Imagine Judd Nelson outpacing Al Pacino from The Devil’s Advocate on the insanovolume meter, belting out aphorisms about prison rape. Then hitting an underling in the face with a giant salami. A large percentage of the general population will find no mirth in such a scenario, but for folks who got a kick out of the 1999 dud-turned-underground-phenom The Boondock Saints it is just the blend of absurdism and violence that inspires them to get tattooed and recite Latin prayers as though they were metal lyrics.
The Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day is the greatest "thank you" that maligned filmmaker Troy Duffy could ever give to his fans. It is an extended dance remix of the first one – with a new actor here, a different weapon there – but, fundamentally, additional pulls from the same tap that made The Boondock Saints so beloved to certain folks.
We open in Ireland (we know because of the green, the ridiculous beards, and, later, the boiling potatoes) where the vigilante MacManus brothers are hanging out with their old man, letting their skin moisturize in the emerald dew. Word comes that a priest was killed back in Boston in Murphy and Connor’s style. It is a lure to bring the brothers back. And woe be to perpetrators, because it worked. (Cue the insane guitars. And, if you have a sense of humor and don’t take everything so g.d. seriously, the laughter.)
The Brothers are back, bringing Clifton Collins Jr. along as their Mexican sidekick, and soon the slo-motion, techno-scored killings begin. Along with drinking, cursing and warped papal piety. Julie Benz plays the Willem Dafoe role this time, recreating crime scenes in the You Are There style. This time she wears a cowboy hat. Why not?
If you’ve ever needed further proof that money talks, it is here with Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day. Despite an entire feature film documenting his enormous douchery, enough financiers recognized that it good to be in the Troy Duffy business. In a nutshell: frat boys like to feel smart, too, and have found an “indie” filmmaker to champion. The joke, however, is that Duffy’s films are actually made with enough knowing winks to be genuine works of cinema.
The Boondock Saints: All Saints Day has more intelligence than many are giving it credit for, but I don’t want to get too carried away. Not all the jokes work, trying to relate to the characters in any realistic way is preposterous and the big ending shoot-out is interminable.
Watching Boondock Saints II is (for me) a lot like drinking whiskey. Fun to do once in a blue moon, but not really a good idea. Whereas I simply can not turn off my brain and enjoy a Rob Schneider film, I find enough to keep me in a satiated stupor here. How's that for a glowing review?
