"Life's a negotiation. It's all give and take."
No film about organized labor can please everyone, but Danny DeVito's Hoffa (1992) was an especially tough sell. Despite a high-powered cast, audiences stayed away and critics were divided. Jack Nicholson's curious performance makes Hoffa a difficult watch, even for impartial viewers.Hoffa follows Jimmy Hoffa (Jack Nicholson), controversial boss of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters. Along with trucker Bobby Ciaro (Danny DeVito), Hoffa recruits disparate workers through persuasion and muscle, making the Teamsters a powerful force. Unfortunately, Hoffa's ambitions get the better of him; he schemes his way to the Teamsters presidency, allies with organized crime and earns the ire of Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy (Kevin Anderson). Jailed for pension fraud, Hoffa watches his lieutenant Frank Fitzsimmons (J.T. Walsh) take over, making Hoffa more asset than liability.
Like most biopics, Hoffa compresses several decades of history into a feature length film. DeVito and writer David Mamet do a creditable job depicting union agitation; disadvantage truckers face armed scabs and gun-toting cops in brutal street battles. With the deck stacked against workers, Teamster involvement with the Mafia becomes understandable. Unfortunately, it gives authorities a perfect hook for prosecution; Hoffa's feud with Kennedy becomes personal, uncovering his rampant corruption.
Hoffa shapes into a rise-and-fall arc: Hoffa becomes one of America's biggest union chiefs, crosses the Kennedys, makes a deal with Richard Nixon and becomes a liability - to the union, to the Mob, to his political connection. Too bad Hoffa, for all his righteous bombast, is a flat character. We need more displays of energy, like his fast-talking intro hijacking Bobby's truck, than endless arguments with his colleagues. Is Hoffa a sincere activist consumed by ambition or a shark consumed by greed? He's too ill-defined to make to make an impression.
DeVito's direction is fine, handling set pieces like labor riots and Kennedy's interrogations of Hoffa with aplomb. Less skillful are gauche artistic touches; several scenes (including an ill-fated deer encounter) glow with Gone With the Wind-style sunsets; a boy stares mawkishly at corporate fat cats during a strike; or the double-exposure, talking heads handling of Hoffa's trial. Mamet arranges a clunky framing device which at least presents a plausible version of Hoffa's mysterious fate.
Jack Nicholson lost his acting mojo in the '90s, frequently devolving into Pacino-esque self-parody. Such is the case here: his Hoffa's all rage and scenery-eating intensity, his bizarre accent more Edward G. Robinson than Hoffa. The supporting cast fares better: Danny DeVito makes a good straight man, Armand Assante a cool, collected mobster, J.T. Walsh, Hoffa's treacherous right-hand man; and Kevin Anderson is an uncanny RFK. There are minor roles for John P. Ryan, Richard Schiff and Cliff Gorman.
Hoffa tries to be an epic account of American labor and a probing biopic. Given how few films depict union agitation in any detail, perhaps it's valuable in that regard. But it does little to get inside Hoffa's head or make him a compelling character, resulting in a long, tedious flick.