Gene Hackman, THE FRENCH CONNECTION and how it happened (Part I)

In the late 1970's, Gene Hackman was complaining that people on the street were still calling him by his colorful character's name, "Popeye" (as in Doyle from THE FRENCH CONNECTION). Gene couldn't understand it. Afterall, he had had been in bigger box-office hits (THE POSEIDEN ADVENTURE, SUPERMAN I and II) since the 1971 Oscar-winning triumph and starred in equal or better artistic successes (THE CONVERSATION, SCARECROW, BITE THE BULLET), but for some reason the brutal narc character he played in TFC was sticking to him like no other role. It's also true that Popeye Doyle's the only character, except for Lex Luthor, that Hackman played twice, but FRENCH CONNECTION II, although critically lauded, was not the commercial or award winning success of the original; so fans yelling at him on the street were clearly harkening back to the 1971 chase-action thriller.

How Hackman came to play Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle and what it did for his career is an interesting case study in how Hollywood stars are pushed up the echelon. You could argue there are two careers of Gene Hackman; one before and one after THE FRENCH CONNECTION. The Hackman before was a dependable second-tier character actor, who had modest success and two significant achievements: the first being his Academy Award Supporting Actor nomination for playing Buck Barrow in BONNIE AND CLYDE (1967) and three years later getting a second nod for I NEVER SANG FOR MY FATHER, a role that was really the lead performance, but Hackman had to accept second billing to the better known and venerable Melvyn Douglas. He had also played supporting roles in films starring Gregory Peck, Jim Brown, Kris Kristofferson and Robert Redford. Had Hackman's career continued apace, he would have competed for supporting roles through the 1970's with the likes of Jack Warden, Charles Durning and Dana Elcar. THE FRENCH CONNECTION changed that destiny.

In 1969, the producer of BULLITT, Philip D'Antoni optioned the rights to the book, "The French Connection," by Robin Moore. It was real-life police procedural about a case in 1962 that Moore's book touted as "the world's most crucial narcotics investigation." The heroes of the book were Eddie "Popeye" Egan and Sonny "Cloudy" Grosso, two rough-hewn, hard-charging New York narcotics detectives who were still working the streets. When D'Antoni and director, William Friedkin, got the green-light from 20th Century Fox to proceed with the production, they were all set to hire their ideal actor to play Popeye: Jackie Gleason. It was a no-brainer. All Gleason had to do was roll out of bed and show up on time, he looked and sounded that much like Eddie Egan. But something strange happened, Richard Zanuck, the production head at Fox said no Jackie Gleason, no way. Gleason had caused trouble on a previous film (GIGOT) he had made at the studio, so Zanuck told D'Antoni and Friedkin to find someone else. The producer and director had less than a month to find a lead actor for their movie, and they had no idea who would make a suitable replacement for Gleason. They blathered names like Paul Newman (too expensive), Robert Mitchum (too drunk), Steve McQueen (already played a cop), Peter Boyle (possibly), and finally, on a whim, newspaper columnist Jimmy Breslin. And which of these fine gentlemen got the call? The ersatz thespian Jimmy Breslin. In fact, Breslin is the only actor to rehearse as Popeye Doyle (with the already cast actors Roy Scheider and Alan Weeks). But Breslin in the end was not an actor and couldn't cut the mustard.

Enter Sue Mengers, a high powered Hollywood agent, who handled many stars including second-banana king, Gene Hackman. Here was a role, Mengers thought, that might put Gene over the top. The lead in a not quite A-list film, but produced by a major studio was just the trick she thought. Hackman's salary at the time was $20,000, well within the $1.5 million budget; and the rest, as they say, is history, right? Wrong.

Friedkin hated the idea of casting Hackman, who looked more like astronaut Buzz Aldrin than the fiery red-headed Irish cop madman that was Eddie Egan. At an introductory luncheon meeting with actor, director and producer at the Oak Room at New York's Plaza Hotel, Hackman came off as aloof, introspective, and, worst of all, dull. If Friedkin had had final say, Hackman would have been shown the door. But he didn't have final say, D'Antoni did, and with Fox's approval, Hackman was cast in the part that would change his career.

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