AMERICAN GANGSTER (2007), dir. Ridley Scott

Frank Lucas (Denzel Washington) started out as the driver and doorman for Harlem mobster Ellsworth “Bumpy” Johnson, and ended up top man of New York City’s lucrative heroin industry. But “American Gangster,” which is set in the 70’s, is an American success story as much as a mob flick. Lucas gets where he does by innovating in a cutthroat business; his just happens to be in narcotics.

When the movie starts off, Frank is having a conversation with his mentor, who bemoans how the middleman has been cut out from the retail sector. Ironically, shortly after “Bumpy” passes away, Lucas will build an empire doing just that: buying directly from the supplier. Thanks to a connection in Thailand, he gets his hands on pure-grade heroin, which is far more potent than the watered-down smack being sold by the Italian mob. Soon, Frank has a stranglehold on the industry, but that doesn’t stop wannabe middlemen (led by Josh Brolin’s dirty cop) from demanding a cut before the product reaches consumers.

Plenty of business-related terms and phrases are bandied about in “American Gangster.” Lucas’ heroin, labeled “Blue Magic,” comes in a distinctive package, and when a rival hoodlum cuts it down to re-sell, leading to some overdoses, Frank accuses him of “copyright infringement.” In another scene, an Italian mobster disapproves of Frank’s monopoly on the trade, comparing it to other regulated industries. Finally, Lucas makes a fortune selling a better product for less than the competition, which is how countless American companies in other industries made their mark.

Frank even indulges in the American tradition of nepotism, moving his brothers and cousins from North Carolina to Harlem. This has mixed results, but the familial bonds allow sit-down meals to be conducted like boardroom meetings, even though Frank has to occasionally steal away to kill other gangsters in cold blood.

The movie also spends roughly half its running time with Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe), a New York detective so honest, he turns in one million dollars in unmarked bills discovered during a bust. This makes him an urban legend, but a pariah among the NYPD’s mostly corrupt narcotics officers. “If a cop turns in this kind of money, it sends a message he’s willing to turn in dirty cops,” his partner (John Ortiz) warns him.

Initially, Roberts’ personal life is spiraling downward as Lucas steadily climbs to power. On the one hand, it illustrates the two characters’ contrasting natures: Lucas may be a drug dealer, but he’s also a devoted family man who buys his mother a mansion as soon as he hits the big time. Roberts, meanwhile, cheats on his wife, has to go to court to fight for his son, is being disassociated by both his precinct and partner, and even has old buddies working in organized crime.

But personal morals and business scruples do not necessarily go hand-in-hand, and both men, the movie seems to argue, are rebelling against the same thing: the mafia and police who aid and abet the drug trade so they can shake it down for cash. In other words, the status quo that heretofore made lots of money for those atop the pyramid. Roberts’ pursuit of Lucas culminates in a face-to-face meeting between the two characters as well as mutual respect that feels genuine.

Overall, “American Gangster” is a well-made film, with the period details one expects from director Ridley Scott. The story takes place during the same time period as another famous New York City crime film, "The French Connection", but there’s less emphasis on action and more on character development. Steve Zaillian’s screenplay also makes an interesting comment on race, since even Detective Roberts takes a long time to be convinced a black man could rule the heroin trade. It’s exactly these kinds of innovations that make the movie succeed as a crime film, a drama, and maybe something a little more, too.

Overall rating: **** (out of ****)

POSTAL (2007), dir. Uwe Boll

POSTAL (2007), dir. Uwe Boll

Thank God for Dave Foley. Praise Allah for him, while you’re at it. At one point in Postal, the character he plays, a New Age cult leader and charlatan who owes over a million dollars to the Internal Revenue Service, responds to something one of his followers says with, “That’s a beautifully… retarded sentiment.”

You get the feeling this moment was improvised, and indeed, Foley spent years refining his deadpan style of delivery on the comedy series The Kids in the Hall. Just putting him in a scene results in off-the-cuff moments that feel genuinely fresh – which is a quality sorely missing from most of Uwe Boll’s would-be comedy.

Now, it may seem unfair to pick on Postal, given it was based on a video game, which rarely results in a memorable film. But according to the press notes, the game only supplied the anarchic plot and ultra-violence; it was Boll who turned it into a spoof of contemporary America touching on everything from politicians and religion to corporat culture eand mass consumerism.

