18 Days of Paranoia #8: The French Connection II (dir by John Frankenheimer)

Posted on March 21, 2020 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 1975 film, The French Connection II, opens up three years after the downbeat conclusion of the first French Connection.

Having escaped from the police at the end of the first film, the wealthy and suave Alain Charnier (Fernando Rey) is still smuggling drugs and living his best life. He goes to parties with wealthy people. He has lunch dates with important businessman. Even though the French police are keeping an eye on him, Charnier seems to be virtually untouchable and he knows it. If Charnier seemed impossibly smug in the first French Connection, he’s even worse in the second one.

Charnier may be enjoying himself in Marseille but what he doesn’t know is that there’s an American tourist in town. He’s a very loud American, one who insists on trying to speak to everyone in English and is shocked to discover that most of the French natives don’t have the slightest clue as to what he’s talking about. He’s shocked when he goes into a bar and fails to impress two young French women. He also doesn’t seem to understand that even French people who speak English are not going to appreciate being called a “frogs.” He wanders around town in loud shirts and with a fedora sitting rakishly on his balding head.

Yep, it’s Popeye Doyle (Gene Hackman). The anti-hero from the first French Connection is still on the case and he’s now come all the way to France to help track down Charnier. The last time we saw Doyle, he had just accidentally killed a cop and was running through a dark warehouse, firing his gun. In fact, the first film ended with the suggestion that Doyle was such a loose cannon that his career as a narcotics detective was probably over. Instead, in the sequel, we learn that Popeye is still working in narcotics and he’s still just as much of a loose cannon as he ever was. If you thought people in New York found Popeye to be obnoxious, just you wait to see how the French react to him!

What Popeye doesn’t know is that his superiors in New York have only sent him to Marsielle so that he can be a target. They know that Popeye will never be able to blend in. Charnier will spot him and, hopefully, Charnier will panic and make some sort of mistake that will finally allow the police to capture him. French detective Henri (Bernard Fresson) goes along with the plan, despite his own moral objections. Henri can’t stand Popeye but he doesn’t want to see him killed either.

It doesn’t take long for Charnier to notice Popeye. After Popeye is captured by Charnier’s man, they inject him with heroin until soon, Popeye is an addict. Before Popeye can finally get his shot at Charnier, he’s going to have to overcome his own drug addiction….

The French Connection II starts out well, with Gene Hackman wandering around Marsielle and acting like a stereotypical ugly American. Director John Frankenheimer does a good job of keeping the action moving at a steady pace during the first half of the film and there’s a lot of great scenes involving Popeye being followed around town by not just the police but also Charnier’s men. The first half of the film does a great job of establishing an atmosphere of paranoia, which is not surprising when you consider that Frankenheimer’s other credits included The Manchurian Candidate, Seven Days In May, and Seconds.

Unfortunately, once Popeye is captured and gets hooked on heroin, the action not only comes to a halt but the normally reliable Gene Hackman starts to act up a storm. When Popeye, while going through withdrawal, starts talking about how he used to play baseball and how he once has a try-out with the New York Yankees, the scene seems to go on forever and Hackman’s performance becomes so histrionic that you basically just end up feeling like you’re watching someone auditioning his heart out for a spot in the Actor’s Studio. Gene Hackman was one of the world’s great actors and Popeye Doyle was a great role but, in The French Connection II, we’re reminded that even a great actor occasionally needs to have his performance reined in.

Eventually, after Hackman’s had his big Oscar moment, the action kicks back in and the film kind of regains its momentum. There’s a big action scene towards the end of the film. (Ironically, it’s the type of big, good guys vs. bad guys shoot out that the first film deliberately avoided.) The film ends with a literal bang that’s abrupt yet undeniably effective.

As far as sequels go, The French Connection II is good. It’s not great and, not surprisingly, it doesn’t come anywhere close to matching the power of the first film. But it still has enough effective scenes to make it worth watching. You just might want to hit fast forward whenever Popeye starts talking about baseball…..

Other Entries In The 18 Days Of Paranoia:

Lisa Watches An Oscar Nominee: Separate Tables (dir by Delbert Mann)

Posted on June 1, 2017 by Lisa Marie Bowman

As some of you may know, I have been on a mission for a while now. My goal is to see and review every single film that has been nominated for best picture by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. (Of course, with the 1928 nominee, The Patriot, being a lost film, that may seem like an impossible mission. No matter! For me, nothing is impossible. What Lisa wants, Lisa gets.) For that reason, I spent part of last night watching the 1958 best picture nominee, Separate Tables, on TCM.

Separate Tables is one of the more forgotten of the best picture nominees but then again, the 50s were not the greatest decade as far as the Academy was concerned. Consider some of the other films released in 1958: Big Deal on Madonna Street, High School Confidential, Indiscreet, The Last Hurrah, Machine-Gun Kelly, The Fly, The Blob, The Horror of Dracula, The Revenge of Frankenstein, Some Came Running, Thunder Road, A Touch Of Evil, and Vertigo! The thing they all have in common is that none of them were nominated for best picture but Separate Tables was.

