Rarely have I seen a more celebrated movie that went over my head more than "The Friends of Eddie Coyle". It's just not a movie I can watch, and I think I've proved that to myself after this third viewing.The plot is impossible for me to follow. I get that it's about an ageing hood played by Robert Mitchum who wants to buy machine guns. Some of the people he knows are cops, and some are robbers. I couldn't tell any of them apart.There are maybe two robbery scenes in the movie, but mostly it's just tedious dialogue that makes no impression, like all of the characters and situations. Mitchum isn't really in it that much, but he spends a lot of time meeting guys in booths and at the end he goes to a hockey game.I have no idea what this movie was even about, or why anyone likes it.

From the Ironic Title to the Ironic Ending this Peter Yates Neo-Noir is an ultimate Character Study of Boston's Criminal Element in the Early to Mid Seventies. Robert Mitchum Plays Eddie, a Busted-Knuckle Grunt for the Mob that is a Stand-Up Guy. A whole lot of Good that has done and will do the Aging Criminal. He is looking at a Stretch and is Desperate to get Free.Of Course, in the Cinema World and the Real World for that matter, the Odds are Stacked against Him. That is the Film's Concern and through the use of Gritty, Realistic Dialog, and Unfettered, Chilling Locations both Interior and Exterior, it Weaves its Downbeat Tale with Good Characters and Character Actors.Peter Boyle, Richard Jordan, and Steven Keats are there for Mitchum to interact as the Story Spirals to its Inevitable Conclusion. In Minimalist Fashion and "Fly on the Wall" Realism, the Writer and Director make No Apologies for the Abandonment of Hollywood Gloss and Action.The Energy is in the Tension, the Nervous Waiting and over Thinking of every Detail, to Avoid certain Arrest or Death. Considered one of Robert Mitchum's Best Late Career Roles, He Masterfully Underplays with a Smoldering Sense of Angst and Acute Awareness that the Walls of His Chosen Life are Closing In.A Must-See for Mitchum and Neo-Noir Fans and Lovers of No-Frills Street Life Crime Thrillers.

"The Friends of Eddie Coyle" is an overlooked little gem of a crime film that's notable for what it doesn't do, and that's inundate us with action or melodrama. It's the very matter of fact, unsentimental quality of the film that makes it something interesting and worth savouring. In its story of cops and crooks, it shows how there can be dishonour among thieves, especially if you're an ageing sad sack like Robert Mitchums' Eddie Coyle, and will do just about anything to avoid doing any more time. This experience benefits from capable storytelling and straightforward, no frills filmmaking. The cast is peppered with top notch veterans of supporting and character parts, Dave Grusins' score is just right, and the use of various Boston locations is excellent.Mitchum is great in the title role, managing to infuse him with some degree of likability. You shouldn't really be rooting for this guy, but Mitchum just might have you doing so. Eddie is looking at a long prison sentence, so he decides to start ratting on his underworld associates to dedicated detective Dave Foley (a typically solid Richard Jordan). Chief among them is gun runner Jackie Brown, played by Steven Keats. There's also a trio of robbers running around holding up banks, and Eddie knows who they are.The film co-stars talents such as Peter Boyle as saloon owner Dillon, and Alex Rocco and Joe Santos as Jimmy Scalise and Artie Van, two of the robbers. Buffs will delight in recognizing other players such as Mitch Ryan ("Lethal Weapon"), Peter MacLean ("Squirm"), James Tolkan ("Back to the Future"), Matthew Cowles ('All My Children'), and Jack Kehoe ("Serpico"). Director Peter Yates, who'd shown an impressive versatility over the years, moving from things like "Bullitt" to "The Deep" to "The Dresser" to "Krull", does an admirable job in creating this world of scummy people. One can imagine that a film of this kind might bore viewers with shorter attention spans, but it's richly rewarding for those looking for a little nuance and not just escapism.Scripted by producer Paul Monash, based on the acclaimed novel by George V. Higgins.Eight out of 10.

This could be called one of the great neo-noirs of the 1970s. This will prove to be a strange opening sentence for this review as I will devote most of it to discussing why I don't think this film is really a "noir"at all. Noir- for all of its "grit"- is a romantic genre. The Noir anti-hero commits, in one way or another, a transgression in order to achieve transcendent love and passion, the hope of realizing the sublime. The noir protagonist is, then, truly an "anti-hero," or even "tragic hero." He has the potential for greatness, for sublimity, but this fate, by its very potential, is derailed due to some "tragic flaw" that is part and partial of the character's potential for greatness. Eddie Coyle, the ubiquitous main character and a small-time Boston gun-runner, has no potential for greatness. Judged simply by his actions, he's just a scum-bag in a world of scum-bags. That we come to both care for him and accept his fate with an almost cynical (in the classical Greek sense) acceptance is a major reason why this is such a great, and I think unique, work. It's greatness comes, if we want to get auteur-istic about it, not from the director or writer, but from the star, Robert Mitchum. Mitchum has long been amongst my favorite Hollywood performers, but I never knew he was capable of a performance like this. Few ever have been. Without the "showiness" of most celebrated Hollywood actors- say late period Dustin Hoffman or Jamie Foxx- Mitchum invents Coyle. He invents him more than the writer. This is a (rare in film) example of the performer as "auteur". If almost any other actor had played Coyle- as written- I think he could have come off as such a worthless slime-ball that most would be tempted to ask "why am I watching a movie about this pathetic, boring loser?" But Mitchum instills in Coyle a capacity for observance- for something akin to, though not identical with, empathy. He is, as Mitchum embodies him, someone who has suffered for his courage (which should not, in this case, be equated with honor) enough that he sees the fear and suffering in others, and he knows how to use it. But ultimately, he just doesn't want himself to suffer that much again. In this way, Mitchum makes Coyle almost a tragic, though not "noir"-ish(!)- figure, and this film one of profound pessimism. Coyle is humanity. In daring to face reality, he learns its horrific nature, and will do anything to escape it. But once understood, the real is the only real. We are trapped. Another note, the film has a brilliant sense of place. It captures not only Boston, but low-life New England in general, perfectly. I lived in the New England states for much of my teens and twenties. For me it was, especially in those months known for "Fall foliage!", a landscape of death and decay, though some claim to find it beautiful. This film transported me from Cali back to that wintry slum. I both admire it and resent it for this.