Postal takes place in a mid-western city called Paradise, and revolves around Dude (Zach Ward), a much put-upon everyman who hatches a plan with his Uncle Dave (Foley) to steal a shipment of phallic-shaped “Krotchy” dolls, which are the number one toy this holiday season. Unfortunately, the toys have also been targeted by Islamic terrorists led by Osama bin Laden (Larry Thomas). They plan to use the vials of avian flu smuggled inside the dolls to bring about America’s destruction.

The movie is faithful to its video game roots as far as serving up tasteless violence, which victimizes society’s most defenseless first. Sometimes, the outrageousness and Boll’s attempts at satire meet with decent results, such as a scene inside a welfare office. After a crazed gunmen opens fire on unflinching government workers, Dude ends up crawling from corpse-to-corpse looking for a ticket so he can be next in line.

I also laughed when Boll, one of most maligned filmmakers working today, appeared as himself and confirmed one of his critics’ claims, that his movies are financed with Nazi gold. “We have to do something with all that gold,” he says.

The jokes are delivered rat-a-tat-style along the lines of Airplane. But Postal also wants to be a satire, and on that level, doesn’t succeed. The problem is Boll chooses targets that are just too obvious. Haven’t there been enough films within the past 30 years that argued people living in trailer parks have poor grooming habits, corporations are crazy, Americans love their guns, and the media relishes violence?

Granted, Postal does make a claim that religious followers are either bubble-headed dupes or out for their own selfish rewards, and that may be novel, but I didn’t think the movie did enough with that idea.

Attempting to push the envelope, Boll even has his bin Laden impersonator call up George W. Bush about insurance claims on an oil refinery, but really, how daring is making fun a widely-unpopular president?

Finally, I think Boll missed the boat by not satirizing, of all things, video games themselves. On second thought, given how joyless the action sequences are for those who can only sit by and watch, maybe he does unwittingly take a swipe at this form of entertainment, where the only catharsis is for whoever holds the controller.

Overall rating: * (out of ****)

INDIANA JONES AND THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL (2008), dir. Steven Spielberg

They’re back: Movie star Harrison Ford, director Steven Spielberg, and producer George Lucas return to their most recognizable creation. “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of Crystal Skull” represents the fourth outing of the globe-trotting archaeologist and adventurer, not to mention the first installment in nearly 20 years. This time around, both the series and its hero show their age, but even if Indy looks ready for retirement, he still has enough juice to carry this summer blockbuster past the finish line.

The movie takes place roughly 20 years after the events of “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.” The Nazis no longer pose a threat; they’ve been replaced by the Cold War and McCarthyism, and the 50’s details include atomic testing as well. The film opens with Dr. Henry Jones, Jr., better known to his friends and enemies as Indiana, having been kidnapped and brought with an old war buddy named “Mac” (Ray Winstone) to a military storage facility in New Mexico, which happens to be called Area 51.

Their kidnappers are Soviet agents led by Dr. Irina Spalko (the wonderful Cate Blanchett, sporting an impressive accent and dominatrix-inspired outfit). With Jones’ grudging help, they locate a wooden box with magnetic properties, containing a corpse that seemingly looks of extraterrestrial origin.

Naturally, Jones manages to get himself out of this tight jam, dragging the Soviets through a nighttime chase which incorporates a jet thruster prototype and a mock suburb soon to be visited by Dr. Oppenheimer’s baby boy. However, his latest brush with death also brings him under governmental suspicion of collusion with the hated Russkies; Jones loses his job as a college professor, but on his way out of town, is approached by a teenager named Mutt Williams (Shia LaBeouf), who rides a motorcycle and dresses like Marlon Brando in “The Wild Ones.”

Mutt asks for Indiana’s help locating an ancient artifact called the Crystal Skull, setting off the obligatory chills and thrills associated with the Indiana Jones franchise: elaborate chase sequences; puzzles needing deciphering; encounters with poisonous creatures and unfriendly natives; wisecracking and fist-fighting. But there are also some unexpected developments, including the return of Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen), a character last seen in “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” who as it turns out, is the kid’s mother.

