Robert De Niro is cinema's greatest living actor. Even if these days, it's a title retained by default rather than because of any startling new work.

It's his symbiotic relationship with Martin Scorsese that has forged De Niro's reputation. Barring "The Godfather Part II", he's never made a masterpiece without his fellow New Yorker at the helm, and Scorsese has never equalled his work with De Niro in "Mean Streets", "Taxi Driver", "The King of Comedy", "GoodFellas", or "Casino".

He won his only Best Actor Oscar after blubbering up for one of his weaker Scorsese projects, the hugely overrated biopic of heavyweight boxer Jake LaMotta, "Raging Bull" and even their relative failures of "New York, New York", and "Cape Fear" are hardly unwatchable.

It was their first collaboration, "Mean Streets" in 1973, that showed De Niro to be an actor of incendiary, extraordinary talent. He bagged a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for "The Godfather" sequel the following year, but it's his frighteningly convincing performance as vigilante cabbie Travis Bickle in "Taxi Driver" that scarred the 70's public consciousness.

But what of De Niro today? He seems content to work with hack directors to boost his bank balance and fund the projects of his Tribeca production company. He's made a solid genre piece in "The Score", but nearly all of his upcoming films are sequels or would-be comedies. His last really interesting film was "Jackie Brown" in 1997; his last near-great film was "Heat" in 1995. He shows no signs of following up his well-received directorial debut "A Bronx Tale", and it's getting easier to forget what once made him such a mesmerising screen presence; for all the method actor bluster, he's hardly a chameleon.

But, then, neither were Cary Grant or James Stewart - two of the few tremendous actors he deserves to be bracketed with. Maybe the pictures got small. Maybe the bills got big. Whatever happens now, De Niro has done enough to be remembered as a legend.