by Tony Dayoub
One of the great, iconic films of the 1970s, The French Connection (1971), finally makes it debut on Blu-ray this week with a little bit of controversy. But this does not change the impact the film still has today. A gritty, realistic look at all angles of a huge heroin deal by its then young film director William Friedkin, it also made a star out of its lead actor, Gene Hackman. It also went a long way towards romanticizing the seamy underbelly of New York City.
New York crime films became a staple of seventies cinema due in no small part to films like Gordon Parks' Shaft (1971) and The French Connection. Movies like Across 110th Street (1972), Serpico (1973), The Seven-Ups (1973), The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974), and Dog Day Afternoon (1975) were all subsequently inspired to employ the washed out color and grainy look of fast film stock that was so often utilized by documentarians for its flexibility in shooting in low-light situations. The jittery hand-held camera in such films signalled a "spontaneous" stolen shot and an immediacy that was rare before Friedkin's film. And the littered streets of New York's backalleys were often spotlighted, rather than glossed over, in an effort to heighten the raw intensity of the docu-inspired dramas.
New York City cops Eddie Egan (pictured, above) and Sonny Grosso had participated in just such a takedown of a heroin smuggling ring a decade earlier, with much the same outcome; the alleged kingpin got away with the crime. But it was still the largest drug arrest of its time. And Egan and Grosso were exciting personalities to base a film on. Egan was a bigoted hothead with a cagey way of throwing his perps off by interrogating them about an incident unrelated to their arrest, "Ever pick your feet in Poughkeepsie?" Grosso was a methodical cynic who helped rein his partner in. Egan harbored the ambition that actor Rod Taylor would play him in the cinematic adaptation of their story. So, as Grosso recounts in a documentary on the Blu-ray, he was very surprised when he was introduced to the mild-mannered man who would ultimately win the role of Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle (based on Egan), Gene Hackman.
As Hackman tells it, even he wasn't sure he could sell the crude facets of Egan's personality. Doyle is a cop with no personal life, save for a predilection for women that might be too young for him. He's an alcoholic, frequently waking up from a bender; in one scene, cuffed to his own bed by a young woman he picked up off the street. In a warning to his partner, Buddy "Cloudy" Russo (Roy Scheider), his deep-seated racism is more than evident: 
Doyle: You dumb guinea.
Russo: How the hell was I supposed to know he had a knife?
Doyle: Never trust a n****r.
Russo: He could have been white.
Doyle: Never trust anyone!
But he does have an instinct and drive that suits the case that falls on his lap, a drug deal involving a supplier from Marseilles, Alain Charnier (Fernando Rey). Together with his partner, he relentlessly tracks all angles of the case, even on his off-hours, to the point of obsession and exhaustion. This obsession ultimately endangers anyone - cops, innocents - that get between him and his quarry.
Hackman gives us a nuanced take on what, according to Grosso, was the emotionally one-note Egan. Rather than play the constant intensity of the type-A cop, the actor instead leavens it with a world-weariness that humanizes the driven supercop. The dynamism in his performance makes it even more chilling when Doyle is able to spring into action after an exhausting night, as a sniper tries assassinating him on his way home. This leads to a nerve-wracking chase in which Doyle drives a car recklessly in pursuit of an elevated train.
Credit Friedkin for that inspired setpiece, which he hyperbolically insists that he shot from inside the car himself, an assertion disputed by the film's cinematographer, Owen Roizman, in a recent interview with Aaron Aradillas on Back by Midnight. He also admits to daring his stunt driver, Bill Hickman, to drive the car (with only a siren on top to warn oncoming traffic) as fast as possible even though no permits were secured to close off the street for the shoot. The driven Friedkin obviously saw a kindred spirit in Egan (and the character of Doyle). The manipulative director, by his own admission, was prone to yelling at Hackman in order to keep him in a constant state of stress. The results are on the screen, though. The French Connection wound up winning Oscars for Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Director, Best Film Editing, and Best Adapted Screenplay.
While much of the controversy concerning Blu-rays of older films has to do with the elimination of grain in the film, the debate over this one is over the opposite. As Friedkin illustrates in a documentary on the disc, he has color-timed this new addition by starting with a sharper, grainier black and white base element and slowly bled in a little color. As Glenn Kenny observes in a recent posting, ironically titled What hath Friedkin wrought? , "...considerations of cinematic ethics aside, Friedkin's re-visioning of the picture really is a radical one." While I agree with him that a copy of the original iteration should have been included in the Blu-ray, especially for archival purposes in what is probably an "ultimate" edition, I am not averse to the film's new look. Essentially, the blacks are darker, the film grainier, and the color less intense, all qualities that enhance the look he was aiming for in his movie originally. And the change is nowhere near as eviscerating as what he did to The Exorcist(1973) in his "Version You've Never Seen" (2000). Great new documentaries shot with Friedkin at the original locations make this Blu-ray worth purchasing (one dedicated to Scheider, who died last year, is sorely missed), and for those wedded to the film's original look, make sure you don't throw away the original DVD.
Update 3/3: Among other things, director William Friedkin responds to Roizman's opinion on the new Blu-ray, and critic Glenn Kenny gives his take on the debate, on this week's Back by Midnight.
The French Connection and French Connection II are both available this week on Blu-ray disc.
Stills provided courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment.
