Good cop, bad cliche?

The Irish-American cop has been a mainstay of films and TV shows for decades. Are the hard-but-fair lawmen a reassuring figure in contemporary American society or an out-of-date throwback? MICK HEANEYinvestigates

IN THE opening episode of Blue Bloods, RTÉ's latest American television import, one scene in particular sets the scene for the show. In a homely dining room, a New York family sits around a table waiting to carve the Sunday roast. Presiding over the proceedings is the stoic presence of Frank (Tom Selleck), who just happens to be the commissioner of the city's police force, the NYPD. Among the clan members gathered are Frank's eldest son Danny (Donnie Wahlberg), a maverick detective; his youngest son Jamie (Will Estes), a Harvard law graduate turned rookie cop; his daughter Erin (Bridget Moynahan), a feisty assistant district attorney; and Frank's own father, Henry (Len Cariou), an irreverent former police chief.

Within minutes of grace being said, an argument breaks out between Frank’s three offspring about the robust interrogation methods used by Danny on a suspect. The elder son exits in a fury, Erin’s daughter leaves in tears, leaving Frank to restore equilibrium.

If the ethnicity of the fictional family at the centre of Blue Bloodswas not already obvious from their surname, Reagan, it is made clear in this setpiece, loaded with the tropes of Irish-American life: family, religion, fights and, above all, cops.

America may have been shattered by terrorist outrages, challenged by emerging economic superpowers and transformed by shifting demographic patterns, but the Irish-American cop remains a reassuring figure in the country’s popular imagination.

Blue Bloodsis only the latest in a string of screen dramas based around Irish-American lawmen. High-profile movies and TV shows such as The Departedand The Wirehave featured such central characters. But if the Irish-American police officer still seems an iconic presence in popular culture, does he reflect the reality of the contemporary United States? Or is he an anachronistic throwback?

“On one hand, the Irish cop is a cliche,” says American novelist Thomas Kelly, a screenwriter and producer on Blue Bloods. “But despite that, the reality is also all pervasive. The NYPD is still run by an Irish-American [Commissioner Raymond Kelly].

“In New York, many Irish Catholics will still jump at the chance to become a cop. That’s part of what we try to get on the show, this notion of the cop as a warrior class. Running around with a gun, it’s fun but it’s also heroic. Though the numbers [of Irish-American officers] have changed, the reality is still there.”

This is the classic image of the Irish cop, hard but fair, driven by a streetwise sense of justice and a tribal devotion to the job. “The NYPD motto is fascinating,” says Kelly. “It’s Fidelis ad Mortem, which translates as faithful unto death, which captures that sense of being the good guys, but also giving the average guy a break.” This ethos is not confined to New York, onscreen at least.

"The idea of the Irish-American policeman is powerful in US popular culture and in America's conception of their cops," says NUI Maynooth lecturer Dr Stephanie Rains, author of the 2007 study The Irish-American In Popular Culture, 1945-2000.

Despite being set (and filmed) in different eras and cities, Gene Hackman's portrayal of James "Popeye" Doyle in The French Connection, David Caruso's role as Detective John Kelly in NYPD Blue, Sean Connery's turn as Chicago patrolman Jim Malone in The Untouchablesand Dominic West's performance as Jimmy McNulty in The Wireall draw on the notion of the hard-but-fair Irish lawman.

This geographical spread is rooted in the Irish experience in America.

“A lot of police departments were founded at a time when Irish immigrants were coming into the cities and setting up political machines,” says Kelly. Organisations such as New York’s Tammany Hall often dispensed patronage in the form of police jobs, giving Irish immigrants an important foothold in a society in which they were otherwise marginalised.

“The Irish were initially drawn to the job for its financial security, but it soon became a cultural thing,” says Kelly. “And that reality drove the artistic representation.”

Initially, those representations were not flattering: one 19th century cartoon caustically commented on the rarity of American-born police officers in New York. Even with the arrival of film, Irish characters tended to be criminals (or priests) rather than policemen.

“The Irish-American cop became important as an image linked to reality after the second World War,” says Rains. “That tough reputation was very doubtful before the war, as seen in James Cagney’s gangster films. But after Irish-American heroism in the war, they were rewritten into history, there was a link made between the service of those soldiers, and by extension, of cops. That fighting Irish image became a good thing.”

The postwar image was neatly captured by Jules Dassin's 1948 film The Naked City, which featured Irish actor Barry Fitzgerald as Lt Dan Muldoon, a wily detective who solves a murder case with the help his eager sidekick, Jimmy Halloran.

