No other thriller has ever matched the quality and originality of "The French Connection", one of the most heart-pounding realistic cop movies that ever enriched the silver screen. Only in the early 70's, such a masterpiece could have been made, at the creative pinnacle of Hollywood's New Wave that brought a new fresh air in American cinema, an air made of politically incorrect excitement and gripping realism. A masterpiece of realism indeed, whose heart and soul rely on one of the most unforgettable cinematic antiheroes, Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle, superbly played by Gene Hackman.
It's not even a performance, Gene Hackman is simply natural as Doyle, aka "Popeye", he embodies the rousing realism of the film which thanks to William Friedkin's accurate and methodic directing, makes it the equivalent of Zola's naturalism in literature. This naturalism gives an incredible documentary feeling that strangely provided better thrills than an exaggerated cinematic dramatization. The protagonists in this film are New York City cops from the Narcotic Bureau, but they're also friends and colleagues, making crude jokes, drinking, eating, and interacting more than acting. They're not even characters since everything feels so real only one fear kept my mind a little anxious: that at one point, something ruins this desensitized boldness. Thankfully, it didn't and from beginning to end, "The French Connection" combined the excitement of a cat-and-mouse thriller and the realism of a fascinating character study.
These two elements are the fundamentals on which relies the excitement, working in total complementarity: never there is a moment in the film where it tries to focus only on "Popeye", or where the chase doesn't highlight a new aspect of his personality. Everything goes so fast anyway, there's not enough time to focus on other characters, they're not underdeveloped but "The French Connection" IS Doyle. His strong feeling that there's a foreign drug smuggling operation going on, confirmed with the scenes featuring the French antagonists, is a proof that he's got the competence AND the instinct. We know he's not just charismatic, he's also right.
And the chase that starts at the bottom of the gang (when from a simple intuition, they followed Sal Boca) has the suspenseful excitement of a chess game, where we just wait for the moment they'll finally meet the King, the mastermind, Alain Charnier aka Frog One, in a great performance, all in nuance, by Bunuel's fetish actor: Fernando Rey. Indeed, it's like a chess game where the King is protected by the 'bishop', Pierre Nicoli, the hit-man, the real villain of the film, whose killing becomes almost a subplot. A subplot that will contribute to one of the most thrilling car chases ever . And whenever I watch this sequence, I realize how this must have been an excitement at the time of its release, in the theaters. There's something almost personal in that chase, driven by the first killing of the mother with the baby carriage, starting with a shocking death to end on a more satisfying one, the iconic killing in the stairs. The hit-man looks so helpless; it's like a cold-blooded murder. But we're definitely on "Popeye's" side at this point, and the case became personal.
This empathy to "Popeye" is driven by the character study which makes us follow step by step (in the true meaning of the word) his investigation. We see him efficiently handling an interrogatory with his classic "Have you ever picked your feet in Poughkeepsie?", harassing the drug smugglers in an almost entertaining way, with his inseparable pork-pie hat, getting news from his informer etc. He's just so dedicated and competent in his job that his private life, in contrast, is less appealing, totally diluted in sex rides with one-shot girls met in the corner of a street or accidental sleeping in a bar Only, in the exercise of his duty, "Popeye" is like a fish in water, charismatic, powerful, outside he's no better than the people he chases. There's even a strange contrast between him and Charnier, sophisticated, distinguished ... here is a sleazy cop against big shots. When Charnier and the hit-man are in a restaurant, savoring a good wine, a delicious food and a tasty dessert, "Popeye" freezes his ass waiting for his partner Russo to bring him a slice of pizza, honorable mention to the late Roy Sheider in a great supporting performance. The film revealed the cops' underworld like "The Godfather" did for gangsters, but from the cops' perspective with Doyle in an extraordinary portrayal of an ordinary cop dedicated to his job. He's the Michael Corleone of the film and like him, his dedication to his duty will ultimately alienate him.
