John Boorman’s superb direction on the rise and fall of Dublin gangster Martin Cahill can’t overcome problems in a script by . . . John Boorman. Outmaneuvering the police in one crime caper after another, Cahill became something of a folk hero after record-breaking heists in the ‘80s. (Around the same time, ‘Dapper’ John Gotti built similar public appeal in the States simply by being well-dressed where Cahill was slovenly.) Boorman shows some of the violence & collateral damage, but largely soft-soaps the thuggish aspects of Cahill & Co., working the underdog/Irish darling tropes with stylish WideScreen monochrome (Seamus Deasy lensed) and a shitload of good acting. Normally, Brendan Gleeson’s broad-stroke Cahill would have blown everyone else off the screen, but he gets a run for his money with the whole cast, especially Police Captain nemesis Jon Voight. (Forgotten what a great actor he can be? Not Boorman who directed him in DELIVERANCE/’72 and brought him in as a last-minute replacement.) So what goes wrong here?* It starts at the beginning, which is actually the end, with Cahill assassinated. It sure looks like an IRA thing. And is there anything audiences are more weary of than the Irish ‘troubles?’ Cahill was more likely an IRA victim. (Is the answer known?) In any event, he wouldn't play ball with them. Perhaps Boorman picked the wrong POV to tell the tale. Here, the gang who couldn’t shoot straight is the hapless/incompetent Dublin police force. The bane of Voight’s despairing Javert. It’s an off-the-beat option that might have refreshed a lot of threadbare story beats.
ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: *Well, there’s that misleading title.
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