Un mestiere difficile

I had to do a double take looking at this one whilst deciding whether or not to see it at this year's Edinburgh Film Festival IMDb voters score it a measly 4.9/10 currently, and yet on the other hand, it's produced by John Boorman, photographed by Henri Decaë, starring Patrick McGoohan and Lee van Cleef, with a soundtrack by Brian Eno? Did all those guys really screw up? The answer is manifestly no, and we have yet another inexplicable IMDb rating, perhaps caused by people voting for a different movie called The Hard Way (there are several)? So the film is shot in the UK, in Ireland, and in Paris, and is just gorgeous. The locations are dingy, all green stains, brown stains, darkness. The script is quite generic, it's about a hit-man (John Connor - McGoohan) who wants to retire but has the "one last job" forced on him, no added value in the plot structure at all. What is really poignant though is that throughout the movie we get a running commentary on Connor's character from his wife in eerie soliloquies. He is a very terse man, who only speaks when absolutely necessary and appears to have no personal connections, except with guns, for which he is an absolute nut. His wife says that he "never knew who he was or what he wanted", which is one of the saddest things I've ever heard, and made me feel quite weepy. He seems to have believed in his family as an abstract concept though and sends them quite unsolicited cheques after each job. His daughters, we are told, are in America doing well, which strangely makes the film quite beautiful, an effect perhaps like a robin flitting through a mouldy cemetery.

You would think in a low budgeter that the action scenes would be quite bad, but in fact they are really visceral and abrupt, done perfectly each time. Van Cleef plays middle man McNeal with whom there has to be a showdown following the refusal to allow McGoohan to retire. He does well but generally appears in the film's weaker scenes. You get the feeling that whoever wrote the script for this one was looking to do something entirely different to Decaë and McGoohan; Tombleson and Grogan the two credited writers have no other writing credits to their names, no idea why Boorman picked the script. There's some claptrap talk about mercenary assaults in Africa which caught the public imagination of the era, and McNeal does implausible juggling acts with the amount of missions on his plate. The final showdown, whilst very beautiful also looks to play on an antagonism between the two men which the film quite simply hadn't established, and wasn't the point of the movie. These men were set up by the movie as soulless automata, Connor capable of rage, but only as a defensive measure, he's the ultimate introvert. Despite the fact that the scriptwriters and the other creative dynamos in the film weren't on the same wavelength, I think it causes only subtle elements of discord to arise and in fact the film feels quite the masterpiece on reflection.

You'll notice that I haven't spoken about director Michael Dryhurst. There must be a story here, because this is the only film he has credit for directing, having been either an assistant director or producer all his career. It seems he took over when original director Tombleson (whom I mentioned also wrote the script) was taken off the movie as the result of a personality clash with McGoohan. It's quite possible that this allowed Decaë and McGoohan to take up the reins, though that's pure speculation on my part.

Seeing Patrick McGoohan and Lee Van Cleef in the same film, is reason enough to seek out "The Hard Way". McGoohan plays an Irish hit-man, obsessed with guns, who unexpectedly wants to retire. Van Cleef urges him to do one last difficult job for him, threatening McGoohan's wife for leverage. Eventually McGoohan reneges on the hit and kills a couple of hit men who are sent after him, leading to a cat and mouse climax between Van Cleef and McGoohan. The finale takes place in a booby trapped mansion and the confrontation and ending are both exciting and satisfying. For fans of either McGoohan or Van Cleef, this is a must see film. - MERK

A brooding film in which one feels the angst of the retiring Irish hit-man (Patrick McGoohan) who foolishly agrees to do one last assassination. This quiet film is poignantly "narrated" by the gunman's estranged wife whose memories enter the story to provide a framework and background for the tragic figure and his family. Any "Prisoner" fan will see parallels between aspects of this plot and McGoohan's previous series: an agent who wants to give up his covert work but is not let off the hook so easily by his masters. The agent decides to leave anyway and is pursued relentlessly by his former bosses. In "The Hard Way" this pursuit takes us through rural Ireland to a dramatic showdown with Lee Van Cleef. An understated, interesting study, worth a look.

'Less is more.' A Tribute to The Hard Way and to Patrick McGoohan.

