Get Gotti

Netflix's Get Gotti (2023) is a slickly produced docuseries that dives into the rise and fall of John Gotti, the Teflon Don with a flair for the dramatic. Equal parts history lesson and crime thriller, it walks the fine line between admiration and indictment, showing how Gotti's larger-than-life personality made him both a media darling and a federal headache.

The pacing is sharp, the interviews are juicy, and the archival footage reminds us why Gotti was the gangster who wouldn't quit-until he did. It's got all the mob lore, courtroom drama, and wiretap paranoia you'd expect, wrapped in a binge-worthy package.

Is it groundbreaking? Not exactly. But it's a polished, engaging watch that understands its subject's mythos. If you like your true crime with a dash of old-school swagger and a pinch of federal persistence, Get Gotti is a hit worth taking.

Well made and perfectly watchable but little more than an overview of the main events and certainly doesn't contain anything that hasn't been covered before in multiple docs and books before, often with a lot more info and context. In particular no mention of the fact there was at least one credible mob attempt to kill him after the Castellano hit, nothing about his son being run over and killed in 1980 (and the subsequent 'disappearance' of the driver), and nothing about perhaps the most absurd/arrogant murder attributed to him and caught on the ravenite tapes; having an underling 'whacked' for missing a couple of meetings!!

The rise and fall of crime boss John Gotti is an interesting story. There's even a secondary story, that of different U. S. enforcement agencies that were competing to convict him, rather than cooperating. Unfortunately, this Netflix documentary spins the story out to a far greater length than it requires, with too many talking heads saying things like "this time, I really thought we'd got him" ad naseum, and endless details provided that add little insight to the overall narrative. I feel that with Netflix there's often a presumption that "more is more", and what could have been gripping if briefer becomes repetitivie and dull. The series also allows former gangsters to laugh about their crimes under interview without challenge as if it was all good fun, which leaves a sour taste.

This documentary series boasts a compelling atmosphere reminiscent of Netflix's acclaimed true crime productions. Its greay quality and seamless transitions, coupled with cut scenes capturing the nostalgia of 1980s New York, contribute to its visual appeal.

However, the disappointment lies in the absence of any groundbreaking revelations or fresh insights. As a dedicated enthusiast of mob-related cinema and documentaries, my anticipation for novel perspectives was unmet. I know the gotti story well. Very well, but the absence of even one shred of new content was profoundly disheartening.

Regrettably, this series merely comprises federal agents recounting their experiences of planting surveillance devices in buildings, lacking the depth necessary to delve into Gotti's story.

For those well-versed in titles like "Fear City" or the HBO production on Gotti (which I highly recommend), this documentary does not offer much beyond its polished aesthetics and period-specific charm.

Gotti's crew want to be in his favor. Law enforcement want the prestige of being the ones who catch him. Prosecutors want the prestige of being the ones who convict him. Reporters want the prestige of being the ones invited to his parties - more concerned with being seen with him than covering him.

Everyone in the documentary seems to gleefully tell everyone how they were connected to him, whether they were for or against him. The filmmakers could've done more to explain how bad Gotti was. How mob members, neighborhood residents, law enforcement and the legal system were all in a cult-like infatuation with him. Instead it seems they're in the cult, too. It's almost a glorification of the guy.

The end result is you fell like you're watching people talk about that time they once met the cousin of Elvis Presley's barber's dog sitter.