THE FRENCH CONNECTION II is a pretty good follow-up, really. Different enough from the original (we’re in France, the whole time, for one thing) it still has enough of the same grime (Marseille gives good grime), loud, incoherent sound, and surliness to feel like a continuation. Instead of a car chase, it has a foot chase at the end, and a loooong sequence where Gene Hackman’s ghastly Popeye Doyle gets forcibly shot up with skag by the baddies and then has to undergo a gruelling cold turkey in a French police cell. You almost feel sorry for him.
As Doyle’s opposite number, Bernard Fresson, that strange hybrid bull/bulldog/bullfrog is grumpy and leaden enough to make a good foil for the ugly American in his midst (if one man can be said to have a “midst” — and if any one man can, that man is surely Fresson).
Ah, Popeye Doyle. The movie gets a lot of mileage out of his complete refusal to comprehend that French people speak French, a language containing several different words from English. And that slang expressions travel less well than simple, clear speech.
Gene Hackman probably had a better time on this one than on the original, since his star was rising and Frankenheimer generally looked after his stars (while yelling, crimson-faced at everyone else). William Friedkin had told him, “I wouldn’t even hire you to play Gene Hackman,” and he meant it to sting. Still, Hackman is put through his paces, here, what with the sweltering foot chase through the streets and docks, the cold turkey, and having to explain things to French bartenders. The movie could be usefully augmented by an insert of a cardiogram in the bottom left corner monitoring how close Popeye/Gene is getting to explosive infarction from one moment to the next.