Top 10 Robert de Niro Films

So The Irishman is on its way, destined to save cinema, the world, and the human race, so what better time to celebrate its star and quite possibly the greatest actor of all time, Robert de Niro? This guy is kind of awesome, able to convey cruelty and vulnerability, comedy and passion, sometimes even in the same performance. Compiling a list of his best movies is kind of difficult. There's just so much that's good, and ranking one over the other is a seriously tricky thing to do. But I tried my best, trying to focus on his performance in each one, while also focusing a little on the movie as a whole. I'm leaving some good stuff out here (I am so sorry, Stardust), but that's the cool thing about de Niro: there are no wrong answers. Except Little Fockers. One film that I had to leave out though was Brazil. Yes it's one of my favourite movies of all time, but his role in it is kind of secondary, and although he is great in it, he's just one of many great things in a film full of them, and it's hard to highlight his performance and say it's one of his best movies because of that. There's also a lot of his films that I've yet to see (Casino, Cape Fear, A Bronx Tale, This Boy's Life, Mean Streets) so do bear that in mind. With all that out of the way though, let's crack on!

10. Midnight Run

De Niro is rarely praised for how funny he can be, and my god is this one funny movie. Basically it's the story of a bounty hunter trying to bring a mob accountant across America while they're being pursued by just about everyone. Along the way though, they start to become.... friends? Okay, not quite, but the joy of this film is seeing these two guys develop this seriously mismatched relationship that goes from all out annoyance, to begrudging respect, to something like admiration. The back and forth between de Niro's tough-guy and Charles Grodin's out-of-his-depth accountant is so witty and so joyful to watch. It's made even better by the fact that, as the situation gets more absurd, they're gradually breaking each other down. The setpieces are huge and hilarious (the plane theft will never not make me cackle), but this film really excels with its quiet moments, like the conversation on the bus. A lot of this comes from de Niro, who can get a serious laugh with his deliveries while also giving this potentially one-dimensional bounty hunter so many layers. As road trip movies go, this is right up there, an odd couple story for the ages that mines the differences between these two guys for both surprising poignancy and serious laughs. It's just such a watchable movie that crackles with that old-school back and forth. And hey, who wouldn't get a kick out of de Niro poking fun at his tough guy image. Y'know, before he started doing it again, and again, and again, and again, and

9. The King of Comedy

Don't mention Joker, don't mention Joker, don't mention Joker.... DAMN IT! It's a weird time to talk about this film. With Joker drawing so much from it, it's kind of weird to talk about this story of failed stand-up turned creepy criminal in isolation. But screw it, this came first, and it's much, much better. Rupert Pupkin has to be the nastiest character that de Niro's played, because he's not your traditional tough guy thug. He's a leech, feeding off of Jerry Lewis' talk show host on his quest for stardom. He's not violent, but he is desperate, and that's actually worse, because he'll never be satisfied, and that's pretty terrifying. Scorsese is fairly uncompromising in his assault on the fame-hungry. It's a scorching satire on the entertainment industry that'll never not be relevant, with a cracking performance from its star that's thrillingly against type. It's also really dark, even with the PG rating, deftly blending some psychological thrills in with those satirical jabs. The script is laced with acid, with every laugh being so sharp that they're almost weaponised. The scariest thing though is the truth at the centre of the story, which ends on that brutally poignant observation; it's better to live like a king for a night than a shmuck for a lifetime. The world is full of Rupert Pupkins, and as long as it is, this movie will hold weight.

8. Silver Linings Playbook

Yeah, yeah, I know I disqualified Brazil because de Niro played a supporting role, but he's in this a lot more, and also plays a bigger part in the story and also it's my list and this film is lovely. This is one of the best modern rom-coms, and a big part of that is down to Robert de Niro and Jacki Weaver. Okay true, this is definitely a story about Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence's loveable oddballs and their delightfully strange romance, but in their roles as Cooper's parents is key in giving this film its quirky sensibilities. They're very much observers here, rarely leaving their house, instead offering commentary on the story from inside the story. De Niro is especially great as the gruff yet patient father, gambling to fund his dream of opening a restaurant. This is such a delightfully off-kilter film full of joy(get it because that's also a David O. Russell film)fully strange touches, among them de Niro with the charm cranked up to 100. He's obviously having a great time here, and it's that charisma that gives him such easy watchability. Is he the biggest component of this film? No. Is he the best thing in it? Most definitely

