It’s an old story—a man mistakes his work for his life and ends up doomed, obsessively pursuing the one whom he feels has personally thrown doubt on his ability to accomplish his job. It reminds me of the classic Moby Dick, the tale of Captain Ahab and his quest for vengeance against the white whale that has previously robbed him of his leg. Spanning years and various oceans, Ahab pursues Moby Dick mindlessly, risking his own life and those of his loyal crew, believing that he must kill the whale before it seeks him out and destroys him. Starbuck, Ahab’s first mate tries to reason with him: “Shall we keep chasing this murderous fish till he swamps the last man? Shall we be dragged by him to the bottom of the sea? Shall we be towed by him to the infernal world? Oh, oh,—Impiety and blasphemy to hunt him more!” Spoiler alert if you don’t know how Moby Dick ends, but Ahab doesn’t heed Starbuck’s wisdom; and all is lost.

In The French Connection, things turn out a bit differently, though like Moby Dick the film’s story revolves around one man’s obsession with what he views as a personal vendetta. “Popeye” Jimmy Doyle, the narcotics cop, has a hunch that a couple he witnesses flaunting their money at a bar are involved in something illegal. He is correct, but the lack of direct evidence for both their plan to import a massive shipment of heroin and the complicity of their French associates leads him to recklessly shadow the respectable-looking French drug smuggler Alain Charnier and his cronies. Doyle risks his reputation and the well-being of himself and his partner “Cloudy” Buddy Russo in reckless stakeouts, shadowing, and “accidental” run-ins with their targets, eventually (and mistakenly) allowing Charnier to “make him” in a botched encounter at a subway station (Charnier’s cocky, sinister wave as the train departs and leaves Doyle behind is brilliant, but chilling!). Doyle becomes a target of the French criminals; and after they try to kill him, he resorts to commandeering a citizen’s car and tears up the streets of New York as he chases the fleeing would-be assassin, barely avoiding innocent pedestrians.

Charnier’s wave is one of the creepiest moments of this film–but it might be the part that reeled me in the most!

This chase scene has gone down into movie lore; and while it is wonderfully filmed and very suspenseful, what it really shows is a man no longer in control of himself, a man who is willing to sacrifice almost anything in his pursuit of his personal enemy. Doyle shows no compassion for the mother who is hit by the sniper’s bullet that is meant for him, nor does he attempt to shelter her baby who screams in his/her carriage during the shootout. His main concern is retribution for the attempt on his life—and finding Charnier, of course. When he finally accosts the sniper on a stairway, Doyle again exhibits no thoughts other than revenge. When the fleeing man refuses to halt, Doyle shoots him in the back and kills him, which eliminates any chance of the man leading him to Charnier. Doyle never enters the train in which the sniper has left a trail of victims, several of whom had courageously attempted to stand up to him. They are not in Doyle’s thoughts. All he sees is himself and his nemesis.

In the film’s climactic scene (spoiler alert!), once more Doyle seeks out Charnier regardless of all the chaos and bloodshed around him. Convinced the Frenchman is attempting to escape through an abandoned warehouse at the scene, Doyle proceeds on his own through the ruin. Joined by his partner Russo, Doyle stalks down the middle of a long room without cover, while Russo more wisely finds shelter in various niches. Out of the corner of his eye, Doyle sees Charnier through a doorway. However, it is unclear whether the form of the man is an actuality or a figment of Doyle’s imagination—his quest for revenge might be leading him to insanity. In further proof of this possibility, Doyle accidentally shoots and kills Mulderig, the FBI agent assigned to the case, mistaking him for Charnier. Horrified, Russo leans over the dead agent’s body, but Doyle, unfazed, hurries off through another doorway where a single gunshot is heard before the screen goes black.

Doyle later returns the wave.

At first, I thought that Doyle’s recklessness had led to his death in the film’s last seconds, but the film’s final updates on each character (given in subtitles) excludes this possibility and reveals that both Doyle and Charnier survive the film’s final scene. Doyle and Russo are transferred out of narcotics, and Charnier escapes his pursuers and supposedly returns to France. The question remains, though: who was shooting at whom with that final bullet? I have this idea that Doyle, having just murdered Mulderig and not wishing to appear insane, fires his weapon at nothing in an attempt to convince Russo that he really has seen Charnier in the warehouse; but that is mere speculation on my part. There is a sequel to the film, French Connection II (1975), so maybe I’ll have to check that out and see if it can answer some of my questions…

For Me Then…

Despite the mystery of the film’s ending, what we can take away from it is the danger of obsession and revenge—even in a situation in which the one seeking retribution is on the side of right and is pursuing those who have committed evil. Doyle unwisely allows his duty to control his life, and his neglect of self-care and his refusal to listen to the reason of his peers lead him to the brink of madness. He is unable to see the humanity that is at stake in his operation. The kids who die in the car accident, the mother murdered by the sniper, the train operator dead of a heart attack from fright—to Doyle these are all necessary casualties of his job. But is Doyle so different then from the drug smugglers who grow rich off the destroyed lives and premature deaths of those who cannot resist the temptation to get high? It’s like comparing Captain Ahab and Moby Dick–which one is really the most vindictive? I would tend to say Ahab.