French Connection Friday

Did I watch The French Connection on Friday, instead of Thursday or Saturday, just so I could use that alliterative post title? You bet I did!

Since I'd just watched Chinatown, and was still in the mood for that kind of style, I thought I'd watch another influential, very famous film I'd never seen.

My overarching impression of The French Connection is that it captured both some of the best and some of the worst aspects of 70's film making. My favourite thing about 70's cop films is the feel - they have this wonderfully gritty, grubby, "you are here" atmosphere, and in this, The French Connection delivers. Detectives Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle and Buddy "Cloudy" Russo (Gene Hackman and Roy Scheider) have a great on-screen rapport, and, as with most films from that decade, it's the little things that make it, like when Popeye and Cloudy are sitting around a wiretap exhausted and snickering over the mundane argument between a mobster and his wife, until they finally hear the information they need and immediately burst into cheers and a little jig of relief. The other exciting thing about this movie, for me at least, is the invitation into the world of policing at a time when surveillance was, for the most part, entirely in-person. Maybe it's just the excitement of the unknown, but I find this stuff far more interesting than today's high-tech sleuthing.

This invitation into Popeye and Cloudy's world is a common device of 70's films - they tend to say, "here's our world, would you like to be part of it?" rather than promising the audience that they will be a part of it. Unfortunately, director William Friedkin seems to have forgotten the second half of this invitation. It's not so much that The French Connection makes no effort to deliberately engage the audience - other films from the time do that, and do it very well. It's just too introspective. For example, after three months of coming up with nothing but small fish, Popeye and Cloudy are taken off their investigation, until Popeye becomes involved in a shootout with a key suspect, and in the next scene him and Cloudy are on another stakeout, clearly back on the case. Sure, the audience is technically given all the information it needs, but a connecting scene, however brief, would have made a huge impact. Another key weak spot is the lack of strong screen time for Roy Scheider. When him and Hackman are together, there's something for the audience to connect with, and they play off each other extremely well. But the story focuses too much on Popeye's need to close the case, and cuts Cloudy out of some key plot elements, such as the much-ballyhooed car chase.

Ah, the car chase. I can see why it was a big deal at the time, but I have to admit, I wasn't too excited by what amounted to a lone car following a runaway L-train (yes, you read that right). So Popeye has a rough time weaving in and out of traffic, and gets banged up some...I didn't feel any tension at all. Maybe I'm just spoiled from Ronin. But heck, if you want to be fair and talk same time frame, Bullitt's car chase, though less technically adept as it was the first to do a chase at full-speed, is far more gripping.

And it must be said, the ending of this film is extremely awkward. If you're one of those people who thought that perfect, coherent ending of No Country For Old Men was abrupt and confusing, or wrote angry emails to HBO about the series finale of The Sopranos, you're going to hate The French Connection. It just doesn't do it right.


But hey, it's an important film, and not wholly bad, and I'm glad I watched it. Plus, I think we can all find some irony in the fact that Gene Hackman played a character named Popeye. The resemblance, as you will see below, is stunning.







Am I right or am I right?