A devil's brew of action and moralising
The Devil's Own
Let me admit, I'm a sucker for films set against the backdrop of
the conflict in Ireland. Will they get the accent right? Will I
recognise where it was shot? And, most importantly, how will
Irish republicanism be portrayed?
Typically, I'm disappointed, of course. Despite the (seemingly)
ever increasing number of films coming out of Hollywood with the
Irish conflict at their core, whether present or historical,
there are few, if any, that one could honestly give a favourable
opinion of. Yet, this has never stopped me and others from
indulging a strange and continuing fascination with films of this
genre. Cinema is a strong medium after all - many more people
watch films than will ever hear a speech by Gerry Adams.
In this latest release, we have big Hollywood bucks, a renowned
director of political thrillers in Alan J. Pakula, and two top
stars in Brad Pitt and Harrison Ford. To run through the story
line quickly is not difficult. Belfast lad Brad Pitt's father is
shot dead in front of him and this leads him to join the IRA.
After a gripping shoot-out in Belfast, he escapes to New York
where, stretching credibility, he moves in with a cop (Harrison
Ford), while organising a deal to purchase guided missiles.
A seres of self-contained and slick action scenes, interspersed
with more contemplative pieces which attempt to explore the inner
motivations and emotions of a Volunteer and the alien environment
he finds himself in, builds up the atmosphere well. This is
helped by some fine acting by Harrison Ford, who plays the highly
moralistic and upstanding character that we have come to expect,
but rather spoilt by the unchallenging female roles common to
action films.
However, as the story beings to unfold, the film quickly goes
downhill. By the time the credits roll, we are left with empty,
or at least confused, moralising about violence and an ending
that is so full of clichéd metaphors that it left many of the
audience audibly chuckling to themselves. Still, we're not
talking stereotypes of Irish psychopaths as in Patriot Games, or
crude and ill-informed depictions of Irish republicanism. What we
are left with is political struggle reduced to the personal, with
simplistic and overplayed moralising about guilt, loyalty,
honesty and commitment. This is Hollywood after all, but The
Devil's Own is not the worst.
By Mary Connolly
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