The French Connection
Directed by Willaim Friedkin
Thirty-six years after The French Connection stormed cinemas as exemplary action storytelling, its original resonance has dwindled. That’s an observation of the expectations caused by contemporary blockbusters, not a critique of individual efficaciousness; on its own terms, the movie has aged quite well. The penultimate chase scene, during which Gene Hackman speeds down Brooklyn’s Stillwell Avenue in dedicated pursuit of a sniper riding the B train, conveys pure, streamlined exhilaration. The sequence benefits from the minimalism of its execution. Nothing is staged, particularly not the unplanned crash or its impact. You never see the strings controlling this monstrous expression of speed. There are no miniatures or two dimensional rear projections to break the illusion.
Watching the scene now, when big screen spectacles usually do the bidding of a keyboard and mouse, offers a reminder that nobody bothers to get their hands this dirty for sake of entertainment since green screens provide a canvas to shape reality. These days, it’s safe to make things look dangerous.
Because the stunning centerpiece looks like an extravagant feat of guerilla filmmaking, The French Connection feels new again. Its depiction of an unsavory justice system grappling with classicism and pervasive corruption was overshadowed by the action, but as a skillful portrait of urban strife, it made a compelling case for rough-edged lawmen. Hackman plays a coarse detective intent on uncovering a sprawling drug ring bound to the tutelage of Parisian high roller “Frog One” (Fernando Rey), while Hackman’s comparatively meek partner (a pre-Jaws Roy Scheider) trots in the path of his devout colleague. The cops converse in fast gasps of information as the plot hurtles forward, but their casual observations redeem the movie’s supposedly empty tough guy appeal with hints at a backwards humanism guiding their battle. “Never trust a nigger,” snipes Scheider after the duo’s latest criminal encounter. Hackman corrects him: “Never trust anyone.”
Running in a fresh print this week at Film Forum, The French Connection is the ideal selection to close the theater’s extensive five week “NYC Noir” series. The movie’s depiction of New York’s distinct ferocity is complete, surpassing the sugary fantasies that preceded it. Beyond that, much of the frustration endured by Hackman’s character when Frog One evades capture makes The French Connection more modern than before—and, yep, it’s a post-9/11 thing. The officer’s near-slapstick pursuit of Frog One as the two men hop in and out of a departing subway car recalls our joint perception of America’s slippery war on terror. This is less happenstance than a testament to the scene’s universal insight into the intangible nature of evil.
In the wake of its acclaim, Pauline Kael deemed The French Connection “what we once feared mass entertainment might become: jolts for jocks.” True, but as the rest of equation comes into view, the message behind those jolts has grown retroactively enlightening. The movie’s original tagline heralded “an out and out thriller,” but now it’s the sort of thriller that rarely gets in: a smart one.
Directed by Willaim Friedkin
Thirty-six years after The French Connection stormed cinemas as exemplary action storytelling, its original resonance has dwindled. That’s an observation of the expectations caused by contemporary blockbusters, not a critique of individual efficaciousness; on its own terms, the movie has aged quite well. The penultimate chase scene, during which Gene Hackman speeds down Brooklyn’s Stillwell Avenue in dedicated pursuit of a sniper riding the B train, conveys pure, streamlined exhilaration. The sequence benefits from the minimalism of its execution. Nothing is staged, particularly not the unplanned crash or its impact. You never see the strings controlling this monstrous expression of speed. There are no miniatures or two dimensional rear projections to break the illusion.
Watching the scene now, when big screen spectacles usually do the bidding of a keyboard and mouse, offers a reminder that nobody bothers to get their hands this dirty for sake of entertainment since green screens provide a canvas to shape reality. These days, it’s safe to make things look dangerous.
Because the stunning centerpiece looks like an extravagant feat of guerilla filmmaking, The French Connection feels new again. Its depiction of an unsavory justice system grappling with classicism and pervasive corruption was overshadowed by the action, but as a skillful portrait of urban strife, it made a compelling case for rough-edged lawmen. Hackman plays a coarse detective intent on uncovering a sprawling drug ring bound to the tutelage of Parisian high roller “Frog One” (Fernando Rey), while Hackman’s comparatively meek partner (a pre-Jaws Roy Scheider) trots in the path of his devout colleague. The cops converse in fast gasps of information as the plot hurtles forward, but their casual observations redeem the movie’s supposedly empty tough guy appeal with hints at a backwards humanism guiding their battle. “Never trust a nigger,” snipes Scheider after the duo’s latest criminal encounter. Hackman corrects him: “Never trust anyone.”
Running in a fresh print this week at Film Forum, The French Connection is the ideal selection to close the theater’s extensive five week “NYC Noir” series. The movie’s depiction of New York’s distinct ferocity is complete, surpassing the sugary fantasies that preceded it. Beyond that, much of the frustration endured by Hackman’s character when Frog One evades capture makes The French Connection more modern than before—and, yep, it’s a post-9/11 thing. The officer’s near-slapstick pursuit of Frog One as the two men hop in and out of a departing subway car recalls our joint perception of America’s slippery war on terror. This is less happenstance than a testament to the scene’s universal insight into the intangible nature of evil.
In the wake of its acclaim, Pauline Kael deemed The French Connection “what we once feared mass entertainment might become: jolts for jocks.” True, but as the rest of equation comes into view, the message behind those jolts has grown retroactively enlightening. The movie’s original tagline heralded “an out and out thriller,” but now it’s the sort of thriller that rarely gets in: a smart one.
