The Devil's Own

Synopsis: A thriller about an IRA gunman who draws an American family into the crossfire of terrorism. Frankie McGuire is one of the IRA's deadliest assassins. But when he is sent to the U.S. to buy weapons, Frankie is housed with the family of Tom O'Meara, a New York cop who knows nothing about Frankie's real identity. Their surprising friendship, and Tom's growing suspicions, force Frankie to choose between the promise of peace or a lifetime of murder.
Genre: Action, Crime, Drama
Director(s): Alan J. Pakula
Production: Sony Pictures Home Entertainment
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
6.1
Metacritic:
53
Rotten Tomatoes:
34%
R
Year:
1997
111 min
1,284 Views


- How was your day?

- It was a bit cold.

- How did Frankie do?

- Frankie was tremendous.

Are you hungry?

Are you sure? Good.

I won't give you too much.

Bless us, Lord, for these thy gifts

which we are about to receive...

No!

A gunman broke into a house

in a remote coastal area...

and shot to death a man believed

to be a Republican sympathizer.

It is the latest of many killings

since the peace talks broke down.

Here's your target. Frankie Maguire.

He's responsible for the deaths

of 11 regular Army lads...

7 RUC officers and uncounted numbers

of loyalist paras.

He's never seen a jail cell.

I'd like to change that.

This is it, lads.

Mind how you go.

Stand by.

Move it!

- Seanie?

- I'm fine. Half the Army's here.

Bloody English!

Keep your heads down.

Seanie!

I'm f***ed, Frank.

- Frankie, let's get out of here.

- Go on.

- We have to go now.

- Go!

Desmond.

Where's Frankie Maguire?

Up your f***ing arse.

In a routine security operation,

soldiers looking for an IRA gunman...

found themselves

in an unexpected firefight.

The IRA denounced the attack as

an unlawful and murderous operation.

The Army put full rrsponsibility

on the IRA.

Both sides said

they're still searching for peace.

But the violence casts further

doubts on future peace initiatives.

Frankie?

It's Martin.

- For f***'s sake, Frankie.

- You had me shaking there.

How are you doing?

Grand.

- Are you hungry?

- Cheers.

A present from the lads.

They send their best.

Good to see you.

- You're looking well.

- F*** you, you c*nt.

There was a big turnout for

Dessie's funeral, which was good.

The cabinet was talking peace.

The SAS was waiting to take us out.

A setup.

- One of our own?

- We still don't know who.

The Northern Ireland Office

are spouting the same old shite.

They say the word peace,

but all they want is surrender.

Those f***ing things...!

If we could take them out.

They'd have to listen.

Right.

Stinger missiles. Then they'll talk

peace but it's gonna need you.

- You're a judge, are you?

- State Court.

I don't know too many judges

socially speaking.

We'd raise more money if people

understood what goes on over there.

They say if you're not confused,

you don't know what's going on.

That's it, isn't it?

It's fantastic.

- Home sweet home.

- We'll need the money quickly.

This is the construction company

where you work.

- You're a friend of the family.

- Are they connected?

Not in the least.

Tom O'Meara served under my father.

- In the Army?

- Police.

- A cop?

- Safest place in the city.

Daddy!

- Mr. O'Meara?

- Tom. Come on in. That's Annie.

How was your trip?

It's a long one, isn't it?

This is Morgie.

Morgan...

Say hi to Rory.

Sheila's in here.

- Sheila, Rory's here.

- Hi. I'm the mother.

- Nice to meet you.

- Bridget's on the phone.

The kids were supposed

to get this crap out of the hallway.

It's not much.

But it's dry and it's warm.

The bed's over here.

There's a bath and shower here.

You've got to jiggle this.

It runs.

- Did Fitz find you a job?

- I start in couple of days.

- The TV's here. What are you doing?

- On a building site.

- If there's anything you need...

- No, thanks for putting me up.

- Don't thank us. Thank Fitz.