7. GoodFellas

The fact that this is only number seven should speak to the quality of this guy's output. GoodFellas is a film that needs to introduction. It's a masterpiece, singlehandedly defining and reshaping the gangster movie. It's a mad dash through three decades, highlighting how modern Americana is built on an unsavoury foundation, with Jimmy `The Gent` Conway standing in the shadows, quietly observing the rise and fall of Henry Hill. De Niro is a quietly menacing presence here as a kind of dark mentor figure, a man who changes as the world changes around him, swelling with pride in the boom and swallowed by paranoia in the bust. His rage is formidable, seen in one of cinema's best kicks, but his understated malice makes it all the worse. Just look at the way he stares Hill down in the court. It's a glimpse to see how the tough guys of 70s cinema would age, and with The Irishman promising to show how these lives come to an end, GoodFellas will surely come to be known as the perfect midpoint of the life of an American icon

6. The Deer Hunter

I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I think this film is 100% perfect, because I definitely don't. The first hour or so is completely unnecessary, and the whole thing is way too long. But when The Deer Hunter is good, it's insanely powerful, a soul-searing meditation on what turns boys into men. All of the central characters go through rage, pain and loss, but de Niro's Mike, desperately tracking down Christopher Walken's Nick in an attempt to keep him from going over the edge has got to endure the toughest ordeal. It's not an easy watch, but Michael Cimino's film is such a gut punch not because of its brutality, but because of its humanity. It contains multitudes, and all of its power and majesty are distilled into the quiet rage of de Niro's character. Deer Hunter's a flawed film, but when it hits, it's one of cinema's most scarring parables, and one of Bob's most defining roles. He's just too good to be true.

5. Raging Bull

Raging Bull, the film about Jake La Motta that's not actually about Jake La Motta. Raging Bull looks really good in 2019, with it's immensely powerful take on the self-destructive nature of the male ego. In de Niro's hands, La Motta isn't just an athlete; he's a tightly wound time bomb of rage and insecurity, and it's only a matter of time until he explodes, taking everything in his life with him. I know absolutely nothing about this guy, or boxing as a whole, but it doesn't actually matter. Scorsese takes the specific and makes it universal. This is the dark fate that awaits the alpha male, total implosion at the hands of his own insecurities. De Niro's physical transformation is the stuff of legend, training to become the fighter and piling the weight on to become the aftermath. But there's something else here, a darkness that lies beneath the muscle/fat. De Niro doesn't just embody La Motta's physicality; he draws out his demons and pits them against his dogged humanity. Inside the flabby cage lies a battered soul, an ugly bastard who's angry, violent, abusive, and deeply human. The film never justifies or excuses La Motta's behaviour, but through his involvement in the production and de Niro's unfathomably incredible turn, it ensures that there's a bruised spirit in the broken down Bronx Bull.

4. Heat

Michael Mann's Heat is so much more than a simple thriller. It's a coked-out battle of wills, a dark fable about the depth of obsession and a white-hot-LA-neo-noir-modern-western-cat-and-mouse-crime-epic that has all of the expanse of a TV series, which it actually started out as. Heat's a reworking of LA Takedown, Mann's TV pilot, and thought I haven't seen that, I do know that Heat rocks, plain and simple. True, Al Pacino's unstable cop Vince Hanna is a formidable screen presence, but it's Neil McCauly, de Niro's surprisingly empathetic bank robber that makes this film often. Here's a man who is always thinking about his escape. He's a slick, tough professional, but it's when Michael Mann scratches away at his cool surface that the film gets good. This mentality may have made him a successful criminal, but his distance from everything has let him totally unable to ever be satisfied. We're used to seeing cool, detached characters onscreen and having them completely idolised, but Heat suggests that there's actually a huge amount of sadness in there. Not superficial sadness, or hollow edge, but a lingering existential dread that's never quite done with its host. De Niro is superb here, not so much revealing layers as melding them together and playing it so naturally, and the result is such a complex fusion of traits in a character that you just have to like. Yeah he's got the scowl, the sunglasses and the machine guns (see above), but he's not just a badass. He's a man with an insatiable thirst for quick thrills and cunning escapes, always leaving everything he's got behind when the heat comes a-calling. But what happens when that's not so easy? Well, you get this absolute barn-stormer of a performance in this noir masterpiece