Of all Indy’s past leading ladies, Marian was always the gold standard by which the others were judged. But her return means more than just placating the fan base, it fits into the overall theme of the movie, which admittedly, gets somewhat muddled in David Koepp’s finished screenplay. Just as “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” was about trying to live forever, this film is about how growing older makes you wiser on matters such as love, life, and fortune hunting. Indy’s eyes may glow a little less brightly in the face of a South American city made of gold, but he recognizes good fortune when Marian reappears, leading to one of the movie’s best lines delivered amidst a daring escape.

The movie could have used at least one more scene between Indy and Marian, not just to give her character needed depth, but to provide a break after yet another series of close calls. Overall, the breakneck speed of the film, which lacks the breath-catching moments of the series’ better installments, is one of many flaws keeping it from standing side-by-side with “Raiders of the Lost Ark” or “Last Crusade.” Another problem is the overuse of computer-generated characters, something we’ve come to expect from the movies of Lucas and Spielberg. They might have taken a more “old school” approach, but at the same time, we might not have gotten quite so scary-looking an army of carnivorous ants that way.

Finally, although lots of Soviets are killed and things get blown up real good, the action sequences don’t feel on-par with Spielberg’s work when Indy was fighting the Nazis. But how could they? Perhaps fascist Germany was more ambitious in its attempts to dominate the globe than the Russians during the Cold War, and more likely to send a few hundred troops in pursuit of absolute power. Or maybe it’s just that Spielberg, who once admitted he enjoyed turning the Nazis into cartoonish buffoons and cannon fodder, doesn’t feel as personal about this new set of playthings. Either way, the body count never reaches the giddy heights of “Raiders” or “Last Crusade,” and the offing is nowhere near as slapstick-y or funny.

But comparing “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” to “Raiders” is comparing a good film to a masterpiece. As it is, this is as good as anything likely to come out this summer. It should please viewers who grew up with the character, those who grew older watching him, even audience members who never heard of Indy – provided they can stomach some horror movie-level violence. More importantly, perhaps, it’s open-ended enough to lay the groundwork for future installments, or to give Indy the opportunity to walk off happily into the sunset.

Overall rating: *** (out of ****)

STUCK (2007), dir. Stuart Gordon

STUCK (2007), dir. Stuart Gordon

Stuck was inspired by a real-life incident in which a Ft. Worth, Texas woman struck a man with her car, and afraid of going to the police, left him in her windshield for several days.

Director Stuart Gordon and screenwriter John Strysik kept the basic premise, but turned the victim into an unfortunate soul recently fallen into homelessness. In doing so, the filmmakers elevate Stuck from suspense thriller into a commentary about society’s lack of empathy, as the film shows a multitude of characters continuously failing the main protagonist, even after their actions cause him life-threatening harm.

Stephen Rea plays Tom, a former project manager who lost his job and, at the start of the movie, has been evicted from his home. Brushed off by the State Employment Office, kicked out of a city park, he is reduced to pushing a shopping cart.

Then he runs into Brandi (Mena Suvari), or should we say, Brandi runs into him, with a car she has been driving while under the influence of ecstasy. Tom goes flying through her windshield, where his bloody, sliced-up body gets stuck. Brandi, hysterical at first, doesn’t stop driving until she reaches a hospital, and even then, decides to drive home instead. She is up for a promotion at her job, and fearful police will discover her drug use, makes the panicky decision to hide the damaged car and Tom in her garage.

At a loss for what to do, she confides in her drug-dealer boyfriend (Russell Hornsby), who unaware Tom is alive and embedded in her windshield, convinces her not to call the cops. By morning, Brandi is waiting for Tom to die from his injuries. He, however, has enough awareness to know help isn’t on the way, and starts doing whatever he can to save his own life.

Stuck works because up until a point, both characters are reacting to a terrible situation in ways the viewer can understand, even if they cannot be condoned. The movie seems to argue Brandi should face up to what she has done, if the alternative is Tom will die. Yet the viewer can also see the situation from her point of view: yes, she made a mistake driving under the influence, but what if that one indiscretion costs her promotion, maybe even her job? Should she sacrifice her life to save someone who, as far as she knows, is just some homeless man?

Brandi may choose self-preservation over taking responsibility for her actions, but the film is full of characters showing a tin ear to the troubles of others. There’s Tom’s landlord, the police, and alarmingly, the very bureaucracy which is supposed to serve as his safety net. But Brandi’s boyfriend also provides what looks like support and protection, when all he really wants is to satisfy his own selfish urges.

