#27: The Boondock Saints: Pulp Fiction and Goodfellas Meet Irish Guys and Stupidity

A bartender named Troy Duffy once saw a drug dealer take money from a corpse. His response? To write a movie called The Boondock Saints. This film came out in 1999 and was in theaters for about five days. It then was released on DVD, where, over the course of the next few years, it found itself in the prized film collection of many bros throughout the United States. These bros spread the word, one set of bench press at a time, and soon enough, The Boondock Saints had become a cultural phenomenon. 

The Boondock Saints, about to kill some bad guys. 

The Boondock Saints, about to kill some bad guys. 

In this episode of General Snobbery, Matt and Sean take a look back at this movie, a movie that was beloved by many dudes at their all-boys Catholic High School, including, much to their regret, themselves. Yes, Matt and Sean, those endeavoring on the path of the #TrueSnob, once loved The Boondock Saints. They loved it so much, in fact, that upon this 2016 viewing of a film that should never be watched again by anyone, they could recall what was to come, scene by scene, line by line. 

Nevertheless, as wisdom comes with age and experience, so transformations in one’s viewing of a film occur. With great thanks to the Lord Almighty, Matt and Sean discovered that this film is, in fact, incredibly bad. At times, it’s hilariously bad. The most ridiculous part about it is that it clearly thinks it’s awesome. It wants you, the viewer, to believe that it’s saying something profound about existence, making a big moral stand on evil and corruption in the contemporary world. What it’s really about is two flat Irish characters deciding to kill bad guys. 

If it weren’t for Willem Defoe… well, actually, even he couldn’t save this godawful film. Nevertheless, due to its total badness, The Boondock Saints provided one of the most laugh-filled snobs yet, one of those sacred snobs where Sean and Matt sat across from one another, in the same room, cultivating the limitless snobbery in a singular space. We hope you enjoy, listener, as they parse through their past, work through the guilt of once having liked this movie, and enter a place of calm and peace that snobbery alone may yield. 

And shepherds we shall be, for thee my Lord, for thee, against the existence of this atrocious, irredeemable movie.