Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 9-February-03
Spoiler Rating: Medium

The French Connection (1971)

While compiling the Archives last week, I noticed that I have been neglecting the 1970s, despite the fact that this decade is widely considered the golden age of American cinema. The truth is, most of the classic '70s films I have seen --- like "The Godfather," "Chinatown," and "Taxi Driver" --- have left me cold. And this is largely because they are cold, turning an almost fetishistic eye on cynical, violent, and twisted people in a cynical, violent, and twisted world. The appeal of these themes is usually lost on me.

It was a pleasant surprise, therefore, to find myself enjoying "The French Connection," a movie which helped set the tone for filmmaking in the 1970s after it cleaned up at the Oscars, winning Best Picture, Best Actor, and Best Director. Like other movies which followed closely on its heels, "The French Connection" is about cops and thugs in a harsh urban environment, but it has a matter-of-fact crispness which suits the subject matter better than the reverential and sometimes operatic tone of someone like Martin Scorsese. Director William Friedkin's gritty style isn't entirely lacking in flair, but instead of asking the viewer to drool over the coolness of amoral and jaded men, he basically lays a crime story on the table and says "here is something that I find interesting; you can take it or leave it." The result is a snappy picture that doesn't carry much intellectual or emotional weight, but remains entertaining throughout.

"The French Connection" is most remembered for its famous car-subway train chase scene (which is very good), but in effect the whole movie is one long chase scene. The action begins in Marseilles with suave, shady businessman Alain Charnier (Fernando Rey) and then moves to Brooklyn, where hard boiled and hard living cop Popeye Doyle (Gene Hackman) and his trusty partner Buddy (Roy Scheider) stumble upon the suspicious activity of a two-bit criminal named Sal Boca (Tony Lo Bianco). Pursuing Doyle's hunch that something big is brewing, the men take to tailing Boca and wire-tapping his store, which leads them to the discovery of a major drug deal with Monsieur Charnier, who has just arrived from France with two associates. The movie painstakingly details the long periods of waiting and sudden bursts of violent activity that make up the work of policemen, and the necessary cunning and ruthlessness of those who would elude them. It's really a game of will and determination, as Doyle and his team pursue Charnier and his henchmen through the sidewalks and subway stations, restaurants and hotels, and back alleys and abandoned buildings of New York.

The film is most concerned with the mechanics of the drug deal and the action surrounding it, but the characters are given just enough flesh by both the script and actors to make their motivations palpable. Gene Hackman's delightfully natural performance keeps Popeye Doyle from shading into the kind of ultracool anti-hero we've come to expect from Hollywood tough guys; sure, he's wild, haunted, and rather sexy (in part due to the fabulous jackets he wears), but he's also fallible, with a touch of loser about him that prevents his glorification. He generates interest not by being flashy or brilliant, but by doggedly pursuing the rather ungratifying career for which he was clearly destined. To illustrate this point, Friedkin allows himself a rare witty flourish in a great scene where Doyle is huddled outside in the cold, subsisting on pizza and sour coffee, while his prey enjoys a gourmet meal in the warmth and luxury of a four-star restaurant. It's scenes like this that make "The French Connection" connect as other movies of its era do not: the filmmakers are fascinated by the plot and characters in their bare-boned essence, not the social, moral, or philosophical conclusions that can be drawn when crime and brutality are elevated into the realm of art.

Copyright © 2003 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.