"Popeye's" alienation is foreseen in the early scenes, where he's so convinced he's right, we share his perseverance, as we share his frustration when he loses the track of Charnier, waving bye-bye to him, in the memorable subway scene. We want him to shut the mouth of his colleague who can't stop reminding him that he already screwed up before, but we're so with "Popeye" that we never suspect that he could fail, we want him to get the baddies and the scene of the car crash reminds us that drug is no play or no fun. He's the law, he's here to protect the good citizens, he must win. That's why we share of course, his satisfaction where he owns Charnier, by waving back to him in the memorable climax. And after the shootout, where the game seems over, the last minute of the film leaves us stunned, wondering is this the guy we cheered for. "Popeye" screwed again, victim of his persistence, of himself, killing the very colleague who warned him
A shocking ending incarnated by the last scary gunshot, which makes Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle, one of the most unforgettable cinematic antiheroes, and "The French Connection" a milestone never equaled
It's not even a performance, Gene Hackman is simply natural as Doyle, aka "Popeye", he embodies the rousing realism of the film which thanks to William Friedkin's accurate and methodic directing, makes it the equivalent of Zola's naturalism in literature. This naturalism gives an incredible documentary feeling that strangely provided better thrills than an exaggerated cinematic dramatization. The protagonists in this film are New York City cops from the Narcotic Bureau, but they're also friends and colleagues, making crude jokes, drinking, eating, and interacting more than acting. They're not even characters since everything feels so real only one fear kept my mind a little anxious: that at one point, something ruins this desensitized boldness. Thankfully, it didn't and from beginning to end, "The French Connection" combined the excitement of a cat-and-mouse thriller and the realism of a fascinating character study.
These two elements are the fundamentals on which relies the excitement, working in total complementarity: never there is a moment in the film where it tries to focus only on "Popeye", or where the chase doesn't highlight a new aspect of his personality. Everything goes so fast anyway, there's not enough time to focus on other characters, they're not underdeveloped but "The French Connection" IS Doyle. His strong feeling that there's a foreign drug smuggling operation going on, confirmed with the scenes featuring the French antagonists, is a proof that he's got the competence AND the instinct. We know he's not just charismatic, he's also right.
And the chase that starts at the bottom of the gang (when from a simple intuition, they followed Sal Boca) has the suspenseful excitement of a chess game, where we just wait for the moment they'll finally meet the King, the mastermind, Alain Charnier aka Frog One, in a great performance, all in nuance, by Bunuel's fetish actor: Fernando Rey. Indeed, it's like a chess game where the King is protected by the 'bishop', Pierre Nicoli, the hit-man, the real villain of the film, whose killing becomes almost a subplot. A subplot that will contribute to one of the most thrilling car chases ever . And whenever I watch this sequence, I realize how this must have been an excitement at the time of its release, in the theaters. There's something almost personal in that chase, driven by the first killing of the mother with the baby carriage, starting with a shocking death to end on a more satisfying one, the iconic killing in the stairs. The hit-man looks so helpless; it's like a cold-blooded murder. But we're definitely on "Popeye's" side at this point, and the case became personal.
This empathy to "Popeye" is driven by the character study which makes us follow step by step (in the true meaning of the word) his investigation. We see him efficiently handling an interrogatory with his classic "Have you ever picked your feet in Poughkeepsie?", harassing the drug smugglers in an almost entertaining way, with his inseparable pork-pie hat, getting news from his informer etc. He's just so dedicated and competent in his job that his private life, in contrast, is less appealing, totally diluted in sex rides with one-shot girls met in the corner of a street or accidental sleeping in a bar Only, in the exercise of his duty, "Popeye" is like a fish in water, charismatic, powerful, outside he's no better than the people he chases. There's even a strange contrast between him and Charnier, sophisticated, distinguished ... here is a sleazy cop against big shots. When Charnier and the hit-man are in a restaurant, savoring a good wine, a delicious food and a tasty dessert, "Popeye" freezes his ass waiting for his partner Russo to bring him a slice of pizza, honorable mention to the late Roy Sheider in a great supporting performance. The film revealed the cops' underworld like "The Godfather" did for gangsters, but from the cops' perspective with Doyle in an extraordinary portrayal of an ordinary cop dedicated to his job. He's the Michael Corleone of the film and like him, his dedication to his duty will ultimately alienate him.
"Popeye's" alienation is foreseen in the early scenes, where he's so convinced he's right, we share his perseverance, as we share his frustration when he loses the track of Charnier, waving bye-bye to him, in the memorable subway scene. We want him to shut the mouth of his colleague who can't stop reminding him that he already screwed up before, but we're so with "Popeye" that we never suspect that he could fail, we want him to get the baddies and the scene of the car crash reminds us that drug is no play or no fun. He's the law, he's here to protect the good citizens, he must win. That's why we share of course, his satisfaction where he owns Charnier, by waving back to him in the memorable climax. And after the shootout, where the game seems over, the last minute of the film leaves us stunned, wondering is this the guy we cheered for. "Popeye" screwed again, victim of his persistence, of himself, killing the very colleague who warned him
A shocking ending incarnated by the last scary gunshot, which makes Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle, one of the most unforgettable cinematic antiheroes, and "The French Connection" a milestone never equaled