An Ode to Al Pacino's Ice Cream Obsession in The Irishman
The Irishman is about a lot of things: regret, Al Pacino, loneliness and how much being old sucks. More importantly, it’s about one man’s enduring appetite for ice cream. From the first introduction of Pacino’s Jimmy Hoffa to his conspiracy-laden disappearance, the veteran actor consumes four sundaes in 3½ hours. (That’s a rate of one ice cream per hour!) When you leave the theater (or close the Netflix tab, let’s be real) after Martin Scorsese’s leisurely-paced gangster epic, you’ll probably feel a sudden craving for frozen dairy as much as a bathroom break.
Pacino is superb as the Teamster leader who would (supposedly) meet his untimely end at the hands of mob hit man Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro). His line readings of words such as “SO-LI-DA-RI-TY” and “COCKSUCKERS” are so satisfying, they’re almost melodic—but what struck me the most was the ferocious pace at which he devours frozen treats. He savors every spoonful, radiating child-like joy at the taste of a well-made sundae. There is rarely a moment where Pacino is not seen with a dessert spoon in his hand. Ice cream has never looked more appetizing.
The Irishman may be heavy on ice cream content, but it’s not the actor’s first on-screen interaction with the frozen dessert. In Scarface, Tony Montana tries to pick up a girl by offering her ice cream, to little success. Then there’s the Mad TV sketch which imagines the actor and De Niro being faced with the impossible task of choosing from flavors such as “Bananarama-Ding-Dong-Fudge”, “Stop in the Name of Fudge” and “Four Score and Seven Years Ago Our Fudge Fathers...”
Pacino and ice cream have, regrettably, been pulled apart for far too long, but Scorsese’s new film is what finally unites them. Jimmy Hoffa isn’t necessarily known for his affinity for frozen dairy. It’s mentioned once briefly in I Heard You Paint Houses, the Charles Brandt book on which the film is based, so I guess they just went to town on that one minor detail and fed Al Pacino a ton of ice cream. The actor was more than happy to consume as many cups as he can handle: "When I took the role, I was like, You mean I get to eat ice cream in this part? I'm in,” he said in an interview. Same, Al!
Perhaps to avoid the threat of being overwhelmed by flavor variations, Jimmy often sticks to one type of sundae, henceforth known as the quintessential Jimmy sundae: vanilla soft serve ice cream with chocolate sauce and a cherry on top—a classic American incarnation of the dessert. Like a civilized individual, his ice cream always comes in a glass, never in a cone. Jimmy bonds with Frank’s daughter Peggy over the frozen treat—have you ever stopped to consider that Anna Paquin (who plays the adult Peggy) never speaks in this movie because she’s too busy thinking about ice cream? Some food for thought.
That first ice cream would be the only chance for Jimmy to have his ice cream in peace. Jimmy and Frank celebrates a successful court trial at Hildebrandt’s in Long Island. (He’s the only one eating while everyone else is drinking coffee—why does no one else like ice cream??) Suddenly, the news of President Kennedy’s assassination is heard on the radio, and while the distressed patrons weep, Jimmy returns to his dessert once again—the sign of a man whose priorities are in order.
Not even incarceration can deny Jimmy his beloved sundae. In one scene during his time in Lewisburg prison, an inmate makes an ice cream for him. It’s vanilla with chocolate sauce and a cherry once again, with the added touch of crushed walnuts on top. Jimmy, ecstatic at the discovery of new toppings, calls it a “work of art”, but before he can enjoy it, his rival Tony Pro (Stephen Graham) interrogates him about taking away his pension. Boooo. A heated discussion becomes a full-on fight that culminates in Tony throwing Jimmy’s ice cream off the table. Reader, I gasped.
Unfortunately, Jimmy’s obsession with ice cream would ultimately lead to his downfall, as he’s too focused on eating to care about Frank’s warning that there are people who want him dead. “Enough!” Hoffa rebuffs. “Let me enjoy my ice cream.” Even when his life is in danger, nothing can come between Jimmy Hoffa and a sundae—except murder, obviously. Maybe ice cream is a symbol of Jimmy’s immaturity and recklessness in dealing with the mob. Or maybe the guy just loves dessert.
Yes, The Irishman is a melancholic gangster epic in which a hit man kills so many people that his actions alienate him from the people he loves most—but what if it’s actually a warning about the dangers of caring for ice cream too much?
Al Pacino and Robert De Niro have spanned generations as acting royalty. And their latest, The Irishman, has the feeling of one final coronation. Here the two legends riff about Scorsese, The Godfather, and five decades of Hollywood fame.
The two legendary actors talked about the movies they picked—and the ones they passed on.
Originally Appeared on GQ
