by Tim Gordon
If there’s one thing you can count on in American cinema, it’s that Hollywood’s fascination with the Mafia will never fade. From The Godfather to Goodfellas, there’s always another corner of the underworld to explore, another handshake in the shadows, another betrayal in the backroom.
The Alto Knights, directed by Barry Levinson and written by Goodfellas scribe Nicholas Pileggi, aims to be a worthy addition to that canon. On paper, it should be: a period piece about two titans of organized crime, Frank Costello and Vito Genovese, brought to life by none other than Robert De Niro in a dual role.
Yet for all its vintage mob glamour, The Alto Knights never fully shakes the feeling that it’s a greatest-hits cover band playing old standards. It’s not terrible, the bones are solid, and Levinson knows how to stage a smoky nightclub or a tense backroom sit-down. But the film never generates the pulse or the tragic heft that made earlier mob classics resonate for generations.
The story digs into the real-life rivalry that shook the underworld in the mid-1950s. Frank Costello, the so-called “Prime Minister of the Underworld,” is weary of the endless bloodshed and power plays that define his life at the top of the Luciano family. In contrast, his ambitious underboss, Vito Genovese, smells weakness and opportunity. When Genovese’s botched hit on Costello fails, the balance of power teeters on a knife’s edge. Genovese’s paranoia curdles into outright violence when he has Albert Anastasia, Costello’s heir apparent, brazenly gunned down while getting a shave. With the fragile peace shattered, Costello faces an impossible choice: hold on to power at the risk of total annihilation, or dismantle the criminal empire he built brick by bloody brick.
It’s an intriguing real-life chapter, and Pileggi’s script is packed with vintage gangster flavor, whispered betrayals, midnight phone calls, and back-alley rubouts. But while the details are there, the film struggles to breathe life into its heavy shadows. De Niro, ever the consummate craftsman, tackles both Costello and Genovese with admirable nuance. His Costello is all weary gravitas, a man trying to find a shred of peace in a world that knows no such thing. His Genovese, meanwhile, seethes with ambition and distrust, a man devoured by his paranoia. It’s a showcase role or two showcase roles for one of cinema’s greatest actors, but the movie never lets either man fully transcend the archetype.
Debra Messing brings some welcome warmth as Costello’s loyal wife, reminding us of the cost of this underworld life beyond the blood and bribes. Cosmo Jarvis and Kathrine Narducci deliver solid supporting turns, but no one’s given enough room to carve out a truly memorable moment. Levinson’s direction, while occasionally evocative, feels muted — a series of well-dressed tableaus rather than a living, breathing world.
And that’s the crux of The Alto Knights: it’s competent, even handsome at times, but oddly inert. It lacks the raw electricity and tragic depth that made Goodfellas, Casino, or The Irishman, all films to which this one owes a clear debt, so enduring. For all the real-life drama and underworld intrigue on display, it never grabs you by the collar and pulls you in.
It doesn’t help that audiences seem to have shrugged. Despite its pedigree, The Alto Knights was dead on arrival at the box office, grossing a paltry $9 million worldwide against its bloated budget. Maybe we’ve just seen too many of these stories, told too many times, by the same handful of directors and stars. Or maybe this one simply forgot the golden rule of mob movies: you can drench the suits in shadow and the streets in blood, but if the heart of the story isn’t pumping, no amount of style can save you.
The Alto Knights tries to rekindle the spark of classic mob cinema but winds up a pale echo of better films. De Niro does fine work twice, no less, but even a master can’t breathe fire into this familiar tale of paranoia and betrayal. A missed opportunity, but for genre completists, it’s at least worth a curious glance.
Grade: C
