The Boondock Saints (1999)

In “The Boondock Saints,” two devout Christian brothers (Norman Reedus and Sean Patrick Flanery) believe themselves ordained by God to kill Boston gangsters, pervs and riff-raff. Their guide is a Z-grade ex-gangster stooge (David Della Rocco) who bears an unmistakable resemblance to Jesus. To further clarify, a dead ringer God appears as six-gun-strapped assassin (Billy Connolly). Director/writer Troy Duffy leaves no cross unturned in making his brothers into holy-roller Reservoir Dogs, to borrow from Tarantino. And Duffy does borrow, from Q.T., Scorsese and Woo in the most clichéd ways. Slow-mo jump shooting, anyone?

Vigilantism is an entire cathartic genre onto itself. Everyone has wanted to play Dirty Harry or Batman. It’s human nature. But Duffy’s celebratory right-wing beat off to guns and God is painful. His virulent hatred of gays and women is worse. Willem Dafoe – gagging from scenery chewing -- plays a self-loathing gay detective who prances, preens, cross dresses, and ridicules every homosexual who meets his path or bed. Every woman is a brick-faced lesbian, addict or whore. One woman has “Jesus” stick a gun in her face. Look, I love some mean films where mean people do mean stuff. "Romper Stomper" is one. But the sadism is framed. Not here. This is God's "work."

I’d give this cult hit film an “F,” but Duffy has one major card: The brothers. Reedus and Flanery brim with spark, laughter, anger and utter lifelong devotion; I rechecked the DVD box to see if the actors were brothers. They’re not. Ace actors. Bullocks film. Some part of me hoped it was all a satire of male bravado. But that takes wit. There's no wit here. D-