If Stuck provides food for thought, it still falls short of perfect, mainly because the filmmakers aim for Hitchcockian suspense, while Gordon’s sensibilities seem more along the lines of his gory cult classic Re-Animator (1985). As Tom and Brandi wage a battle of wills to see whether he gets out of the garage alive, the film gradually lapses into scenes of B-movie nuttiness: Brandi beating up a gratuitously-naked woman; a wince-inducing tug-of-war between a rambunctious Pomeranian and Tom’s… well, maybe it’s best not to say.

Luckily for audiences, Gordon and Strysik have made the players and their scenario clear by that point. The movie also benefits from good performances from its leads, including Suvari, whose eyes and face had heretofore not been considered her two chief attributes. Here she does solid work as an ordinary woman trapped in a state of denial. Yes, she flashes some skin for the camera, but that isn’t likely to be what her character is remembered for.

As for the usually reliable Rea, seemingly born with sad eyes and a hangdog face, his humanity shines through, even after his visage is half-covered in latex blood and fake cuts. Meanwhile, his facial expressions, or lack thereof, totally sell Stuck’s most harrowing sequence: Nothing to do with grievous bodily harm, just walking past homeless people camped out on a sidewalk, and not knowing if he may be joining them.

Overall rating: *** (out of ****)

THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY (2007), dir. Julian Schnabel

Here is a movie that intrigues on multiple levels: as a latter day biopic of Jean-Dominique Bauby, one-time editor of French Elle magazine; as a first-person narrative told from the perspective of an individual who has suffered a seriously-debilitating injury; and finally, as a kind of medical case study on the rehabilitation of someone who has lost most of their physical faculties.

But either way, “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” ranks among the best films of 2007, thanks to terrific performances and the directorial vision of Julian Schnabel. Screenwriter Ronald Harwood also deserves credit for adapting Bauby’s seemingly impossible-to-film memoir for the screen, and for fashioning a storytelling device effectively simulating his extraordinary condition.

In 1995, the famous, well-off, seemingly-healthy Bauby suffered a massive stroke which left his body completely paralyzed save for his left eyelid. Awakening from a coma at a hospital in Berck, France, he experiences the shock and terror of not being able to communicate with anyone. Initially, he rejects visits from his children and goes through a period of self-pity in which he requests death. But thanks to the presence of caring therapists and friends, who remind him not to let go of his humanity despite what happened, Bauby not only regains a healthy outlook on life, but composes his bestselling memoir through blinking.

Although there are plenty of movies about overcoming difficult odds, it is hard to think of one more inspiring than “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.” It probably helps that Bauby’s condition is relatively easy to sympathize with. However, Schnabel also cast the right actor in the role, as Mathieu Amalric handles both the physical difficulties of playing someone afflicted with “Locked-In syndrome,” and exudes the requisite love of life as the pre-stroke Bauby.

Depth is absolutely integral to this character, as he is never supposed to be a saint, but a man whose key relationships in life – to his former wife, current lover, and father – were complicated before the injury and remain so afterward. As the friends and loved ones who must come to terms with Bauby’s condition, the European cast assembled by Schnabel does fine work, especially Emmanuelle Seigner as the woman Bauby ditched, who still loves him, but understandably, holds a grudge.

Meanwhile, Marie-Jozee Croze and Anne Alvaro play the appropriately angelic speech and physical therapists, respectively. They guide our handicapped protagonist away from darkness without being too preachy about it.

As previously stated, the memoir “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” is said to have been difficult to adapt, mainly because so much takes place from a restricted person’s point of view. Both Harwood and Schnabel devised solutions to this problem, one of which involved letting the camera simulate Bauby’s lone working eye. As a result, there are lots of jump cuts and quick edits which emulate the eye’s capacity for rapid movement.

In addition, as the movie progresses, there are lengthy flashbacks as well as segues into Bauby’s imagination. These shifts keep the story from being monotonous to the viewer as well as reflect how the character retreats into his mind.

Finally, the film should intrigue anyone who has ever been curious of how medical professionals treat speech and communication disorders. Granted, the movie takes place in France, where medicine is socialized, and one wonders if the American health care system could provide similarly great care to someone not as wealthy as Jean-Dominique Bauby. But the point is he got the help he needed, and without the doctors and clinicians involved, there may never have been “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.” That would have been a tragedy.

