The General [DVD] [1998]

The home of director John Boorman was one robbed by Martin Cahill, whostole, among other things, the gold record from Boorman's wall for"Dueling Banjos," the hit single from his film "Deliverance." That sceneis included in Boorman's 1998 film "The General," along with Cahill'sdisgust at learning gold records are not made of gold, and helps toestablish the idea that Cahill is an engaging rogue. Most of thatparticular task is accomplished by Brendan Gleason, who creates such alikeable character that when he nails one of his men to a snooker table toforce a confession, we are inclined to overlook the act of violence.
I checked out "The General" after watching "Veronica Guerin," in whichCahill's murder is an early scene. Ironically, both films begin the sameway, with the death of the title character. We then go back to the pointin their lives where the filmmaker begins to explain how they came to sucha violent end. Cahill starts off stealing potatoes and promising youngFrances that he will never be caught. Having been forced to break thispromise once he grows up to be man who plans on avoiding returning toprison by planning his robberies with such care than he is nicknamed "TheGeneral." But he also has a great sense of flair, which he demonstrateswhen his wife and mistress, who happen to be sisters, persuade him to buya house for 80,000 pounds. Then there is his habit of always wearing ahood or having his hand in front of his face in public so that his picturecan never be taken.
The Dublin police play into making Cahill look good by sinking to hislevel and well below. There is also the clear implication at the start ofthe film that there were complicit in Cahill's murder, although more by anact of omission than commission. So when the police put first Cahill andthen his gang under 24-hour surveillance, we enjoy it as he finds a seriesof ways to get the better of them, with relative ease. In the end, it isnot his dealings with the police, but rather his disdain for the IRA thatis going to get him killed.
Jon Voight plays Ned Kenny, the cop turned inspector who is supposed to beCahill's nemesis, but who does not really get to do enough to even be amodel of futility in his pursuit of the criminal and his gang. AdrianDunbar as Noel Curley and Sean McGiley as Gary are Cahill's chief henchmenand it was a treat to see two-thirds of the backup singers from "TheCommittments" showing up in this film, with Maria Doyle Kennedy as Francesand a black tressed Angeline Ball as Tina.
I keep seeing comparisons between Cahill and Robin Hood, followed by aninevitable caveat that Cahill took from the rich and kept it for himself,but I think that misses the mark. Cahill is more in the mode of JesseJames, who also enjoyed popular support in his community without alwaysspreading around the wealth. The American outlaw also had more of aviolent streak, even in the popular folklore about his robberies, than theoutlaw of Sherwood Forest. Consequently I see the Robin Hood analogy asanother attempt to make Cahill look better than he was, which Boorman'sfilm has absolutely no trouble doing. In the end, "The General" isneither a celebration of Cahill's life nor a warning about the path to beavoided, but a look at a captivating rogue, which is always an interestingjourney.

John Boorman's 1998 The General was hailed as a major comeback, though it's hard to see why on the evidence of the film itself. One of three films made that year about famed Dublin criminal Martin Cahill (alongside Ordinary Decent Criminal and Vicious Circles), it has an abundance of incident and style (the film was shot in color but released in b&w Scope in some territories) but makes absolutely no impact and just goes on forever. With a main character who threatens witnesses, car bombs doctors, causes a hundred people to lose their jobs, tries to buy off the sexually abused daughter of one of his gang to keep out of jail and nails one of his own to a snooker table yet still remains a popular local legend and an attractive enough personality for his wife to not only approve but actually suggest a ménage a trios with her sister, it needs a charismatic central performance to sell the character and the film. It doesn't get it. Instead, it's lumbered with what may well be Brendan Gleeson's worst and most disinterested performance: he delivers his lines and stands in the right place but there's nothing to suggest either a local hero or the inner workings of a complex character. On the plus side, this helps not to overglamorize a character who is nothing more than an egotistical thug, but it's at odds with a script that seems to be expecting us to love him and his antics.

There's a minor section that picks up interest when the IRA whips up a local hate campaign against the `General' and his men, painting them as `anti-social' drug dealers purely because Cahill won't share his loot from a robbery with them, but its temporary resolution is so vaguely shot - something to do with Cahill donning a balaclava and joining the protestors which we're expected to find loveably cheeky - that it's just thrown away. Things are more successful in the last third as the pressure mounts and his army falls apart, but by then it's too late to really care. Adrian Dunbar, Maria Doyle Kennedy and the gorgeous Angeline Ball do good work in adoring supporting roles, but Jon Voight's hammy Garda beat cop seems to be there more for American sales than moral balance, overcompensating for Gleeson's comatose non-involvement in what feels like a total misfire. Come back Zardoz, all is forgiven.

Gleeson plays an intresting character very well, reminding me of Rod Stiger. Visually great, editing as smooth as Gleeson's cheeks, based on a true story and told by a genius, you can't go wrong.