'The General' deosn't live up to real-life legend

COURtESY SONY PICTURES In john Boorman's 'The General," Martin Cahill

Everyone breaks the rules occasionally. Criminals, on the other hand, make a living out of it, and generally, their stories go unheralded within the confines of mainstream culture. In The General, anarchy and civil disobedience are celebrated as glorious virtues, as director John Boorman attempts to explore and explain the inner workings of a modern crime legend.

Based on the true story of Martin Cahill, an Irish robber responsible for staging a series of elaborate heists in Dublin in the 1980s, The General traces a criminal's progression from a wild, unruly youth to a wild, unruly adult. Cahill is an infamous figure in Ireland, having earned a spot in the country's crime-legend lexicon, similar to the space in the American popular psyche occupied by Al Capone and John Dillinger. Played by Irish character actor Brendan Gleeson, Cahill is portrayed as an anti-establishment hero who refused to pay attention to the rules set by the government or the IRA.

Films about real-life legends have to do one of two things to be successful. They can either deconstruct the popular myth to show a real person underneath (as Martin Scorsese does in Raging Bull), or perpetuate the legend by buying into the concept of hero worship (as movies like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid have done). Boorman can't quite decide which route he wants to take and as a result, his film suffers.

The General begins with a cursory look at Cahill's childhood years. He gets caught stealing to feed his family, goes to a reformatory, goes to jail, and ends up with a healthy distrust of authority. Cahill robs and steals without getting caught, all the while collecting unemployment checks from the state. After getting picked up for a routine robbery, Cahill, just to piss off the authorities, decides to stage an elaborate multi-million dollar heist while his case is going to trial. For a time, he is untouchable; he even makes a point of going to the police station to gloat after each of his major robberies.

After a few more impossibly clever heists, Cahill becomes involved in the Irish political world, a decision that eventually leads to his death. The movie concludes with a slow motion shot of Cahill running through the streets as a child, joyfully giving the finger to the camera. Some of us, it seems, are just born anarchists.

Boorman (the man who, with his 1972 film Deliverance, contributed to the popular perception of West Virginians as toothless, banjo-picking inbreds) wrote and directed The General. The same slow-but-not-leisurely pace that Boorman used to build tension in Deliverance can be seen here, in the form of extremely well-shot, deliberately stark scenes and beautifully executed slow-motion sequences. Filmed in documentary style on black and white stock, The General achieves a minimalist feel that simultaneously conveys both hopelessness and beauty.

Gleeson is an exceptional actor; his performance is nuanced and entertaining, but Boorman's script does not have enough depth to give Cahill's character the appropriate context. Much screen time is devoted to establishing Cahill's disregard for authority, but his relationships with the supporting characters are barely fleshed out. Jon Voight gets a fair amount of attention as an inspector obsessed with catching Cahill, but his performance unfortunately never quite adds up to much because his character is so shallowly written.

Boorman pays lip service to Cahill's family and friends by sprinkling bits and pieces of emotionally loaded dialogue throughout the film. The placement and development of these scenes are so peripheral to the thrust of the film, however, that it's hard to become emotionally involved with these supporting characters. The
middle of the film drags along as Boorman shows us brief scene after brief scene, each meant to illuminate Cahill's murky relationships with his family and friends. Boorman takes a risk in attempting to cram so much significance into such a small space--when it works, it's beautifully economical; when it doesn't, it leaves the viewer disconnected and disinterested.

Despite these flaws, the film is highly entertaining at points. The robberies are cleverly executed and fun to watch, and the beautifully stark cinematography perfectly captures the feel of gritty 1980s Dublin. There are moments of brilliance, but The General's pace drags in too many places for it to be truly gripping.

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