Since happening upon this film a few years ago – when I managed to win it at auction for just a few pounds - I have become so obsessed with it that I have made pilgrimages all over Ireland in order to pay homage to it, and to its leading actor, Patrick McGoohan. He is, sadly, no longer with us, along with many of the other fine actors who make up the supporting cast (Lee Van Cleef; Donal McCann; Peter Brayham; Joe Lynch). The re-release of the film on DVD, almost 30 years to the day of its original screening, is long overdue – but better late than never! It may have taken a very long time but the best things in life are always worth waiting for.

In writing this review, I have struggled long and hard to articulate my feelings into words. I hope that I do justice both to the film and to Patrick McGoohan. I believe that this appearance is arguably his finest, most understated and underrated acting role ever.

The plot ambles along; it is heavy and slow; there is hardly any dialogue, and very little action. Anyone looking for a fast moving 'gangster' movie peppered with gunfire (as the trailer included in the DVD's special features seems to suggest) will certainly be disappointed.

The use of speech is so sparse it is almost conspicuous by its absence. Most of the scenes are eerily quiet. However, this only serves to build up the tension. The use of body language to convey mood and meaning is very subtly done; especially in the bar room 'stand off' between the two main protagonists. The way in which John Connor (Patrick McGoohan) gently menaces his 'handler' McNeal (Lee Van Cleef), and resists the latter's attempts at persuasion with a quiet, stubborn resolve, is just breathtaking to watch. I can only applaud when the former leaves with quiet dignity, then slams the bar room door behind him to signify, and release, his clearly pent-up anger. That beats any 'shoot out' I've ever seen! In my opinion, Patrick McGoohan's portrayal of the Irish mercenary who wants to retire is extremely sympathetic. He shows a man who is not just a cold-blooded killer. John Connor is very human, and has many redeeming qualities, including that of moral courage – borne out in the parting words of Kathleen (Edna O'Brien), John Connor's estranged wife, in the final scene – "A waste of a man." I have to admit that, in spite of his past deeds, I have to weep for the man – I can't help it. Such is the power of the actor's presence and the skill with which he takes on the mantle of this complex character.

In this respect, great credit must also be given to the skillful direction of Michael Dryhurst. Having heard that the actor and the director were very like-minded, I can well believe it when I watch the results.

In addition, the stunning cinematography of Henri Decae enhances the production. Sweeping panoramic shots of the Irish countryside and the mountains contrast sharply with the claustrophobic and depressing settings of seedy hotels and dark, dingy city streets. The way the scenes are lit is also very creative and effective.

The accompanying soundtrack consists of just three pieces, all of them instrumental, and each is cleverly employed to illustrate the mood of their respective scenes. 'The Dear Irish Boy', an Irish air beautifully rendered by the solo violinist Tommy Potts, and 'Events in Dense Fog,' (from Brian Eno's 'Music for Films') which accompany John Connor's sad, reflective moments, and the forlorn speeches from his estranged wife, tug at the heartstrings and bring tears to the eyes. 'Patrolling Wire Borders,' also from Music for Films (not 'A Measured Room', as is stated on the film credits), is spine-tingling, stark and sinister and is well suited to the more grimly cynical scenes of violence and turmoil in the twilight world of the jaded hit man.

Very little is explained to us. There is so much we don't know; for instance, how did a man like John Connor become a mercenary? Why are his children in apparent exile in the States? And why did Kathleen, his estranged wife, then remain behind in Ireland? But somehow, this isn't all that important to know; in fact, it can only add to the appeal of the film. Not being spoon fed such details somehow piques the appetite – and that's partly why I chose not to reveal too much about the plot in this review.

To cut a long story short; less is definitely more in this case. Please take the time to watch this film; be patient; and make sure you read between the lines.

What's the deal with the ratings here? Hardly anyone voted below 4 and its got a 3.6??? This is a very well made low budget minimalist neo noir set in Ireland. McGoohan and Van Cleef are very effective in their roles as underworld hit men. Sparse dialouge and good cinematography. Direction is slow but assured and suits the tone of the story well. Has the production feel of those late seventies British thillers like "Mystery" that played over here in the sates. But this has a dark tragic tone that separates it from those TV shows. Who would have thought you'd see Lee Van Cleef in an Irish Film Noir. Definitely worth a look if you can find this ultra rare flick.