Boondock Saints

If movies were on tracks, this one would be a colossal train wreck. I had heard of Boondock Saints from a friend. I knew it was about two  fraternal twins roaming the streets of Boston to rid the town of criminals while getting heat from a corrupt fed , a "Prince of Thieves" story line. But, what I got was criminal in and of itself.
The two main characters, Conner and Murphy MacManus (Sean Patrick Flannery and Norman Reedus, respectively), become vigilantes after killing two Russian mobsters in (almost comic) self-defense, at a pub, ironically the day after attending mass, as the mobsters announce they intend to take over the land on which the pub stood. Because of this cliche, at first, I thought it was a dark comedy as the brothers bumble around and end up killing the Russians in self-defense.

FBI agent Paul Smecker (Willem Defoe) is assigned to the case as the media hails the brothers as neighborhood heroes in stereotypical fashion. But the modest duo turn themselves in to the police in modesty that all vigilantes have, right? Yeah, right. At the police station, Smecker interviews them but refuses to charge them and, instead, lets them spend the night, offering up the precinct as shelter from the media storm raging outside. That night, by some sort of divinity, they hear a "calling" urging them to hunt the wicked.

And so, they begin their mission from God. Conner learns that there is a secret meeting of Russian mob-bosses going down at a hotel. Arming themselves with weapons and rope from a local IRA gun dealer, the brothers haphazardly take care of nine more mobsters, while their friend and errand boy for the Italian mafia,  Rocco, goes on a hit. Soon, Rocco learns that he has been betrayed, walking in to kill nine men with only a six-shooter. And then, it hits the fan.

Somehow, the film seems to have lost the point of the story - along with a moral compass - and transforms two Catholic boys into badass killing machines. Simply put, it's violence upon violence, which is not what makes an action film good. Well-thought-out heroes are not hell raisers with guns, but are deeply emotional human beings struggling to do the right thing.

To this point, I'll offer up my own work of fiction, The Crave. In my novella, Mike Craven is a young man who witnessed his parents and sister die by the hands of mob-boss Flintlock Flanagan, and seeks revenge - but I don't emphasize this. Instead, I depict Mike muddling through the stages of life as a broken man wanting to be healed, and to rid himself of the despicable feeling of loosing loved ones and wanting revenge for it. That's it. This is what makes readers want to read it. Hardly any violence until the end of my book, The Crave entices people by highlighting the human condition of wanting a sense of belonging.

Per film critic Robert Kohler, "{Boondock Saints} is more interested in finding fresh ways to stage execution scenes than in finding meaning behind the human urge for self-appointed righting of wrongs, pic is stuffed with effects that have no lasting impact."