Saturday night, we saw The Departed, which I believe is one of the greatest movies ever made for one simple reason − it made me forget that I was in pain. For the first 15 minutes or so, I squirmed in bed, trying to find a comfortable spot. After a half an hour, I forgot that I was in bed. For the rest of the movie, I neglected to breath.

One critic on Rotten Tomatoes wrote that The Departed “reaches the heights of a Shakespearean tragedy.” What occurs in the movie is not only tragic, but unexpected. There’s an unwritten rule that heroes aren’t suppose to die and if they do, viewers are suppose to be given time to prepare for their demise.

Not in The Departed. Academy Award winning director Martin Scorsese pulls you into the story, grabs you by the shirt, slaps your around, then dumps you by the side of the road. There’s no escape. By the time it was over, Rich and I were examining ourselves for bruises.

Leonardo DiCaprio is brilliant as is Mark Wahlberg, whose acting has never impressed me. Matt Damon and Jack Nicholson are evil, evil, evil.

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