Sergio Leonne's final, loving ode to the medium he adored is possibly his best. The greatest poets can describe the ineffable through words, but Leonne, the filmmaker, can the describe the indescribable without using words. One of the first scenes, where Noodles (De Niro), as an old man, returns to the bar that was the focal point of so much of his storied life, is a perfect example of this. The camera pans gradually and contemplatively over black and white pictures as Noodles looks agape, lost in his memories. He then slowly walks towards what appears to be an unremarkable closet or storage area, but Noodles, and the film, treats it as if it were hallowed ground. Entering the closet, he gazes through a small opening in the wall and sees the elegant dancing of the girl he used to spy upon as a pubescent boy, now looking mournfully into his lost youth. As I watched, I felt deeply affected, as if the old Italian director had somehow communicated to me what it was like to look back on a lifetime of memories. I was so profoundly moved, and the film had barely even started yet! The movie documents the life of Noodles and his friends, young hoodlums in prohibition-era America, and how they grew from boys to men, and from small-time thieves to established gangsters. An intriguing duality is raised because as the boys grow in their capacity for crime, so too does their sense of loyalty and love towards one another. Through the course of life though (especially one of a criminal), the capacity for loyalty is tested by ambition, and love can stray into the darker shades of obsession. As disarmingly whimsical as the film can often be, it has equal capacity to be extremely grim and disturbing. It's truly a biopic that explores both the very best and the very worst aspects of humanity. Make sure to catch the full, unedited 227 minute version of the film, as though the movie is long, not a second of Leonne's final masterwork is missable. 