Kill the Irishman (2011)

During the bicentennial summer of 1976, there were 36 bombings in Cleveland, Ohio. Three dozen acts of domestic terrorism, all with a singular purpose: Kill the Irishman. Easier said than done in this interesting but too familiar organized crime saga based on a true story.

The titular descendant of the Emerald Isle, fiercely proud of his heritage despite never having set foot in Ireland, is a lifelong Cleveland resident with an appropriate surname, Danny Greene (Ray Stevenson). His story begins in 1960 when, as a hardworking and outspoken longshoreman, he stood up to the corrupt union boss (Bob Gunton in what seems like a brief reprise of his role as the warden in The Shawshank Redemption) over adverse working conditions. Of course, Danny has some backup thanks to his new friend and partner in larceny, Cleveland Mafia underboss John Nardi (Vincent D’Onofrio), but Danny’s also unafraid to let his own two fists do the talking. When they do, they speak volumes.

Danny is soon leading the longshoreman’s union in Cleveland and, like all union leaders before and after him, he lives high on the hog while ripping off union funds, employing thugs and thug tactics, and palling around with Nardi and his underworld connections. His corruption draws the attention of the press and the police, especially a childhood acquaintance who’s now a police detective (Val Kilmer).

After his arrest, Danny arranges a deal. He has to give up membership in the union and his fancy house (losing his wife and family in the process), but he still gets to work with and for the local Mafia in exchange for being an informant for the cops. And after a deal with a Mob-connected Jewish restaurateur (Christopher Walken) goes awry, the Mafia are determined to kill this fiercely independent Irishman who has the brass balls to stand up to them. But damn, the guy has more lives than a bag of cats.

Kill the Irishman holds the viewer’s interest because it’s based on a true story, and to emphasize that, director and co-writer Jonathan Hensleigh inserts old television news footage of Danny Greene’s arrest and trial coverage, as well as the wave of bombings that made national headlines and turned Cleveland into the punchline of many a joke. (It’s interesting to see current ABC investigative newsman Brian Ross covering the story 35 years ago as a young, local reporter.) The old news footage gives a healthy dose of authenticity to a movie that is often too dramatized for its own good.

Over-dramatized in fact, to the point of nausea in places. The movie opens in mid-story, with Danny narrowly escaping a car explosion, standing in the street by the flaming wreckage, and shouting to the world, “Is that all you got? It’s gonna take more than a few firecrackers to kill Danny Greene!”

If this opening display of stereotypical machismo doesn’t clue you in that this screenplay’s more than a little labored (which may be appropriate for a film about unions), you’ll soon catch on that nearly every significant moment in the movie is telegraphed. You know when every explosion happens right before it happens, and you can see everything coming from a mile away.

The filmmakers have seen all the Scorsese movies, Sopranos episodes, and all the other Mob movies, and they’ve lifted the recognizable riffs and rhythms of what has become typical mobster scenarios. The problem is that we, the audience, have seen all those movies and shows, too, so despite a true storyline that should be more interesting given the real-life results, the writers and director aren’t giving us anything that feels new. To their credit, however, they do deliver a jaw-dropping house explosion midway through the flick.

As for the colorful assemblage of actors on display, Ray Stevenson, who co-starred as soldier Titus Pullo in HBO’s marvelous series Rome, is a terrific actor. With his beefy physique and Gaelic background, he’s perfect for this leading role–which may explain some strange hesitancies among the main supporting cast. Vincent D’Onofrio is usually interesting to watch, but he doesn’t look or sound much like a supposed kingpin of the Cleveland Mafia. (And would it have killed him to shave or wear a necktie?) Christopher Walken sleepwalks through his scenes, almost like he’s doing an impression of Kevin Pollak’s impression of Christopher Walken. Val Kilmer coasts through the movie, looking fat and tired.

The two women in Danny Greene’s life are ultimately insignificant to the story, as are the forgettable actresses who play them. The only significant female here is Danny’s feisty Irish neighbor, played by the great Dublin-born actress Fionnula Flanagan. But despite her presence for the obligatory “love of Ireland” bonding scene with WAY too much tin whistle on the soundtrack, she’s also dispatched from the story without explanation.

And for the Mafia guys, the casting director just picked and chose from the usual band of mobster actors: GoodFellas veterans Tony Darrow, Paul Sorvino, and Mike Starr; Sopranos regular Steven Schirripa (who gets one really good dramatic scene); British footballer and film thug Vinnie Jones; Tony Lo Bianco, wearing a very handsome yet very obvious hairpiece; and Robert Davi as the most conspicuous hitman ever.

Kill the Irishman walks a fine line right down the middle of the road. On the one side, an intriguing true story, a great lead actor, a familiar-looking cast; but on the other, cheap stunts aided by budget-cutting photography and editing, clichéd scriptwriting, and directing that wants to be Scorsese but has none of his brilliance or finesse. One thing’s for certain: Watching this movie will give you more than enough Irish folk music to last until next St. Patrick’s Day.