhood friend and rival Genovese, will not be the last.
Levinson and screenwriter Nicholas Pileggi (Goodfellas—another Mafia biopic) use Costello as the main narrator, reminiscing about his early friendship and escapades with Genovese and their time hanging out in The Alto Knights Social Club. Using black and white photos and some archive footage—most notably a Louis Prima and Keely Smith show—to set the scene in early 20th century New York City—which it does quite well.
The protagonist narration necessarily focuses the dynamics of the plot on Costello, leaving the audience to surmise Genovese’s motives to overthrow him—which seem to arise from chronic greed and paranoia. During the period when Genovese had to leave the country, Costello consolidated the New York families and made himself the undisputed leader of the Luciano Family. After Genovese’s return, he demands a bigger piece of the pie from Costello, who tries to slow him down. He also discourages Genovese’s drug trade, maintaining it will bring unwanted attention to their organization.
After the assassination attempt, Costello informs Genovese he is willing to cede control of the operaation to him, but Genovese, believing Costello is trying to set him up, takes action. He kills Costello’s protégé Albert Anastasia (Michael Rispoli) in a barbershop. Costello realizes Genovese’s true ambition: to take over the entire Five Families. Knowing that Genovese will have to kill him to realize his ambition, Costello comes up with an audacious plan.
He calls for a summit of every Mafia leader in the country on a small farm in northern New York named Apalachian during which he will pass the crown to Genovese. Costello takes his time, deliberately delaying his arrival. Somehow, the police are tipped off and bust up the meeting, resulting in the exposure of the machinations and extent of Mafia influence in America.
Whether or not Costello was the one who tipped off the cops has never been proven, but after the meeting resulted in obstruction charges for many of the attendees—along with Genovese’s incarceration, Costello got what he wanted, being able to retire—by betraying all of his colleagues.
The predominant trope in the movie is of course Robert DeNiro, underworld thespian emeritus, and his dual portrayal of Costello and Genovese. As always, he does an exceptional job portraying the two friends turned adversaries. Frank Costello’s subtle intelligence and measured strategic moves stand in stark contrast to Genovese’s rages and paranoid ravings. Rather than using CGI, Levinson chose to use prosthetics and make-up to differentiate the two characters while attaining a degree of historical accuracy. Unfortunately, the make-up is more distracting than it is believable; still, DeNiro’s skill transcends all else.
The trope of having one actor playing dual roles like Peter Sellers in Dr. Strangelove, Mike Meyers in the Austin Powers series, or Nicholas Cage in Adaptation can either be artistically necessary or just plain gimmicky. Was it necessary to have Peter Sellers play three roles in the Stanley Kubrick classic or Mike Meyers double up as Austin Powers and Dr. Evil? Probably not. But they were fun. Nicholas Cage’s portrayal of brothers Charles and Donald Kaufman in Adaptation, however, was intrinsically necessary to the thematics and narrative of the film. DeNiro’s portrayals in The Alto Knights border on the brilliant, but do they distract from the essence of the film itself? What would it have looked like had Joe Pesci or Rispoli played Genovese? It might have been a completely different movie. The scenes of Costello and Genovese having their sit-downs seem a little prolonged and unnecessarily talky—perhaps a tribute to DeNiro’s double diva aria.
Of course, DeNiro’s presence almost seems inevitable in a film like The Alto Knights. It’s his turf. This sense of inevitability—kind of a foregone familiarity—is a double-edged sword in this movie. Seeing familiar mob actors like Michael Rispoli and Katherine Narducci (The Sopranos) only underlines that feeling. The cinematography heavily hued in somber browns and earth tones is eerily reminiscent of The Godfather. Of course, in this film everything is eerily reminiscent of other gangster films, but it is not so much a homage as it is a retread.
Parts of The Alto Knights are brilliant. The detail of the meeting between the two protagonists in the candy story with the elderly owner outside shooing customers away is absolute Little Italy gold. The scenes between Frank and his wife Bobbie (Messing) are touchingly genuine and convincing, while the scenes between Vito and Anna are as unpredictable and volatile as Genovese himself. The other supporting actors are equally as brilliant. Rispoli in particular does a fantastic job as the steadfastly loyal Anastasia.
The Alto Knights is good weeknight viewing. It is comfortable, familiar, expected, and doesn’t contain much in the way of surprises. Sort of like your mother’s meatloaf. Comfort food. It is a well-executed competent movie that, considering the talent surrounding it, probably could have been much more.
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