The Connection (La French)

Defying lucrative kickbacks from entrenched coercive vindictive drug trafficking thugs, dealing in heroin, preying on the unsuspecting, paving a joyless path to potential ruin, magistrate Pierre Michel (Jean Dujardin) has been promoted to take a stand, a stand he does take, a direct hands-on extremely dangerous crackdown, which audaciously challenges impregnable subterranean smirks.

To compensate the victims.

And mitigate the misery.

The Connection (La French) loses sight of its victims early on, however, focusing more intently on developing characters possessing similar indomitable wills, occupying antagonistic posts on the legalistic transversal.

Kingpin Gaëtan Zampa (Gilles Lellouche), for instance, steamrolls when challenged, demonstrating that he cares for his loyal subordinates, has compassion for his clients, and loves his adoring family.

As he reacts to the increasing threats to his well being, and the sociocultural affects of heroin abuse disappear from the film, sympathy begins to ambiguously creep, aromatic scatology, dismantled by a vengeful application of justice.

Of logic.

The scene that best captures The Connection's impact takes place early on, when Michel and Zampa assert their opposing viewpoints in isolation on the outskirts of Marseille.

You see them staring at one another in front of a voluminous sky that almost looks incredible.

I'm assuming there was a strict shooting schedule, otherwise they would have waited for a more impressive sky to intensify the background, thereby accentuating the inviolate universal both characters seek to dialectically represent, in tandem, the film bordering on the outstanding throughout, but never quite crossing its threshold.

The opening moments are somewhat underwhelming, scenes meant to accentuate wickedness failing to impress, cardboard where there could have been kerosene, dalliance where there should have been dread.

It improves as Michel's obsessive tendencies lead to self-destructing interpersonal conflicts.