The Alto Knights Review

Frank Costello was instrumental in the biggest mafia bust in US history, the moment that the FBI was forced to publically recognise the country-wide scourge of organised crime, the corruption of politicians, and the violence lurking just below the surface of America’s post-war glory. It’s a fascinating story filled with violence, intrigue, conflict, and betrayal. Unfortunately, none of that high-octane excitement comes across in The Alto Knights.

It starts off well. Frank Costello (Robert De Niro) is making his way back into a swanky New York apartment building, the kind with chequered floor tiles and an Art Deco flair. He greets the doorman, waits for the elevator – and is promptly shot in the head. It’s an “I bet you’re wondering how I got into this situation”-type device, throwing us into the centre of the action before showing us just how this apparently mild-mannered middle-aged man found himself losing consciousness against a bloodstained mirror.

Well, tells us more than shows us. The film is structured like a documentary at times, with an older Frank speaking directly to the camera and ‘archival’ photos and video flashing across the screen. It seems like an attempt to break away from the classic gangster film format, but all it really succeeds in doing is clunkily conveying exposition and dragging out any semblance of tension or flow from the story. Often, just when things start getting interesting, we’re pulled back to Frank’s voiceover. Not only is this framing never explained – it’s not a documentary, there’s no cheesy pull away to the view behind the camera – but it makes the whole story feel sterilised, told second-hand rather than embedding us in this world.

There are also significant tonal discrepancies throughout the film. It tries at times to be somewhat profound and meaningful, yet is also keen to lean into cartoonish gangster banter, so much so that it feels like a pastiche. Humour in this type of film is generally well-received, with quips and wordplay baked into the genre, but here it feels overdone and often misplaced. Without settling on whether it wants to be a historical drama or a lighthearted comedy, it makes it hard to take anything that happens seriously. What should be impactful deaths are hardly tear-jerking, and characters have so little emotional depth that they’re more cardboard cutout gangsters than the real deal.

One of the main cruxes of this story is that there were a lot of bosses involved in the mob nationally. The scale of the situation is heartily put across, with flashes of state number plates at an all-hands meeting showing the geographical scope of the affair, and the sheer number of fedora-wearing, gun-toting Italian Americans in the frame at any one-time striking. Unfortunately, the film never allows the audience to connect with any of these figures. Only a handful of characters really have much to say, and the constant barrage of “Look, it’s Jimmy the Nose!” and “My God, is that Bob ‘the killer’ Jones over there?” becomes tiring after a while. It’s difficult to keep track of who’s who when they’re only introduced for a split second.

One ‘selling point’ of the film is its use of De Niro as both mob bosses as they battle it out for control of the mafia. Dual roles are particularly popular at the moment across stage and screen, often to great effect, but there’s no benefit to the device here. The idea of two people growing up together and taking different paths, the suggestion that their destinies were something of a Sliding Doors situation, is potentially an interesting one. But, like with most of the interesting kernels in The Alto Knights, it never goes anywhere. What we’re left with is Robert De Niro talking to himself but with different glasses. He does a good job in both roles – he’s Robert De Niro playing a gangster and another gangster – but there’s so little holding the film together that his performance can never really get anywhere.

Although it tries to borrow from the greats and put its own spin on the genre, The Alto Knights is a several-times-photocopied version of the fascinating story it’s based on. Entertaining performances and a swathe of truly excellent fur coats don’t bring this fiction close to the enthralling true tale.