The Boondock Saints
1999
D: Troy Duffy
**********
Pros: Some Funny Dialogue, Death-to-the-Author Themes
Cons: Actual Themes, Tacky Overstylization, Musical
Choices
Among
the movies I thought were masterpieces when I was younger, The Boondock
Saints stands out. Denied a wide
release because of the Columbine Massacre (a fate which The Matrix
seemed well-funded enough to avoid), it saw runaway success in the following
years on video. There seemed to be a Horseshoe Effect of overrated movies when
I started college with this one on the right side and Donnie Darko on
the left. Indeed, it seems strange that
the protagonists’ acts of vigilantism are not just a fun fantasy, but something
actually seemingly endorsed by the
creator himself. Whereas Starship
Troopers is the movie you think is cheesy until you realize it’s a satire,
this movie is the opposite.
The
movie wastes no time introducing its two heroes as well as its attitude. Twin brothers Connor and Murphy McManus (Sean
Patrick Flanery and Norman Reedus) are attending a church, then approach the
sanctuary to kneel briefly before leaving prematurely and approving of the
priest's fiery sermon about the Bystander Effect vis-à-vis Kitty Genovese. It may be telling that the actual Catholic
church in the area refused to allow the movie to be filmed there. They then go to their job at a meat-packing
plant where one of the more manipulatively politically-incorrect jokes
occurs. They are introduced to a
stereotypical “fat angry lesbian” (Dot-Marie Jones) who eventually takes
exception to an innocent comment.
Instead of turning the other cheek, they choose to provoke her further
until she pushes one and the other punches her. The good thing about this movie is its moral
clarity.
That
night they go to a bar and are threatened by Russian mobsters. The Russians are beaten and humiliated in the
ensuing fight but track the twins to their home, forcing them to kill them in
self-defense. Getting a taste for blood,
they begin to hunt down mobsters, murderers, and rapists with the help of their
funny friend Rocco (David Della Rocco), a mob packageboy. The trio gets in multiple arguments, and their
banter is funny. That combined with the
karma they dole out could make this movie a perfectly enjoyable power fantasy
until the climax, when the offended mob boss Yakavetta (Carlo Rota) eventually
captures them and kills Rocco. From that
point on, the movie starts taking itself far too seriously. They team up with Il Duce (Billy Connolly), a
feared hitman the mob hires in desperation to fight them, when they find
out he’s their estranged father. In the
final scene they invade a courtroom and murder Yakavetta while sending a
warning to anyone who might think to commit violent crimes in the future. The movie momentarily teases a far more
interesting premise of widespread Russian/Italian mob war as a police theory to
what’s happening.
The
scene, if one were to acknowledge Duffy’s apparent endorsement of the Saints,
is remarkably tone-deaf in its execution.
The low angle-shots, ominous music, and unhinged rants of the heroes
invoke fear and discomfort in their actions.
In fact, if one were to take the movie at face value, it would seem like
a subversive indictment of vigilantism.
At first its depicted as fun, then disturbing once the stakes are truly
revealed as well as its corrupting influence.
Even the brothers’ prayer seems like a call for evangelization
misinterpreted as a creepy endorsement of human sacrifice. The pretentious street interview scene for
the end credits further takes you out of the movie’s universe to the point
where it can’t be interpreted as escapism.
Attempting to track down the brothers is FBI
Special Agent Paul Smecker (Willem Dafoe), a flamboyant and lovably snarky
hero. Unfortunately this amusing
character is a classic example of an ignorant filmmaker’s idea of a great
detective. He has odd quirks, like
listening to classical music while he’s investigating a crime scene, and he
acts needlessly arrogant toward the local detectives. He singles out a particularly oblivious one
named Greenly (Bob Marley) while the other two (David Ferry and Brian Mahoney)
passively enjoy it because less heat is
on them, a classic bully dynamic. At one
point Greenly points out that it will be difficult to find thetwo brothers after their first self-defense kill while they coincidentally
enter to turn themselves in, and we’re supposed to think this is an indictment
of this intelligence. Smecker’s forced
superiority is conveyed to an absurd degree in one scene in which he needs to
explain to a forensic scientist that ammonia can destroy DNA samples.
Smecker
is also revealed to be a homosexual, albeit a relatively self-loathing
one. And while he’s depicted as a
badass, he’s unraveled by the case.
That’s right, the expert FBI agent, who’s probably dealt with child
predators and even listened to the Bittaker/Norris tape for training is getting
freaked out that the case about bumping off wise guys is taking a bit longer to crack than expected. He eventually breaks
down and helps the brothers commit acts of vigilantism (partially influenced by
a priest in a confessional who’s under obvious duress). In the alternative interpretation of this
movie, it makes him seem like a weakling who’s easily manipulated. Even if one were to salvage the movie’s
themes, the clumsy attempt at a not-all-gays depiction of a gay man is still
homophobic.
Troy
Duffy’s status as a Tarantino-wannabe is reinforced by his tacky stylistic
choices. Ron Jeremy’s presence in the
movie is probably just manufactured edge of some kind. Climactic scenes are set to bland rock riffs,
for example. At one point he complains
about his inability to obtain rights for a Led Zeppelin song and having to
settle for something mediocre; apparently it never occurred to him to just not
set the scene to a rock song. Some
forced examples of flare can be seen as well, such as Yakavetta’s blind,
bathroom-cleaning former mob boss. Even
a decidedly contemptible hitman has to handle his silenced pistols like a video
game character while killing an unsuspecting family. TIl Duce as a
superhuman assassin whose skills at combat overwhelms the three vigilantes and
makes Smecker think he’s a whole squad of men. His brilliant tactic was sidestepping in the open while shooting two pistols. One of the
cleverer flourishes is Smecker’s explanations of how the Saints executed each
killing. The build-up to the act usually
cuts to the post hoc investigation. When
Smecker explains his theory the events are reenacted with his observing. Unfortunately, it results in the most
pretentiously melodramatic moment in the film, in which he internally overreacts to the fact that there was a firefight.
The
movie is rather flawed, even with an alternate interpretation. Its saving grace is its humor, even if it is
a bit mean-spirited at times (such as Rocco’s cruelly rubbing his accidental
killing of his girlfriend’s cat in her face as he breaks up with her). Its confused nature reflects the insecurity of
the man who made it, as shown in the 2003 documentary Overnight. That film also reveals the extreme pettiness
of Harvey Weinstein, who made a point of sabotaging the movie’s release. It’s an entertaining movie, though I’ve heard
nothing good about the sequel.
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