“The Departed,” directed by Martin Scorsese and released in 2006, is a complex crime thriller that deftly blends themes of loyalty, betrayal, identity, and morality, all wrapped in a narrative of relentless tension. The film is an adaptation of the 2002 Hong Kong film Infernal Affairs, and its American setting brings a grittier tone and a deeper exploration of character psychology, in line with Scorsese’s signature style. Featuring a stellar cast that includes Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, and Mark Wahlberg, “The Departed” not only delivers riveting performances but also offers a layered narrative that explores the intricate relationships between its characters and the worlds they navigate.
At the core of “The Departed” is the theme of duality, a concept that Scorsese is clearly fascinated by and one he frequently returns to in his filmography. The plot revolves around two men leading double lives: Billy Costigan (DiCaprio), an undercover cop infiltrating the mob, and Colin Sullivan (Damon), a mobster who has infiltrated the police. Both men exist in a state of constant deception, their identities blurred and their moral compasses challenged by the roles they have been forced to play. Scorsese explores this duality not just through the narrative but also through his direction, creating a world where the line between right and wrong is constantly shifting.
Billy Costigan is arguably the film’s most tragic figure. From the beginning, he is depicted as someone without a stable sense of self. Born into a family with a history of criminal activity, he joins the police force to escape that legacy, only to be asked to dive back into the criminal underworld in order to take down the powerful mob boss Frank Costello (Nicholson). As an undercover officer, Costigan is tasked with living a lie every day, creating a life for himself within Costello’s organization while trying to maintain his sanity and moral integrity. DiCaprio’s portrayal of Costigan is both intense and heartbreaking, as he conveys the deep sense of fear, paranoia, and inner turmoil that comes with living under constant threat. Costigan’s life is one of perpetual anxiety, as he is constantly trying to avoid exposure, all while yearning for some semblance of peace and normalcy that remains forever out of reach.
In contrast, Colin Sullivan is a character who thrives in deception. Raised by Costello from a young age, Sullivan is molded into a trusted mole within the Massachusetts State Police. Damon’s performance is chilling in its precision, portraying Sullivan as a man who is comfortable with duplicity and who can shift between identities with ease. While Sullivan appears outwardly calm and in control, there is a growing tension beneath the surface, as he too feels the weight of living a lie. Sullivan’s personal life is a mirror of his professional one; even his romantic relationship with psychiatrist Madolyn (Vera Farmiga) is built on a foundation of deceit, as he conceals his true nature from her. Unlike Costigan, Sullivan does not seek redemption or escape from his double life. Instead, he views it as a means to climb the social and professional ladder, motivated by self-preservation and ambition rather than any sense of morality.
The relationship between Costigan and Sullivan is central to the film’s tension, as both men are unknowingly working toward the same goal: uncovering the rat in their respective organizations. This cat-and-mouse dynamic keeps the audience on edge, as Scorsese meticulously builds suspense through each encounter, each near miss, and each subtle revelation. The film constantly plays with the audience’s expectations, making it unclear who will emerge victorious in this deadly game of deception. The audience is privy to information that the characters are not, which only heightens the sense of dread as the two men come closer to discovering each other’s true identities.
Jack Nicholson’s portrayal of Frank Costello is another highlight of the film, as he brings a chaotic, almost theatrical energy to the role of the mob boss. Costello is a figure of immense power and unpredictability, a man who rules his criminal empire with an iron fist but who also seems to relish in the violence and madness that come with it. Nicholson’s performance is larger than life, and at times it threatens to overshadow the more subdued performances of DiCaprio and Damon, but it also serves as a reminder of the volatility of the world these characters inhabit. Costello is not just a villain; he is a force of nature, a symbol of the corruption and moral decay that infects both the criminal underworld and the police force.
Scorsese’s direction in “The Departed” is as sharp as ever, with the film’s pacing and tension impeccably managed. The film is long, running at two and a half hours, but it never drags, thanks to Scorsese’s ability to keep the stakes high and the narrative tightly wound. The editing, particularly in the final act, is rapid and chaotic, reflecting the escalating tension and the characters’ increasingly frantic attempts to stay one step ahead of each other. The use of music, another hallmark of Scorsese’s style, is also notable, with the film’s soundtrack featuring a mix of classic rock and traditional Irish music that adds to the film’s atmosphere of rebellion and conflict.
One of the film’s most striking elements is its exploration of identity and how it is shaped by external forces. Both Costigan and Sullivan are trapped by the roles they are forced to play, their identities dictated by the expectations of those around them. Costigan is constantly torn between his desire to be a good cop and his fear of becoming like the criminals he is trying to take down. Sullivan, on the other hand, is trapped by his loyalty to Costello, even as he tries to build a life for himself outside of the mob. Both men are ultimately victims of their circumstances, forced to live lives that are not truly their own. The film suggests that identity is fluid and malleable, constantly shifting in response to external pressures and internal desires.
“The Departed” is also a meditation on the corrupting influence of power and the blurred line between law enforcement and criminality. Scorsese portrays both the police and the mob as deeply flawed institutions, riddled with corruption, betrayal, and moral ambiguity. The film does not present a clear distinction between good and evil; instead, it shows how both sides are equally compromised, with individuals on both sides willing to lie, cheat, and kill to achieve their goals. This moral ambiguity is best exemplified in the character of Captain Queenan (Martin Sheen), a police officer who represents the last vestige of integrity in the film, but who ultimately meets a tragic end. His death serves as a grim reminder that in the world of “The Departed,” even the most honorable characters are not immune to the violence and chaos that surround them.
The film’s conclusion is both shocking and inevitable, as the carefully constructed web of lies finally unravels and the truth is laid bare. The final act is a bloodbath, with nearly every major character meeting a violent end. This relentless conclusion underscores the film’s themes of futility and existential dread. Despite their best efforts, neither Costigan nor Sullivan is able to escape the consequences of their actions. In the end, the truth comes at a high price, and no one is left unscathed.
Mark Wahlberg’s character, Sergeant Dignam, is particularly interesting in the final moments of the film. While he plays a relatively small role throughout the narrative, his presence becomes pivotal in the conclusion. As one of the few characters not directly implicated in the web of deceit, Dignam represents a form of justice that is swift and brutal, though not necessarily righteous. His final act of retribution against Sullivan is a chilling reminder that in the world of “The Departed,” justice is often messy, bloody, and far from satisfying.
In terms of its cinematography, the film is visually striking, with cinematographer Michael Ballhaus using Boston’s urban landscape to reflect the characters’ internal turmoil. The city becomes a character in itself, its gritty streets and dark alleyways serving as a backdrop for the film’s exploration of crime and corruption. The use of light and shadow is particularly effective in conveying the duality of the characters’ lives, with many scenes bathed in darkness, suggesting the moral murkiness of the world they inhabit.
“The Departed” is a masterful exploration of loyalty, betrayal, and the moral compromises that come with power. Scorsese’s direction is taut and precise, the performances are outstanding, and the narrative is both complex and deeply engaging. It is a film that keeps the audience on edge from start to finish, never allowing for a moment of complacency. More than just a crime thriller, it is a study of human nature and the lengths people will go to in order to protect their identities and achieve their goals. In the end, “The Departed” is a tragic tale of men trapped by their own deceptions, unable to escape the consequences of their choices, and it stands as one of Scorsese’s finest films.
