“WELL, ALEX, I’M in New York,” says Martin Scorsese, as if it needed saying: through his office window, Manhattan towers around him. The city is in his bones, and throughout our video conversation, slices of his life, much of it from his youth, crop up - the sights, the sounds, the smells - and, of course, the wiseguys, whose behaviour he’s been studying for decades. In The Irishman, his 2019 adaptation of Charles Brandt’s book I Heard You Paint Houses, based on confessions from real-life labour union official Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) and his relationship with union leader Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), he returned to the crime genre, but from a different vantage point. This time, he would explore its corrosive effect on a person’s soul. Taking a break…