That’s not to say that Separate Tables was, in any way, a bad film. Actually, it’s a pretty good film and I’m glad that I watched it. It’s not bad at all. However, it is … what’s the right term to use here? Stately perhaps? Maybe stagey. Separate Tables is based on two one-act plays and, though it’s obvious that some effort was made to open up the material, it still feels undeniably stage-bound. Separate Tables was directed by Delbert Mann, who had previously won an Oscar for his lively direction of Marty. With Separate Tables, his direction is far less lively. Watching it, you get the feeling that he was not only straight-jacketed by the theatrical origins of the material but also by the fact that the film was clearly made to win Academy Awards.

So, ignore the direction and pay attention to the performances. Separate Tables works best as a tribute to good acting. The film follows the lives of several guests at an English seaside hotel. Some people are just staying for a few days. Some people live at the hotel. John Malcolm (Burt Lancaster) is a moody writer, a recovering alcoholic who is planning on asking the hotel’s manager, the level-headed Pat Cooper (Wendy Hiller), to marry him. Of course, then his ex-wife, Anne (Rita Hayworth), shows up. As quickly becomes obvious, John and Anne may hate each other but they also love each other. Neither one is particularly sympathetic but, in their scenes together, Lancaster and Hayworth do create a fascinating portrait of mutual self-destruction. Ultimately, you’re left with the impression that both of them are so self-destructive that they belong together, if just to keep from drawing anyone else into their messed up orbit.

And then there’s Major Pollock (David Niven). David Niven won the Oscar for Best Actor for his role as Major Pollock and he does give an excellent performance. Major Pollock is one of those roles that often seems to attract comedic actors looking for a chance to prove their dramatic abilities. When he first appears, he seems to be a bit of a joke but then, as the film progresses, we learn that he’s actually struggling with his own demons. In the case of Major Pollock, those demons are more hinted at than defined. As we learn at the start of the film, Pollock was convicted of “harassing” several “young women” at a movie theater. Separate Tables does not make clear how young or, for that matter, the exact details of the harassment. Some residents of the hotel want Major Pollock to be kicked out of the hotel. Some residents say that it is none of their business and that everyone deserves a second chance. John Malcolm is in the latter group, though he’s more concerned with his ex-wife than with the scandalous Major (who, to no one’s great surprise, isn’t actually a major and whose war stories have all largely been lies). Also seeking to defend Major Pollock is the shy Sibyl (Deborah Kerr, playing against type). Sibyl’s mother (Gladys Cooper) is among those most determined to exile Pollock.

And really, the only reason this plotline works is because of the performances of Niven and Kerr. As written, it’s way too vague about the exact details of what it was that Pollock did. We’re just told that he was caught “behaving immorally.” (According to Wikipedia, Pollock was originally written as being gay but, apparently, that was considered to be too controversial for 1958, hence the mention that Pollock’s crime involved “young women.”) But Niven gives such a soulful and wounded performance that, much like Sibyl, you want to believe the best about him. You want to give him a second chance, even though you know he’s going to let you down. As Major Pollock, David Niven uses his trademark charm to paint a portrait of a man who is painfully aware that he has little to offer beyond charm.

At the same time, I was surprised by how little screen time Niven actually had in Separate Tables. The majority of the film is taken up with Lancaster and Hayworth. Niven definitely deserved some consideration for best supporting actor but best actor? Not in the year that saw Orson Welles in Touch of Evil and James Stewart in Vertigo.

Separate Tables is not a great film, at least not in the way that we might wish that a film nominated for best picture would be. It’s way too stagey and vague. But, with all that in mind, it’s still wonderfully acted and always watchable. It may not be great but it is very, very good.

Separate Tables was nominated for best picture but lost to Gigi.

Horror on the Lens: Full Circle (dir by Richard Loncraine)

Posted on October 17, 2014 by Lisa Marie Bowman

For today’s horror on the lens,we have a film from 1977. I recently watched this film very late at night and — OH MY GOD! Seriously, I had nightmares for two nights straight!

Full Circle opens with the horrifying death of Kate (Sophie Ward), the daughter of Julia (Mia Farrow) and Magnus (Keir Dullea). After Kate’s death, Julia and Magnus divorce and Julia moves into a new house. However, she is haunted by visions of a little girl who looks just like Kate. As well, the house is full of odd noises, creepy toys, and appliances that turn on by themselves. Is Julia seeing the ghost of her daughter or something far more dangerous?

Full Circle is a truly haunting and disturbing haunted house film. Mia Farrow gives a great performance as Julia and the entire film is dominated by a palpable atmosphere of dread. And that final scene — AGCK!