In
the spring of 1997, a beer slinger/bouncer named Troy Duffy hit the
aspirant-filmmaker lotto when he sold his gritty screenplay The Boondock Saints
for $300,000 to Miramax’s Harvey Weinstein, who promptly attached Duffy
to direct, agreed to let his band do the soundtrack and, as a goodwill
bonus, even offered to buy and throw in co-ownership of the Melrose
Avenue bar where Duffy worked. If Schwab’s was the old symbol of
Tinseltown discovery, this was a radical new overhaul for the
post-Tarantino age of underclass, videostore-fed auteurism.
Cut
to a couple years later. After enduring months of Duffy’s boorish,
bizarre behavior, and all manner of contretemps over casting and
budget, Miramax put the film — about two avenging angel Irish brothers
and the Latin they intone before blasting various criminal-types in the
head — into turnaround, and dumped it back into the marketplace,
mortally wounded in reputation. It would eventually get made on a
relative shoestring budget, suffer an ignominious, deservedly bashed
New York/Los Angeles theatrical release and find on video a small,
drunken audience addicted to a surfeit of late ’90s, indie-style
posturing. All of which brings us to this two-disc DVD release of The Boondock Saints, ostensibly prelude to a not-nearly-long-enough-awaited (direct-to-video?) sequel.
I’m sorry, but with regard to the film itself, this review is completely wrong. I have shown this movie to many people, all of different walks of life and tastes, and all of them loved “Boondock Saints”. This review is written with the prejudice of a soccer mom who doesn’t want her children watching “that smut”. The soundtrack is wonderful, the acting beautiful, and the gritty feel only serves to enhance the portrayal of the characters and their neighborhood.