Overall rating: **** (out of ****)

CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER (2006), dir. Zhang Yimou

Emperor Ping (Chow Yun-Fat) explains to his family how they are like a circle residing inside of a square, the latter of which represents his will. “Curse of the Golden Flower” shows that, despite a royal decree demanding obedience, trying to fit a round peg into a square hole threatens to tear both family and kingdom apart.

This Chinese-language film, directed by the celebrated Zhang Yimou, takes place around the year 928, as Emperor Ping returns to the imperial palace where Empress Liang (Gong Li) and two of his sons reside. The palace is a labyrinth of vibrant colors, which serve to reflect passions trapped by formality. At the beginning, it’s the sexual tension existing between the Empress and her stepson, the Crown Prince (Liu Ye); later, it will be rage and jealousy.

Adding to the court intrigue is the Empress’ mysterious anemia, which causes uncontrollable trembling throughout her body. We quickly learn that for the last ten days, the emperor has been adding a new ingredient to her medicinal tea – a cup of which she must drink every hour – slowly causing her to lose her mind.

But the Empress gets word of the scheme, and confides to her other son Prince Jai (Jay Chou), who has returned to the palace for the annual Chrysanthemum Festival, that she won’t be going without a fight. What follows are secret alliances, betrayals, some unexpected bloodshed, shots of the beautiful Gong Li looking progressively weaker, and ultimately, the attempted coup itself.

Yimou cast two legendary Chinese actors as his leads, and Yun-Fat and Li are appropriately authoritative and defiant, respectively. However, besides those two actors and the remarkable costumes, one gets the feeling the main draw is supposed to be the climactic battle sequences, which prove Asian cinema has come a long way to catching Hollywood with regards to computer-generated special effects.

Unfortunately, while productions like this can match the scale of big canvas epics like “Troy,” there’s also much of the fakery reputed to have dragged down that film. At one point, endless platoons of soldiers come pouring out of the imperial palace to launch a surprise counterattack. It’s impressive for a moment, but upon further review, defies all logic. How did anyone manage to fit this many soldiers inside without the other side noticing them, and within the short time frame the plot gives?

That single gripe is but a symptom of the larger problem with “Curse of the Golden Flower:” it's overproduced and fatally overdone. It wants to be a court drama as well as a martial arts film, but there are no thrills to be had in the intermittent wire fights, despite choreography by Siu-Tung Ching, who worked on Yimou's superior “Hero” and “House of Flying Daggers.” In fact, they seem downright derivative of “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” and Yimou's better movies.

Finally, “Curse of the Golden Flower” makes the mistake of leaning too heavily on special effects and bloody spectacle as it lurches towards the end. As Fat and Li recede into the background, the audience is left vulnerable to seemingly endless shots of eviscerations, dead extras encased in gold and silver armor, and images of flowers stained with blood. Maybe this movie should have been called “Slumming Actors, Slow-Motion Car Wreck.”

Overall rating: ** (out of ****)

IRON MAN (2008), dir. Jon Favreau

It’s hardly surprising that “Iron Man” is full of neat special effects and well-edited action sequences. After all, it has been marketed as a summer blockbuster, and with the exception of the works of Michael Bay, that’s exactly what these types of movies tend to deliver.

Yet despite its pedigree, “Iron Man” will likely stand heads above its competition this summer. The reason is because the movie, like its main character, is obsessed with being sleeker, nimbler, and more cutting-edge than the rest of the playing field. Meanwhile, for the lead role, the filmmakers shrewdly suited up one of the most talented actors working today, and were rewarded with the foundation upon which they grafted the action movie of tomorrow.

Make no mistake. Although director Favreau and the screenwriters should be credited for streamlining Iron Man’s lengthy comic book history into a feature-length film with nary an ounce of fat on it, the enterprise succeeds because of Robert Downey, Jr. Entirely believable in the role of brilliant and spoiled billionaire industrialist Tony Stark, the character starts off as a charming arms dealer nicknamed “The Angel of Death,” who through harrowing events becomes an armored vigilante.