3. Once Upon a Time in America

WHY DON'T WE TALK ABOUT THIS MOVIE MORE? Sergio Leone's last film is possibly his best, a gargantuan epic that studies an entire life in one huge, multi-decade spanning sweep. There's a lot going on here, with the rise and fall of an empire in a country built on complexities and contradictions. This is America and its history onscreen, and one day I'll go into detail on everything that makes it so brilliant, but for now, we have Bob, in probably his most complex role. He plays the gangster Noodles at two crucial points in his life, first in his wild days of crime in the 30s, and then during his return to New York at the tail end of the 60s. Both plots are a delight in a film full of delights, but it's Noodles' deeply poignant return to the city that absolutely makes it. He relives his past, assesses his present, and ultimately, accepts the quiet uncertainty of his future. He reconciles with old friends and looks back on a life that overlapped with the tragic evolution of a nation. It's interesting that he plays this guy as two different characters, because he, like his country, the decades he lives through and the communities he's a part of, contains multitudes. In his old age, he deals with a lot of ghosts. Friends, enemies, lovers and opium (lots of opium) are just some of the spectres of his past, but what really haunts him are the past versions of himself. He's made of history, and watching as he gradually comes to terms with this is a slow burning, multi-layered treat, one that's intelligent, entertaining, strangely funny and deeply, deeply sad. From the look of it, this is something that The Irishman is going to evoke, a complex and patient musing on the men that history is made of. If it's anything like this, then we're in good hands.

2. The Godfather Part II

  
Okay yeah, the Vito storyline is just half of Godfather 2, but like, it's the best part of the film, and it speaks to the sheer quality of this plot that even in isolation, it's one of the best things he's ever done. Following the don from humble beginnings to the establishment of an empire, it bears some similarity to Once Upon a Time in America. They both run the arcs of their characters parallel to the evolution of America, but Godfather 2 has the slight edge for me. Vito goes from just another boy off the boat to the formidable godfather of the first film, but what always strikes me is his honesty. True, he's unrelenting and deadly, but his empire is built on good values, on loyalty and favours. Obviously I'm not counting any of the Michael stuff here, although the shift from Vito's honest rise to his son's corrupt descent in the 50s drives the America metaphor home: an honest foundation upon which a nation is built from violence and sin. De Niro (and his weirdly deep BrandoVoice) is at his most powerfully quiet here, playing the younger version of Brando's most iconic turn as a man of few words who values his family above all else and would do anything to ensure they have a good life. That this sees him become one of the unsung forefathers of his new home is just one of many pieces of pure poetry in this movie. His dark return to Sicily is a particular highlight, one that gives us a brief insight into his violent destiny. In this way, it's the perfect prequel, taking what we already know and reverse-engineering a story from it. It doesn't necessarily use the plot points from the first one to do this, instead playing more with the thematic weight that comes with this American tragedy, and honestly, its the best thing that Coppola's ever done. Even missing 50% of the plot, Godfather II is an absolute masterwork, telling us a story that we already know the end of to suggest that, imposing as Vito was, his beginnings were humble. His start is as a building block of New America, and it's all the more impactful because it reveals the reality of this character: that he was one of millions, and that this absolute titan of pop culture could have been any of them


