Boston isn’t just a backdrop in Martin Scorsese’s masterpiece, The Departed; it’s a living, breathing character, a complex beast of old-world loyalties and new-world ambitions. Its cobblestone alleys whisper secrets, its grand statehouse domes gleam with corruptible power, and its working-class neighborhoods pulse with a raw, tribal energy. This isn’t the Boston of postcard-perfect Revolutionary history. This is Scorsese’s Boston, a city of shadows and paranoia, where the line between cop and criminal blurs into a bloody smear on the pavement. To walk these streets is to step directly into the film’s taut, claustrophobic world, to feel the grit under your fingernails and the constant, unnerving sense that you’re being watched. It’s a journey into the heart of a cinematic battle for the city’s soul, fought between Colin Sullivan’s calculated ascent to the top and Billy Costigan’s desperate descent into the criminal underworld. Here, every brick building and waterfront view tells a story of ambition, betrayal, and the brutal cost of a double life. This guide is your map into that world, a pilgrimage to the sacred and profane grounds where saints and sinners played their deadly game. Get ready to explore the real Southie, Beacon Hill, and Charlestown, and see if you can spot the rat.
If you’re fascinated by how real-world locations become integral characters in film, you might also enjoy exploring the secret filming locations of Argo.
The Gleam of Power: Beacon Hill’s Gilded Cage
Every tale of corruption requires a symbol of the purity it tarnishes, and in The Departed, that symbol is the stunning golden dome of the Massachusetts State House. Perched atop Beacon Hill, it stands as the sun in the film’s constellation of power, the ultimate prize Colin Sullivan relentlessly strives to reach. It features in numerous establishing shots, serving as a constant, shining emblem of the legitimacy he yearns for and the institution Billy Costigan strives to protect from within. Standing before it, one can almost sense the weight of history and ambition bearing down. This is not merely a government building; it is the pinnacle of the power structure.
The Massachusetts State House: A Beacon of Deceit
Your journey appropriately starts here, at the heart of Sullivan’s world. Designed by the celebrated architect Charles Bulfinch and completed in 1798, the State House is a masterpiece of Federal architecture. Its 23-karat gold dome is so distinctive that it marks the official starting point for all road distances from Boston. In the film, it embodies everything official, powerful, and ultimately susceptible to corruption. Through Scorsese’s lens, it transforms from a landmark into a fortress with its gates wide open. For full impact, approach the dome from Boston Common. The sight of it rising above the lush greenery is breathtaking, creating a striking contrast between civic pride and the cinematic decay festering inside. Walking its perimeter, you can feel the solemn gravity. The air carries a different quality—cleaner, more orderly than the rugged streets of Southie or Charlestown. It perfectly reflects the polished mask Sullivan wears in public. For newcomers, the best way to experience this is to find a bench in the Common, look up, and picture the film’s final shot—a lone rat scurrying along a balcony rail with this very dome in the background. It’s a chillingly powerful piece of cinematic symbolism that resonates even more when experienced firsthand.
Suffolk University Law School: The Academy of Lies
Just a short stroll from the State House, nestled in Beacon Hill’s heart, stands Suffolk University Law School. This is where Billy Costigan, battered yet resolute, endures the punishing training of the Massachusetts State Police Academy. The imposing historic building at 120 Tremont Street substitutes for the academy in the film, its grand columns and stone facade lending weight to Billy’s trial. This is where his new identity is forged, ready to be broken. The scenes shot here are vital; they establish his intelligence, grit, and the deep anger that Queenan and Dignam believe make him ideal for their undercover mission. Standing outside, you can imagine recruits in gray sweats running the steps, their faces etched with fatigue and resolve. The Suffolk area is a busy academic center, sharply contrasting the isolation Billy is about to face. It’s a realm of rules, books, and clear objectives—everything Billy’s life will soon abandon. To soak in the atmosphere, grab a coffee at a nearby cafe and watch students come and go, unaware of the cinematic drama that played out on their doorstep. This underscores the film’s core theme: the covert battles waged beneath the surface of everyday life. It is the last place Billy Costigan is truly himself before descending into the nine circles of Frank Costello’s hell.
