A devil's brew of action and moralising

Let me admit, I'm a sucker for films set against the backdrop of the conflict in Ireland. Will they get the accent right? Will I recognise where it was shot? And, most importantly, how will Irish republicanism be portrayed?

Typically, I'm disappointed, of course. Despite the (seemingly) ever increasing number of films coming out of Hollywood with the Irish conflict at their core, whether present or historical, there are few, if any, that one could honestly give a favourable opinion of. Yet, this has never stopped me and others from indulging a strange and continuing fascination with films of this genre. Cinema is a strong medium after all - many more people watch films than will ever hear a speech by Gerry Adams.

In this latest release, we have big Hollywood bucks, a renowned director of political thrillers in Alan J. Pakula, and two top stars in Brad Pitt and Harrison Ford. To run through the story line quickly is not difficult. Belfast lad Brad Pitt's father is shot dead in front of him and this leads him to join the IRA. After a gripping shoot-out in Belfast, he escapes to New York where, stretching credibility, he moves in with a cop (Harrison Ford), while organising a deal to purchase guided missiles.

A seres of self-contained and slick action scenes, interspersed with more contemplative pieces which attempt to explore the inner motivations and emotions of a Volunteer and the alien environment he finds himself in, builds up the atmosphere well. This is helped by some fine acting by Harrison Ford, who plays the highly moralistic and upstanding character that we have come to expect, but rather spoilt by the unchallenging female roles common to action films.

However, as the story beings to unfold, the film quickly goes downhill. By the time the credits roll, we are left with empty, or at least confused, moralising about violence and an ending that is so full of clichéd metaphors that it left many of the audience audibly chuckling to themselves. Still, we're not talking stereotypes of Irish psychopaths as in Patriot Games, or crude and ill-informed depictions of Irish republicanism. What we are left with is political struggle reduced to the personal, with simplistic and overplayed moralising about guilt, loyalty, honesty and commitment. This is Hollywood after all, but The Devil's Own is not the worst.

By Mary Connolly