Unlike most movies based on comic books, wherein the hero has values of compassion instilled in them by the time fate intervenes, Stark is clearly no saint, but a self-centered hedonist without any sense of responsibility. But all of that changes when terrorists attack his convoy in the Middle East, critically wounding Stark and taking him prisoner. Trapped in the mountains, kept alive by a local doctor and fellow prisoner (Shaun Toub), he has a moral revelation about the effects of the weapons built by his company, Stark Industries.

Ordered to build weapons for his captors, he instead constructs an armored suit that allows their escape. From then on, Stark dedicates his life to recovering weapons sold by Stark Industries, which under the leadership of corporate honcho Obadiah Stane (Jeff Bridges), has been double-dealing to both the U.S. military and terrorist groups abroad while keeping him in the dark.

Action movie audiences can expect high-octane thrills, especially when Stark’s updated armor leads to a confrontation with his Air Force buddy (Terrence Howard). But overall, the movie tries to balance its explosions and showdowns with a sense of humor, much of it coming at the expense of Stark as he tinkers with the suit. There’s also a love interest in the form of Stark’s freckled, long-suffering assistant “Pepper” Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow). She’s no window-dressing, however, but a competent accomplice who acclimates herself well to some pretty extraordinary circumstances.

The longstanding relationship between Stark and Potts leads to some of the movie’s funniest exchanges, made even better by Downey’s terrific sense of timing and delivery. Following Iron Man’s first adventure, she walks in as he’s being removed from his costume by his laboratory robots, who are struggling mightily. Potts stops in the doorway, aghast, there’s a silence, then Stark reassures her, “This is not the worst thing you’ve ever caught me doing.”

Thanks to Downey, we are constantly reassured this won't be one of those really bad summer movies, either.

Overall rating: ***1/2 (out of ****)

THE FRENCH CONNECTION (1971), dir. William Friedkin

The most interesting elements in the movie are the chase sequences and the lead character played by then-unknown actor Gene Hackman. But there’s also tight pacing and appropriately dingy-looking shots of 60’s/70’s era New York City, all of which add up to an entertaining cop picture.

Based on actual drug smuggling lore, the plot follows the efforts of police detectives Jimmy “Popeye” Doyle (Hackman) and “Cloudy” Russo (Roy Scheider) to nail some European criminals trying to sneak in high-grade heroin with the help of local gangsters. The film cuts back-and-forth between New York City and Paris, then the perspectives of the cops and their quarry, as the two sides continuously cross paths on their way to a major drug deal.

Friedkin, who won an Oscar for directing this film, and screenwriter Ernest Tidyman spend the first hour letting the tension build to near-unbearable levels before exploding it through a series of well-executed set pieces. But first, viewers get a feel for the Doyle character, a driven policeman with practically no personal life, and the slippery French smuggler played by Alain Charnier, who dines in fancy restaurants despite being aware of the constant police surveillance around him.

“Popeye” and the smuggler appear to be polar opposites, the refined Frenchman versus the loutish, alcoholic racist and xenophobe. At one point, Friedkin, who always seemed to know how to use depth of field effectively, stages a really neat shot illustrating the contrasts between the two characters.

In the foreground, we see “Frog One,” as Doyle comes to call him, enjoying a meal in some opulent setting. Who says crime doesn't pay? Eventually, the camera switches focus to the background, revealing the detective standing in a doorway across the street, looking cold and damp and drinking coffee so bad he tosses it after one sip.

On the plus side, once the movie hits the 70-minute mark, there's a terrific game of cat-and-mouse on a Grand Central subway platform, as well as a car/subway train chase that looks appropriately dangerous. I also credit Hackman and the filmmakers for fashioning one of the more memorable obsessed cops in cinematic history. Doyle is not some frothing-at-the-mouth maniac, but someone capable of blocking out everything in the single-minded pursuit of a goal, which actually makes him seem more normal to me, and therefore scarier.

One truly chilling moment occurs when he commits a serious blunder in the pursuit of a heroin smuggler. His partner is trying to deal with what’s happened, but Doyle just keeps repeating to him, “He’s getting away! He’s getting away!”

Finally, the movie spends a lot of time on routine police work, which by the looks of things can be dull and physically-taxing. There is a feeling these men do a job and not always an enjoyable one, but this type of portrayal gives “The French Connection” an air of authenticity which lingers even after the chase sequences provide the necessary shot of adrenaline.

Overall review: ***1/2