Costello’s Law: The Mean Streets of Charlestown
If Beacon Hill represents the city’s pristine intellect, then Charlestown is its tough, Irish heart. This is Frank Costello’s domain. A compact, one-square-mile neighborhood of brick row houses, narrow streets, and a strong sense of community, Charlestown’s history is as rich and multifaceted as any character in the film. As one of Boston’s oldest neighborhoods, it houses the Bunker Hill Monument and the USS Constitution, yet it has also earned a reputation over the decades as a hotspot for bank robbers and armored car thieves—a reality that Scorsese and screenwriter William Monahan skillfully integrate into the story’s fabric. The Charlestown depicted in The Departed is where loyalty serves as currency and secrets are guarded behind tightly shut doors. It feels like a village within the city, where everyone knows your name, your father’s name, and where your allegiances lie.
Capturing the Neighborhood’s Soul
Though many interior scenes, such as Costello’s iconic bar, were filmed on soundstages in New York, the exterior shots capture the authentic atmosphere of Boston’s grittier neighborhoods. To truly experience Costello’s world, you need to stroll through Charlestown’s streets. Begin near City Square and make your way up toward the Bunker Hill Monument. The architecture blends Federal and Greek Revival townhouses, but it’s the closeness of the homes that creates the area’s cinematic sense of claustrophobia. It’s easy to envision Costello’s crew disappearing into these alleys, the maze-like layout offering perfect protection against outsiders and law enforcement. Overlooking the neighborhood is the imposing Tobin Bridge, a massive steel connector to the north, symbolizing both escape and entrapment. The film uses these street views to ground the story in a place that is intensely local yet universally menacing. It stands in stark contrast to the open spaces of Boston Common. Here, buildings seem to lean in, listening. A helpful tip for visitors is to wear comfortable shoes and allow yourself to wander aimlessly. Don’t limit yourself to the main roads; slip into the side streets, admire the gas lamps, and absorb the history. In these quiet moments, standing on a corner that has remained unchanged for a century, you can most clearly hear the echoes of Frank Costello’s rule.
The Old North End Vibe
While Charlestown serves as the spiritual base for Costello’s crew, the film also draws from the character of Boston’s North End, the city’s oldest residential neighborhood and its traditional Italian enclave. In a memorable scene, Frank Costello violently attacks a man in a neighborhood grocery store. Although filmed on a set, the scene perfectly captures the North End’s atmosphere—a close-knit community where conflicts are often resolved internally, away from the watchful eyes of authorities. Walking through the North End, with its fragrant bakeries, family-run restaurants, and vibrant feast-day processions, offers a tangible sense of the old-world tribalism that defines Costello’s mindset, despite his Irish roots. He operates like a classic mafia don, and the North End physically embodies that culture in Boston. Visiting this area provides essential insight into the film’s themes of identity and loyalty. It reminds you that Boston is not a single monolithic city but a mosaic of fiercely independent neighborhoods, each with its own customs, language, and sense of justice. It’s an ideal complementary stop after Charlestown to grasp the city’s intricate social fabric.
Southie’s Battleground: Where Worlds Collide
No neighborhood is more central to the identity of The Departed than South Boston, or “Southie.” This is the battleground, the working-class Irish-American forge that shaped both Billy Costigan and Colin Sullivan. For decades, Southie was known for its fierce local pride, tight-knit community, and resistance to outsiders. The film captures this spirit perfectly, presenting it as a place where your family name holds immense weight and the code of silence is sacred. It’s the world Billy must convincingly re-enter, and the world Colin is desperate to escape, while still exploiting its connections for his benefit. Today’s Southie blends old and new, with trendy restaurants and modern condo developments appearing alongside traditional triple-decker homes and classic taverns. Yet, the spirit of the place—the one Scorsese captured on film—remains alive if you know where to look.
