Lost classic: ‘The Friends of Eddie Coyle’

Here’s A..O. Scott of The New York Times on a forgotten classic among 1970s crime dramas: Peter Yates’ “The Friends of Eddie Coyle.”

Scott really gets the fat part of the bat on this one. I re-watched “Coyle” recently, in a sparkling new edition from The Criterion Collection, and was floored at how good it is. It’s a virtual master class. There isn’t a wasted frame. Peter Boyle, Alex Rocco,  even the usually forgettable Richard Jordan — everyone in it is spectacular, in a low-key way. The adaptation, by journeyman writer Paul Monash, captures George V. Higgins’ book perfectly. Even the Boston accents are good. Even Dave Grusin’s score works. (You know the one I mean. He seemed to write it for every thriller released in the ’70s. You’ll know it when you hear it.) The only place Scott and I disagree: Robert Mitchum’s Coyle is much more than a bystander. Weary and increasingly cornered, he’s the ghost whose spirit permeates every scene. He’s a dead man walking. And here, late in his career, Mitchum’s performance is a thing of battered beauty.