Like Donnie Darko, Boondock Saints seems to receive affection, adoration, even passion far in excess of any value in the movie itself. I’d heard about Boondock Saints from many sources, compelling me to not only put in my Netflix list, but move it up near the top. It’s based on a graphic novel, and there have been some pretty good movies come out of that genre. But this movie kind of hints at why that shouldn’t work.
Many parts of the movie are fun to watch. William Dafoe turns in another “Walken -1″ performance as a gay FBI agent who channels at crime scenes. He is oddly disconnected from the FBI, instead running a group of local policemen, one of whom also tries to channel but with far less success. He’s quirky. Possibly homophobic. Then he gets quirkier, dresses in drag, and tries to exude tenderness.
The McManus brothers are two good-looking Irish kids who work in a meat-packing plant, yet speak about ten languages. This is never explained. At some point, with little motivation except some apparently private religion, they go all Travis Bickle on bad guys, except with much more smoothness, coolness, and moral clarity.
Then there’s this guy, who is supposed to be the baddest assassin ever. The beast. Except that he’s also played as a cartoonish yokel. With long beard, six guns, long-coat and hat.
The only character who isn’t some flat cartoon is poor ‘Funny Man’ Rocco. He’s a stupid guy, but at least he suffers and changes through the movie.
The story-telling style would be interesting if you’re in film school, but probably only in a basic course. The story advances to a point, stops, then skips to the consequences. William Dafoe does his channeling explanation of the scene, then we go back and see how it really happened. It’s just arty enough to keep the Donnie Darko crowd happy.
In the end, I don’t know what people really like about this movie. The coolness is destroyed by the beast character, the moral undercurrents were better explored in any of a dozen revenge movies. The action is passable, and motivation is hokey. I’d offer a theory, but I really don’t get it.

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