The Feel of the Streets
To truly understand Southie, you have to walk its streets. Begin on West Broadway and explore the residential areas. The iconic triple-decker houses, with their stacked porches and bay windows, define the neighborhood’s architecture. They symbolize a vertical community, families literally living on top of one another, a fitting visual metaphor for a place where everyone is involved in everyone else’s affairs. The film is full of shots of these streets, with cars cruising slowly and eyes watching from behind curtains. This atmosphere of constant surveillance wears down Billy. As you walk, you’ll notice the many Irish pubs on nearly every corner. Although the specific bar where much of the action unfolds was a set, you can visit a real Southie institution like Amrhein’s Restaurant, which appeared in the film during a scene with State Police brass. Ordering a beer at a bar that has been part of the community for over a century is the quickest way to tap into the neighborhood’s authentic spirit. You can feel the ghosts of generations of patrons, the echoes of whispered deals and long-kept secrets.
Castle Island and the Waterfront
The South Boston waterfront also plays a vital role, offering a stark, windswept backdrop to some of the film’s tensest moments. A visit to Castle Island, home to historic Fort Independence, is a must. The park provides sweeping views of Boston Harbor and Logan Airport. This kind of open, exposed space feels ominous in a film about secrecy. It’s a place where you can see for miles, but that also means you can be seen. You can easily imagine secret meetings happening here, the roar of a landing plane masking hushed, deadly conversations. The contrast between this wide-open area and the cramped interiors of the neighborhood’s bars and apartments is part of the film’s visual brilliance. It underscores the psychological prison the characters inhabit; even in open spaces, there’s no real escape. A useful tip is to visit on a weekday afternoon when it’s quieter. The solitude lets you fully appreciate the desolate beauty of the location and its role as a silent witness to the city’s criminal underworld.
The Brutal Climax: Architecture of Betrayal
As the film spirals toward its violent, inevitable conclusion, the locations become increasingly symbolic, reflecting the cold, harsh nature of the world these characters inhabit. The final act shifts from the cozy, though dangerous, confines of neighborhood bars to the stark, impersonal spaces of modern Boston, where the film’s themes of identity, duality, and betrayal are fully exposed.
The Erich Lindemann Building: The ‘X’ Marks the Spot
The setting for the film’s shocking climax is one of Boston’s most distinctive and controversial architectural landmarks: the Erich Lindemann Mental Health Center, part of the Government Center complex. Designed by Paul Rudolph, it stands as a towering example of Brutalist architecture, with its imposing, fortress-like concrete facade and unique corrugated texture. In the film, this is the building where Billy Costigan lives in an apartment provided by the police, and its rooftop serves as the stage for the final, tragic confrontation. Its stark, inhuman design offers a perfect visual metaphor for the psychological torment Billy endures. The building feels oppressive, alienating, and inescapable. While visitors cannot enter the residential area, standing at its base allows you to sense its monolithic presence. Looking up at the windows, you can almost see the ‘X’ that marks the spot—the tape Madolyn places on the window to signal Billy, unknowingly setting him up for his death. This building is more than just a location; it serves as a tombstone, symbolizing the soulless nature of the institutions that ultimately consume both men. For film enthusiasts, it is a chilling and powerful site, a monument to one of cinema’s most devastating finales.
The Final View: A Rat’s Perspective
The Departed is framed by images of the State House dome, opening with the promise of power and concluding with a damning judgment on it. The film’s very last shot shows a rat scurrying along a balcony railing, with the golden dome shining in the background. Although the balcony belongs to the apartment at the Lindemann Building, the strength of the shot lies in its symbolism, linking the highest levels of power to the lowest forms of life. It implies that corruption is not confined to the streets but has infiltrated the very institutions meant to protect the city. After visiting all these locations—the halls of power, the neighborhood hideouts, the brutalist apartment blocks—this final image remains with you as a parting thought. It reminds you that the Boston of The Departed is a city of layers, where the surface often conceals the full truth. The journey through these filming locations is more than a movie tour; it’s an exploration of the city’s soul, its history, and its ongoing conflict between saints and sinners, cops and criminals, those who escape and those who get departed. When you leave, you’ll see that golden dome in a new light, forever pondering the rats scurrying in the shadows just out of view.
