Review of The Boondock Saints

There is plenty wrong with The Boondock Saints, including the film's general attitude toward pretty much everything. This is about as self-indulgent as film-making gets, and try as I might I just can't derive the same pleasure out of it all as those involved. That said, there are enough guilty humor moments (though an equal number of unsuccessful attempts) and fresh action sequences to ward off outright failure. This is no where near the brilliant film its outspoken, fake-Boston Red Sox-fan, can't wait for the next Transporter movie, blow-hard fanboys would lead you to believe. Nor is it the vile, trash-as-a-style, empty excercise in faux-machismo that the high-brow critics make it out to be. In the end Booddock Saints is a somewhat applaudable effort to spice up a genre that sorely needed to be revitalized, with as many misses as hits. This is a poor-- bankrupt? --man's Tarantino film, that ought never be mentioned in the same sentence as The Departed, but still an acceptable way to pass a couple of rainy afternoon hours.