In World, Ralph Burton (Harry Belafonte), some sort of civil engineer, becomes trapped in a mine shaft. Finding a way out after 5 days of waiting for help, he discovers that something has eradicated the rest of humanity during his ordeal underground. Cars are abandoned on the street. Cities have been turned into ghost towns. He decides to search for any signs of life by driving to Manhattan, the area with the highest concentration of people he can think of.
Arriving to the George Washington Bridge, he is greeted by a haunting sight - a bridge backed up with deserted automobiles - and must walk from there. Director MacDougall establishes a disquieting sense of isolation as Ralph walks through a city we are all very familiar with, even if we've never been there. Locations such as Times Square, always teeming with people, are presented here with nary a sign of activity.
Like any engineer, Ralph starts the process of working through his situation by building a home, forging a small electrical grid for lighting, and gathering supplies. He collects works of art with the idea of preserving the remnants of humanity for posterity. He sets up a short-wave radio and announces his existence to anyone that may be listening. Slowly he slips into talking to himself, then holding conversations with mannequins he's surrounded himself with, finally lashing out at one in particular for always smiling. As he throws it over his balcony and it crashes to the ground, he hears a scream. Enter the lovely Sarah Crandall (Inger Stevens).
Sarah has been following Ralph for some time, trying to deduce whether he is safe. Some of his behavior has made her nervous, but she soon realizes it is attributable to his solitude. And besides, wouldn't an engineer be the best person to have around during this kind of crisis. The two survivors grow close, and she becomes very fond of him. But Ralph's reticence to grow any closer is revealed when he is coerced into cutting her hair. He admits that, as a black man, he still can't get over the fact that if things were different, she would never even talk to him. Even though she implies she is in love with him, he can't get over that in this specific situation, he has gone from being a man of ingenuity to a subservient hair stylist grooming a white woman.
After a time, she convinces them that with society gone, society's archaic rules should be done away with as well. She wants to move in with Ralph, even if it's simply in the same apartment building. But Ralph can't let go of his mindset right away. And just as it looks he might be starting to, another variable is thrown into the dynamic. Enter Benson Thacker (Mel Ferrer).
Thacker was sailing around the world when the plague was loosed on the rest of humanity. He is starving and feverish, but Ralph and Sarah nurse him back to health, all the while conscious that the introduction of this white man means that society has been reestablished. Ralph believes that the unspoken rules concerning class and race have also returned. Sarah does not. Thacker for his part, admits that he's become attracted to Sarah, and does see Ralph as a threat. But it isn't because of his race, it is because of his youth.
Some time back, I was tagged for a meme in which I had to list 
An adaptation of C.S. Forester's novel, the movie takes place in East Africa during the early days of World War I. Rose Sayer (Katherine Hepburn) and her brother, Samuel (Robert Morley), are missionaries who depend on deliveries from good-natured drunkard, Charlie Allnut (Humphrey Bogart), and his riverboat, the African Queen. But as Africa falls to the Germans, Samuel falls ill and dies, leaving Rose alone until Allnut's next visit. Allnut and Rose decide to take a treacherous voyage on the riverboat in hopes of escaping the encroaching Germans. But first, the patriotic Rose hopes to convince Allnut to use some of the blasting gelatin his boat carries to make torpedoes that will destroy a German ship upriver, the Louisa. The ensuing journey brings romance to the unlikely couple as they face the river's travails with courage.
And what a refreshing film romance it is, between two powerhouse stars that engage both the viewer and themselves as equals. After a run through some white water rapids, the prissy Sayer is exhilarated: 
Huston's film is important in some significant ways. Like their characters, Bogart (Casablanca) and Hepburn (The Philadelphia Story) made for an unusual but effective screen couple, their incongruous acting styles contributing to the romantic chemistry. Also, it was the rare movie in those days that got to shoot on location, and Huston (The Treasure of the Sierra Madre) travelled to Africa to add authenticity to its aesthetic, an account of this being the basis for Peter Viertel's novel, White Hunter, Black Heart, and its eventual Clint Eastwood-directed 1990 film adaptation. Marking the first time either star would appear in a color film, the Technicolor cinematography is executed by the renowned Jack Cardiff (Black Narcissus).
Cardiff's photography enhances this enjoyable romp, as one can observe from even these less than stellar screen captures. Cardiff, who so effectively pushed the boundaries of color cinema in his collaborations with the Powell and Pressburger team (A Matter of Life and Death, The Red Shoes), captured the inherent dichotomy of the dark continent in his mysterious yet alluring lighting and framing design. The African Queen is amongst his most visually attractive films in a career that spans the range of film history, from silent film to today.
For Huston and Bogart, who had collaborated on some of their best films together starting with The Maltese Falcon (1941), this would be their last film together. The film would prove to be a vindication of sorts for Bogart, who was often underestimated as an actor. He would win his only Oscar for the role of Allnut, a role that had to be modified from its depiction as an Englishman, in the original novel, to a Canadian because Bogart had trouble pulling off the accent. While I'm not sure it was entirely deserved in a year where he competed against Marlon Brando (A Streetcar Named Desire), Montgomery Clift (A Place in the Sun) and Fredric March (Death of a Salesman), all arguably better performances, the role is easily Bogart's career best. Stealing the show throughout is no easy feat when acting opposite the actress with the most Oscar wins in history.
As of 2003, according to the 