- Dinner.

Besides, it's good to have somebody

around here that pees standing up.

For food and clothes,

for family too,

dear God, thank you...

I hope Rory likes his basement,

because I don't.

- I like the basement a lot.

- Pass the vegetables.

May I serve you?

Say when.

- That looks delicious. What is it?

- It's corned beef and cabbage.

- Don't you have that in Ireland?

- I've never had it.

- But you have this over there?

- We do have that.

In fact I was baptized in it.

- You were baptized in beer?

- That's a joke, honey.

- Have some more vegetables.

- Eat your dinner.

- Why do you always pick on me?

- Pass the mustard.

- What part of Ireland are you from?

- Cookstown. In the north.

On the shore of Lough Neagh.

- Do you have a girlfriend there?

- Come on, guys.

- That's a personal question.

- Leave the guy alone.

- Bridget has a boyfriend.

- Will you guys knock it off?

- Rory, welcome to America.

- Thanks.

Sector David. 2746. 13:30 meal.

Diaz, you're with me again.

Others, same as yesterday.

- Everybody's laughing at me.

- Why?

I'm supposed to drive the car.

You're supposed to sit next to me.

You've got the stripes.

The guy who rides with the sergeant

is the chauffeur.

- So, when am I gonna drive?

- I don't know. Tomorrow.

You've said that for three years!

- What's the time, goldilocks?

- That's my sister, you bastard.

- Frankie!

- It's Rory now, you c*nt.

- What's that?

- It's a high five. This is the USA.

- Look at the state of you.

- It's called style.

- Calvin Klein.

- Circus clown. Look at that one.

- Sorry! He did it.

- I didn't.

Look at us two Fenian bastards!

- Jesus Christ. Mind the car.

- That's yours?

She's a beauty, isn't she?

Bought and nearly paid for.

F***, I left the door open!

Frankie, are we gonna

go through with this?

I've got a foot pursuit.

Northbound. Male black.

Sarge! The car's blocked.

This is 35 Sergeant.

205 and Post.

Heading westbound toward the park.

Stop!

Towards the park.

Move! Damn!

Wait.

35 Sergeant.

They're going through the park.

That's a copy, 35 Sergeant.

You're gonna be sorry.

- Don't lose him.

- I'm on him.

God damn it! Come here.

Let me see your hands.

He's my collar.

Don't run away from the police.

You'll get yourself shot that way.

What have you got?

He robbed this.

I saw him put it in his pocket.

- You witnessed it?

- Yeah.

- How old are you, son?

- 15, sir.

Stand him up.

That's old enough to know

not to run away from the police.

What's your story?

I was too embarrassed to bring

the condoms to the cash register.

Turn him around.

Stand still.

Turn around. Give me your hand.

- I'll never do this again.

- Take a hike.

Why don't you cuff the rookie?

Here it is.

The Irish Republican Navy.

What do you think?

The pitch is off.

It'll give us a half a knot.

For f***'s sake!

It's pissing antifreeze.

- I knew it.

- Pull it.

We've got the prop work,

the caulking and the pipes,

the transducer, the bilge pump,

and timing the engine out.

A dozen 55-gallon drums of fuel.

Why don't we Fed-Ex the gear home?

The two of us crossing the Atlantic

with a hold full of missiles...

- It's crazy.

- Aye, it's f***ing mad.

When I get my pension,

you know what I'm gonna do?

- What are you gonna do?

- I'm gonna raise pot-bellied pigs.

I saw it on TV.

This guy was making a fortune.

Pigs?

Hi, girls.

- Last week it was a bakery.

- I could never get up that early.

We have a 1052

at 42 West 135th Street.

Female called to say

her husband's getting violent.

Police.

Police, open up.

Police, open the door.

- Hi, has Mummy called the police?

- Yes.

Mummy...

- You whore, come here!

- Put that gun down, man.

- No!

- Let's talk to her.

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David Aaron Cohen

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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