While it is certainly more like an endurance race than a stroll through the park, there is something redeeming in its cinematic beauty.

While the craftsmanship is undeniable and the themes of spiritual belief, betrayal and redemption are laudable, the film feels flat and not as emotional or moving as it should be.

Scorsese doesn't glorify martyrdom, and he doesn't even hate the killers. He makes death as blunt and dull and useless as a snapped pencil. The point is that there is no point.

This irreconcilable separation between the sacred and profane, the spiritual and the material, the intellectual and the visceral, is clearly central to Scorsese’s understanding of faith. This is a staggeringly moving work.