1. Taxi Driver 

Obviously. Is this a copout? Not really? I mean I've gone on record saying that this is one of my all time favourite films, and it's just kind of really excellent. Scorsese's tale of nocturnal horror is made by de Niro's turn as Travis Bickle, God's Lonely Man who falls even deeper into his already destructive downward spiral. This is no vigilante tale, nor is it a celebration of violence. Instead, it's something a little harder to define. Travis was wounded before he was shipped off to war, but it's when he returns that things get worrying, and he commits social violence, convinced that he can bring some sort of balance to the neon hellscape of New York. De Niro is absolutely perfect here. He's got an intensity that I've never quite seen matched, by him or anyone else. Yeah, everyone knows the mirror monologue, but it's his quiet intensity that really stuns. And when the credits roll, it's not his brutality that lingers; it's his vulnerability. Travis isn't a hero, or an antihero. He's a wounded man taking his pain out on a city that he feels has failed him, and this slow motion explosion is as stunning as it is deeply disturbing. We're never asked to believe what he's doing is right (it isn't), or even to like him all that much. Scorsese's film is a character study, stripping away the machismo that these characters are usually portrayed with to reveal something much more interesting. Like so many of de Niro's tough guys, Bickle's no badass, instead he's a pained soul desperately, violently lashing out in a last ditch effort to make some sense of the world. Taxi Driver tells a tale of dark surrealism to show the human side of pain. It's cruel, but shockingly tender, dreamy but utterly real, and hands down my favourite film that de Niro's been in

My Thoughts on Little Monsters

Oh yes. This one's special. There's been so many awesome comedy horror films in 2019 (Ready or Not, Piercing, Extra Ordinary, Dave Made a Maze), but Little Monsters takes the absolute cake. I think every year as I stay up to date with movies, I find new go-tos. Films that worm their way into my heart, that I know I can watch over and over again. And with so many things coming out on screens big and small, I think having that experience is really, really important. Booksmart is my favourite movie of the year for a number of reasons, but the main one is that it's just so fun in a way that I can definitely see myself going back to again and again. I liked spending time with those characters, I liked being in their world and watching their adventures. That to me is one of the best things a movie can be. Little Monsters is very much that as well, blending comedy and horror with a huge amount of sweetness that I really didn't expect. This is the most heartwarming movie of the year so far, and that kind of surprises me. The trailer was awesome, but it set it up as a blackly comic gorefest about a washed up musician, a cheerful teacher, a cynical children's entertainer and a class of five year olds trying to survive in a petting zoo during an outbreak of zombies. Don't get me wrong, that stuff is there too, but, for me at least, this is the feel-good film of the year, and it left me in such a good mood skipping out of the cinema. Actually, when I went to see it the other night, I was the only one there, which was a) a pretty big shame considering how awesome and fresh it is and b) kind of really awesome because it let me just sit in the cinema and have fun with it. I laughed a lot at this one, and it's definitely one of the funniest movies this year. The humour ranges from very crass, to very dark, to very silly, often in the same scene. The absurdity of the situation is hilarious, and they get absolutely everything they can out of it. Awesome one-liners, awesome exchanges, awesome sight gags (Frogsy!), and a surprisingly great Josh Gad, who most of the time I find kind of very unfunny mean that its an absolute riot first minute to last. Add to that some pleasing gore (if not quite scares), and you've got a fun ride.

But that's not why I loved it. I love optimistic films. Not schmaltzy oversweetness, but genuine positivity and happiness. I love cinema that can find kindness and joy, that disarms any cynicism with the power of sheer upbeat energy. True, there's a lot of dark humour in this movie, but there's something here that's much stronger: pure, unashamed optimism. Lupita Nyong'o's Miss Caroline is easily my favourite character from a 2019 movie. She's a badass with one mission: protect her class from the onslaught of zombies. She's an amazingly positive hero, and it's obvious that Nyong'o (who's already having an incredible 2019 with Us) is having a great time playing her. She embodies the movie's message of kindness and positivity, and offers Dave an alternative to his miserable life, and watching him go from a cynical bastard to a happy, dedicated uncle is an awesome arc. The joy she brings in this film is what makes this film so damn special. The world's kind of a chaotic place right now, and although cinema is in great shape, I feel like sometimes there's a bit of a fear of fun. Not just in big studio productions where everything is manufactured to be just so, but even in genre cinema. Look at The Dead Don't Die, a film that was too cool to be a good time, because that's not hipster enough. Maybe it's just me, but the thrill of Little Monsters was how unafraid it was to be warm hearted and joyful, to be fun and uncynical. It was pure, sunny, unapologetically gory fun. One fun ride and very telling of what I love about cinema. It's also got the best ending of the year. This was just what I needed.