- Popeye Doyle (Gene Hackman) is a cop who follows his instincts. When he sees a criminal run, he gives chase. When he spots a table full of suspicious-looking characters at a bar, he tails them. With remarkable tenacity, he stays up all night to maintain vigils outside of bars, restaurants, and hotel rooms. Quitting time? No such thing. There's no difference between on and off the clock, and he's got the handcuffs in his bed to prove it. To ask why Doyle is so dedicated would be as meaningless as, to borrow his favorite phrase, "picking your toes in Poughkeepsie." That's just how he is, and you'd better hope he's not after you.
- The first man he goes after is a shady diner operator named Sal Boca (Tony Lo Bianco). Sal has all the trappings of a small-timer looking to make it big, and the eternal vigilance of Doyle and his partner, Detective Russo (Roy Scheider), reveals connections to some bigger fish. What puzzles the two policemen, however, is what any of this has to do with a mysterious Frenchman named Charnier (Fernando Rey). The audience knows that Charnier and his henchman, Nicoli (Marcel Bozzuffi), are behind an enigmatic scheme involving a car and a film actor named Devereaux (Frederic de Pasquale), but we too must patiently wait for the details to emerge. As is usually the case, the details are less memorable than the method by which they are presented.
- In my opinion, the crowning achievement of William Friedkin's The French Connection lies in how well it mixes quiet suspense with explosive action. There is no better illustration of this than with the film's two best scenes, both of which are nearly dialogue-free chase sequences. In the first, Doyle and his associates slyly track the charmingly conspicuous Charnier through the streets and subways of New York City. We're sure that the Frenchman has spotted Doyle, but both sides dutifully play their respective roles with feigned casualness until Charnier's final wave from the window of a departing train. The second chase scene also has Doyle pursue a Frenchman, but the tone couldn't possibly be more dissimilar. I'm referring of course to the film's famous car chase, in which Doyle commandeers a vehicle to follow a speeding train across the city. Here, the perfectly utilized fast-moving tracking shots and amazing stunt work (the car crashes three different times, by my count) deliver a constant stream of adrenaline. Few films handle either suspense or action well, so it is a particular treat to see both done so superbly in The French Connection. Add in the film's chaotic jazz score, grimy urban backgrounds, and ethically ambiguous police work, and you have a film that stands out as one of the most enjoyable examples of an entire decade's commitment to gritty realism.
- The film was based on the book, based on an actual case.
- The FBI agent, Muldering, was played by Bill Hickman, who was also the stunt driver for the car chase.
- The real police officers upon whom Doyle and Russo were based appeared as their superior officers in the film.
