Black Mass is a grim portrait of the godless heart

Perhaps Charles Darwin was onto something. People often act as savagely as animals do, the strong thoughtlessly devouring the weak. Man subordinates his great intelligence to cravings for wealth, leisure, and power. Black Mass tells the real-life story of one of those cunning and vicious predators, James “Whitey” Bulger, a South Boston Irish crime boss who expanded his empire under the aegis of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

The film begins in 1975 and follows Bulger (Johnny Depp) through his most criminally prosperous years. Agent John Connolly (Joel Edgerton) convinces his FBI bosses Bulger is merely a small-time crook who possesses information that can help the Bureau reel in larger fish—North Boston’s Italian Mafia. Although Bulger despises “rats,” he seizes on a golden opportunity to get the FBI to eliminate his competition. Bulger’s tips lead to the takedown of Boston’s most prominent crime famiglia. In return, largely due to Connolly’s deceptive reports, the FBI turns a blind eye to Bulger’s takeover of the entire city’s numbers rackets, vending machine operations, and drug sales.

Career ambition, greed, and misplaced loyalty spur Connolly, who grew up in South Boston revering the older Bulger, to increasing complicity in his criminal activities. But a new federal prosecutor (Corey Stoll) arrives in Boston and turns up the heat on the Bulger-FBI alliance.

Black Mass (rated R for violence, language throughout, some sexual references, and brief drug use) maintains a tight focus on Bulger, Connolly, and their closest associates. Viewers never see Bulger enjoying the fruit of his ill-gotten earnings. He seems to be motivated only by the desire to control every aspect of his environment. Merely questioning his orders can get you buried in the bank by the Charles River.

Director Scott Cooper manages a meticulous production. The orange and brown wallpaper of the 1970s gives way to the yellows and greens of the ’80s. As the film’s years roll forward, truncated Cadillac Sevilles replace their titanic Fleetwood ancestors. Depp, almost unrecognizable under superlative prosthetics and make-up, turns in an Oscar-worthy performance. Bulger breaks from a clench-jawed grimace only to grin psychopathically or to snarl hatefully at the few who would dare double-cross him. Edgerton’s smarmy Connolly evokes no audience pity as he repeatedly breaks his law enforcement oath, digging himself into a deeper pit.

Black Mass rightly makes little effort to humanize a vicious murderer and criminal kingpin, proving Darwin got it wrong—backwards, even. Man once had close communion with God but fell. Sin—especially the casualness of murder in the shadow of Darwinism—is the evidence of man’s devolution. But without throwing oneself on the mercy of Jesus Christ, death is only the beginning of man’s descent.