Even as Irish-Americans became more affluent and assimilated, the urban Irish cop became an example to be admired, appealing to what Rains calls "a particular version of white working-class masculinity in the States". This tendency was highlighted by Tom Wolfe in his 1987 novel The Bonfire of the Vanities, in which one character, Detective Goldberg, apes Irish mores so much that he is nicknamed "the Jewish shamrock". This prevailing credo still permeates onscreen portrayals of urban police departments: in The Wire, set in Baltimore, police wakes are held to the soundtrack of the Pogues, regardless of ethnicity.

But in the more cynical atmosphere of post-Vietnam America, the Irish-American cop took on a more ambivalent light.

Starting with 1970s films such as The French Connectionand Dirty Harry– featuring Clint Eastwood's Irish-sounding anti-hero Harry Callahan – officers took a more elastic view of the law. Meanwhile, the Catholic faith and community solidarity which had once been signifiers of virtue in Irish cops were mined for darker effect.

In 1981's True Confessions,Robert Duvall played a jaded LA detective clashing with his misguided priest brother, played by Robert De Niro, while in 1990's State Of GraceSean Penn's undercover policeman is troubled by his old ties to the Irish-American criminal gang he is infiltrating.

By the time of Martin Scorsese's 2006 drama The Departed, the tensions between ethnic solidarity and vocational duty had reached breaking point, with its stellar cast of Boston cops (plus the occasional mobster) killing each other off.

“I THINK THE IRISH COP gives writers a lot to play with,” says Kelly. “You’ve got notions of loyalty and place and faith, it’s all rich material.”

Blue Bloodsexplores such themes, though in a more benign fashion than most recent films. In the wake of the 9/11 attacks, the Irish cop (and his blue-collar public service cousin, the firefighter) once more stands for heroic sacrifice as much as conflicted machismo.

The Reagans’ religious beliefs and family ties are ultimately presented as sources of solace and strength: the show, originally aired on CBS, recently received an award for best television series from advocacy group Catholics In Media Associates.

Even the family surname carries echoes of the folksy values of their presidential namesake. The series does not subvert the iconic image of the Irish cop, at least if the generic plotline of the first episode is anything to go by. But neither does it overegg things, avoiding the stereotypical excesses of, say, Gavin O'Connor's 2008 police thriller Pride and Glory.

“The flavour and the texture are still there,” says Kelly about the Irish-American backdrop to Blue Bloods. “You don’t need to make it the main course.”

With Blue Bloodscommissioned for a second series, the Irish cop will be part of the American cultural diet for some time yet.

CULTURE PODCAST

Mick Heaney, Hugh Linehan, Anna Carey and Shane Hegarty discuss Irish cops in movies and TV shows on this week’s podcast. Listen at irishtimes.com and subscribe on iTunes

Irish-America's finest

James "Popeye" Doyle in The French Connection

Based on real-life New York policeman Eddie Egan, Gene Hackman's hard-bitten detective in William Friedkin's 1971 movie has all the attributes of the classic Irish cop: fond of a drink, impatient with red tape, tough as old boots and relentless in his pursuit of the bad guys, as the movie's marathon chase sequence attests.

Jimmy McNulty in The Wire

In his brawling, drinking and non-conformity, Dominic West's detective harks back to an earlier ethos, long disappeared from the modern Baltimore police department he inhabits in HBO's epic crime drama.

But even as his flaws threaten his career and his marriage, McNulty has his own code, doggedly pursuing the city's drug gangs.

Staff Sergeant Dignam in The Departed

In a film replete with Irish cops of varying honesty, Mark Wahlberg's no-nonsense internal affairs officer stands out as a man of steely integrity, in his loyalty to his commander (Martin Sheen), his foul-mouthed guidance of his undercover charge (Leonardo DiCaprio) and, above all, his vengeful pursuit of Matt Damon's bent policeman.

Not a man to mess with.

AND ITS WORST

Jim Brannigan in Brannigan

Having passed up the lead role in Dirty Harry, John Wayne attempted to play catch-up with this 1975 film, in which the Duke plays, yep, a maverick Chicago detective pursuing a mobster in London. But the ageing Wayne never convinces in a role far removed from his classic western persona. See also McQ, which sees Wayne trying the same trick in Seattle.

Chief Mike Dorsett in The Untouchables

Sean Connery's unabashedly Scottish-accented portrayal of an Irish policeman in Brian De Palma's 1987 film was overshadowed by the performance of Richard Bradford as the corrupt top cop, complete with preposterous brogue that would make a leprechaun wince.

Dudley Smith in LA Confidential

In the 1997 film adaptation of James Ellroy's novel, James Cromwell imbues his character of a corrupt LAPD lieutenant with just the right levels of charm, duplicity and malevolence, only to let himself down with an accent straight out of Darby O'Gill, right down to calling everyone "boyo". Plus ,what self-respecting Irish cop is called Dudley?

Mick Heaney